Chapter 4
Spring Willow's POV:
The door to the master suite groaned, a low, ominous sound that signaled the end of my short-lived peace.
I bolted upright, my heart hammering against my ribs. The room was bathed in the cold, silver glow of the moon, making the eyes of the woman in the photographs seem to track my every move.
The air charged with a sudden, predatory electricity.
A man stood in the doorway.
He didn't move at first. He just stood there, a silhouette carved out of pure shadow.
He was tall, his presence so overbearing it felt like the walls of the massive room were shrinking, pinning me to the mattress. Then, he flicked the light.
The sudden brightness burned. I blinked, my vision blurring as I tried to reconcile the man in front of me with the smiling face in the photos on the wall. It was him.
But the warmth in those pictures had been replaced by a terrifying coldness. His eyes were the eyes of a man watching an insect crawl across his dinner plate.
"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, my voice sounding small and pathetic even to my own ears. I scrambled to stand, my legs tangling in the sheets.
"Please don't mind me. I think I... I was told this was where I should—"
He didn't let me finish. He didn't even let me breathe.
In three long, predatory strides, he closed the distance. Before I could recoil, his hand shot out, his fingers locking around my upper arm like a shackle.
The strength in his grip was staggering, the kind of force that promised bruises before the sun came up.
Then, he moved.
He didn't say a word. He just yanked me toward him, his other hand gripping the back of my neck, and crushed his mouth against mine.
There was no passion in it. It wasn't a kiss; it was an assault. It was cold, hard, and tasted a bottomless, ancient rage.
I felt the sharp scrape of his teeth against my lip, and a second later, the metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth.
Fury finally broke through my shock. I wasn't a doll. I... I bit down hard.
He let out a sharp hiss, pulling back just enough to look at me. A thin trail of blood ran down his lower lip, stark against his pale skin.
He didn't look hurt. He looked... amused. A dark, twisted smirk pulled at his mouth as he wiped the blood away with his thumb.
"So," he rasped, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a chill straight down my spine.
"You've got the nerve to bite me?"
I was trembling so hard I could barely stand, but I forced myself to meet those icy blue eyes.
"Are you out of your mind?!" I cried, my voice cracking with humiliation.
"Do we even know each other? Why would you do this? You already have a wife! You have her!"
I pointed a shaking finger at the photographs of the radiant woman on the walls.
The shift in the room was instantaneous. The air just turn cold. The earlier smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a raw, murderous hatred that I instinctively tried to bolt.
He was faster.
His hand flew to my throat, his palm slamming into my windpipe. He didn't squeeze enough to kill me, but he squeezed enough to remind me that he could.
He shoved me backward, my spine hitting the cold, hard stone of the wall with a sickening thud.
"You dare speak her name?" he hissed. The words were quiet, whispered directly into my ear, but they carried the weight of a death sentence.
"With that filthy mouth? You'll pay for her death. You'll pay for every second she isn't here."
Pain radiated through my skull from the impact. I clawed at his wrist, my nails digging into his skin, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
My lungs burned, gasping for air that wouldn't come. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing. No mercy, no humanity, only a vast, howling abyss of grief that he intended to fill with my suffering.
"Now you understand pain?" he whispered, leaning in so close I could feel the heat of his skin against my freezing face.
"Do you feel it? This is nothing. This is the prologue."
He leaned his weight into his hand, pinning me harder against the stone. I felt my vision start to spark at the edges, my body beginning to go limp as the oxygen failed.
"P… please… let me go," I managed to choke out, the words a dying ember.
At the very last second, he loosened his grip. He let me slump against the wall, watching with cruel satisfaction as I slid to the floor, gasping and clutching my throat.
"Get out," he growled, the command vibrating through the floorboards. "I don't want to see your face again tonight. If you're still in this room in ten seconds, I'll make sure you never walk out of it."
I didn't wait for ten seconds. I scrambled to my feet, my head spinning so fast I nearly fell again.
I stumbled out of the room, my tears falling hot and silent as I fled into the dark, labyrinthine hallway of the mansion.
My mind was a chaotic mess of whys. Who was he? Why did he blame me for a death I knew nothing about?
The decent man I had imagined at the hospital was gone, replaced by a monster who lived in a palace.
I needed to hide. I needed a lock between me and that man.
I ran through the hall, pushing open doors at random until I found a bathroom.
I threw myself inside and threw the bolt, the click of the lock the only thing keeping me from a complete breakdown.
I leaned over the sink, staring into the mirror. The girl looking back was unrecognizable.
My eyes were bloodshot, my hair a wild mess, and already, dark, finger-shaped bruises were blooming around my neck like a macabre necklace.
My legs finally gave out. I slid down the wall, curling into a ball in the corner of the room. I buried my face in my hands, and the sobs finally came ugly, racking sounds that echoed.
"Why?" I whispered into the silence. "Why is it so hard to just survive? God... what did I do in my past life? I'm just trying to save her... I'm just trying to get through the day..."
I rocked back and forth, the cold of the floor seeping into my bones. I felt so small. So utterly alone.
"I miss you, Grandma..." My voice broke, ending in hiccup.
"No one cares... no one asks if I'm okay... no one is coming to help me. I'm all alone." Another sobbed broke again through my throat.
Time lost its meaning. The minutes turned into hours as I sat there, a broken thing in a golden cage. My crying eventually faded into a hollow, rhythmic sniffling.
I rested my head against the wall, my eyelids burning, my body aching with a exhaustion so heavy it felt like death. I was drifting on the edge of a miserable sleep when a sharp sound jolted me upright.
Knock. Knock.
The sound was loud. My heart leapt into my throat, and I froze, holding my breath. Was it him? Had he come to finish what he started?
"Miss Willow?" It was Luba's voice.
"Dinner is ready. Or do you plan to hide in there until you starve? It's pathetic, really."
I clamped a hand over my mouth, forcing back a sob. I didn't move. I didn't breathe.
"Tch. Suit yourself," she muttered. I heard the click of her heels as she walked away, leaving me alone.
The silence returned, heavier than before. I sat in the dark staring at the locked door.
My own broken breathing the only sound in the world, wondering if the sun would ever rise on this house again.
