Chapter 5 The Beast Behind the Glass

Morning sunlight spilled across the sleek marble floors, but the Blackthorne mansion felt no warmer for it. Selena stood at her window, staring at the endless stretch of forest. A gilded cage was still a cage, no matter how wide the view.

The staff had been polite, efficient—every “Mrs. Blackthorne” whispered like an iron chain around her throat. She hadn’t corrected them. What was the point? Damian’s signature sat beside hers on that velvet contract, and now her future was tied to a man who looked at her as if she were both puzzle and prey.

Sleep had come in fragments. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard the guttural growls that had echoed through the hall last night. She told herself it must’ve been her imagination, but her body knew better. Something had stalked these walls.

She wrapped her robe tighter and slipped out of her room . The mansion was too quiet—no footsteps, no voices, only the faint hum of hidden security systems. She padded barefoot down the hall, her fingers brushing the glass walls that revealed manicured courtyards beyond.

She should have turned back. But curiosity clawed at her ribs.

The east wing was different from the rest—darker, colder, its air weighted with secrets . Dust motes drifted in slanted beams of light, untouched by the cleaning staff. As she walked, she noticed deep grooves carved into the plaster . At first she thought they were cracks—until she leaned closer.

Claw marks.

Her breath stilled. The walls bore them in uneven streaks, gouged deep into the surface. As if something had raked against them in desperation.

Selena whispered to herself, “What could do this?”

Her pulse quickened. The contract, his aura, the rumors of curses—they all tangled together. She followed the trail, her bare feet silent on the floor, until she reached a door half-hidden at the end of the corridor. Thick, reinforced iron, out of place in a mansion of glass and light.

She hesitated. Last night’s growls seemed to echo against her ears, faint and distant. She pressed her palm lightly against the door. Cold.

Then—movement.

A muffled thud. A hiss of breath.

Her hand jerked back, but the curiosity had already rooted itself. She pushed the door open, slow, breath held.

The room beyond was dim, lit only by shafts of morning sun forced through a skylight. But the light wasn’t what caught her breath.

It was the glass.

A massive enclosure stood in the center, walls reinforced like a cage for something that shouldn’t exist. Inside, a man paced—his broad shoulders tense, his shirt torn down the middle, chest slick with sweat. His hair hung damp, wild around his face, and his eyes—God, his eyes—burned an unnatural, feral blue.

Damian Blackthorne.

Selena froze, her hand gripping the frame of the door as though it could anchor her.

He moved with restless violence, back and forth like a predator trapped, muscles flexing as though fighting against his own skin. Low snarls ripped from his throat, half-human, half-beast, each one vibrating through the glass.

She couldn’t look away.

Damian’s head snapped toward her, his glowing eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. He looked nothing like the polished Alpha in tailored suits. This was raw, dangerous, unrestrained.

“What are you doing here?” His voice tore from his throat, harsh, twisted by something inhuman.

Selena stumbled back a step. “I—I heard—”

“Get out!” His snarl cracked against the walls, making the glass tremble.

She shook her head, terror mixing with something she couldn’t name. “What’s happening to you?”

“You don’t understand.” His pacing turned frantic, fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t know what you’ve walked into.”

Selena’s throat tightened. She should leave. Every instinct screamed to run. But instead, the words spilled out before she could stop them. “Then tell me. Make me understand.”

Damian slammed his fist into the glass. The sound rattled her bones. “No. If you stay, you’ll regret it.”

She flinched, yet her feet didn’t move. Her storm-gray eyes stayed locked on him, reading something past the rage. His voice carried pain beneath its edge, a torment too raw to be hidden.

“You think I’m cruel,” he growled, breath harsh. “You think I’m only ruthless. But you don’t see the truth, girl. You don’t see what I am.”

Selena whispered, “Then show me.”

He laughed, a bitter, broken sound that scraped down her spine. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Her fingers tightened against the doorframe. “Maybe I do.”

The blue in his eyes flared brighter, burning like wildfire. His whole body trembled as if fighting an invisible chain, every muscle taut, veins standing out against his skin. “Stay away, Selena.”

Her heart jolted at the sound of her name in his mouth—sharp, warning, yet carrying weight she couldn’t decipher.

“Why?” she demanded, voice shaking. “Why keep me here if you’re only going to shut me out? Why make me sign that contract if you can’t even stand me near you?”

His chest heaved. For a heartbeat, the feral light dimmed, and something vulnerable flickered through his expression. Then it hardened again.

“Because you don’t know the danger you’re in.”

Selena swallowed hard, refusing to look away. “Then tell me. Tell me what you are.”

Another growl tore free, this one more beast than man. He slammed his palm flat against the glass, inches from her face. The impact reverberated through her skull.

“If you stay close to me,” Damian snarled, voice deepened into something monstrous, “I will destroy you.”

Selena’s breath stilled. Her hand hovered over the cold glass, almost reaching for him despite everything screaming not to. His eyes blazed, unrelenting, as though daring her to test the truth of his words.

She whispered, barely audible, “Then why do you sound afraid of that?”

Damian’s jaw tightened. For the first time, the silence between them felt heavier than his threats. His fingers curled against the glass, not striking, just pressed there, trembling.

“Because I am,” he said finally, voice low, almost broken.

Her lips parted, but no words came. She stood frozen, torn between terror and something deeper, something dangerous that pulled her toward him when she should have run.

And for the fir

st time, she realized—what caged Damian Blackthorne wasn’t just iron and glass. It was himself.