Chapter 195

Chris

No matter how hard I tried to doze off, sleep eluded me despite my earlier… strenuous activities.

Beside me, Ava slept peacefully as ever, her chest rising and falling gently. The moonlight filtering through the window cast a soft glow on her skin, and I couldn’t help but admire her beauty—her chestnut curls spread across the pillow, her slightly parted lips, her milky white breasts.

I resisted the urge to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, not wanting to disturb her sleep. At least one of us was able to relax enough to sleep.

I couldn’t put my finger on why I couldn’t sleep like she was, though; this house was cavernous and creepy, and the stories didn’t help any. But while I was open to the idea of ghosts, I certainly didn’t entirely believe in them, and I definitely wasn’t scared of them.

So, I chalked it up to missing my own bed—or rather, the plush bed back in Ava’s cottage.

Finally, after what felt like hours of tossing and turning, I realized sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon. Figuring that maybe a warm drink would help, I slipped out of bed and made my way downstairs to the kitchen.

The house was eerily quiet and dark. I fumbled for the light switches, but most seemed to be either broken or simply nonexistent in this old manor. Instead, with a sigh, I called upon my wolf to help me see a little bit better in the dark.

Soon, the harsh corners and old furniture of the manor stood out in more stark detail, and I was able to easily navigate the unfamiliar territory—a skill that I had missed sorely during my time in the human world.

In the kitchen, I found a pot and poured some milk into it, setting it on the stove to warm up. The gentle hum of the gas burner was the only sound breaking the silence.

While waiting, I wandered over to the back door, peering out into the night. The fog was even thicker than before, if that was possible. Curious, I opened the door and stuck my hand out, shuddering a bit when I couldn’t even see it through the dense mist.

The air was cold and damp and it immediately began to send white tendrils inward as though it were trying to reach into the house—like the interior of the manor was the last little speck of space that the fog desperately wanted to fill out here. I let it linger for a moment, watching with rapt fascination as the tendrils curled over my fingers and up my arm, almost… climbing me.

But then, a small sliver of fear took over.

Quickly, I shut the door, shivering slightly. “Creepy,” I muttered, rubbing my now cold and somewhat damp arms with my hands and returning to the stove.

As I turned, a flash of movement caught my eye from the corner of the room. “Ava?” I called out without even thinking, wondering if she had woken up and followed me downstairs.

My voice sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet house, but there was no response. Frowning, I moved toward where I had just seen the movement, my heart rate picking up slightly. But when I rounded the corner, I found nothing but empty space.

“Must be seeing things,” I muttered to myself, rubbing my eyes. The lack of sleep was clearly getting to me.

The milk was warm now, so I poured it into a mug and began to wander the halls, sipping slowly as I moved. The old paintings and statues lining the corridors seemed to watch me as I passed, their eyes following my movements in the dim light.

I paused in front of a particularly stern-looking portrait, wondering who the subject had been and what their connection was to Fabian’s family. Judging from the piercing eyes and salt-and-pepper mustache that was curled up at the ends, I had to guess that it was Fabian’s father or grandfather. A handsome, regal man. Fabian was handsome and regal too, although his recent state was a bit jarring.

Suddenly, another flash of movement caught my attention and caused me to whip my head around. This time, I was sure I hadn’t imagined it—because I saw a flash of white fabric disappearing around the corner.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice echoing in the empty hallway. A floorboard creaked in response, and I found myself following the sound. The warm mug in my hands was all but forgotten as curiosity took over.

As I moved deeper into the house, I caught more glimpses of that white fabric disappearing around corners. Each time, I quickened my pace, but whoever—or whatever—I was chasing always seemed to be just out of reach.

The rational part of my brain told me this was ridiculous, that I should just go back to bed. But something compelled me to keep going; pure intrigue, I supposed.

After what felt like hours of this strange game of cat and mouse, I realized that I was now thoroughly lost. The manor was far larger and more mazelike than I had initially thought, with winding corridors and numerous identical-looking doors. Each turn led to another unfamiliar hallway, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going in circles.

“Great,” I muttered, trying another door only to find it locked. “Ava’s going to kill me if I don’t make it back to the room before she wakes up.” I could already imagine her worried face, possibly thinking I had gone and abandoned her in this creepy old house.

Feeling frustrated by now, I stopped in my tracks in an attempt to regain my bearings. The milk in my mug had long since gone cold, and I set it down on a nearby side table to try wiggling a lock loose on another door.

That was when I heard it—soft, muffled sounds coming from somewhere nearby.

Someone was… crying.

A chill instantly ran down my spine , and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Slowly, I turned toward the sound. There, at the end of the hallway stood a woman in a white dress, her back to me.

I froze, my eyes widening into saucers.

The crying certainly seemed to be coming from her. In the dim light, I could make out long, dark hair cascading down her back, contrasting sharply with the pale fabric of her dress. She didn’t look translucent like a ghost, but rather solid and distinctly real, and I quickly became worried that there was a squatter living somewhere in the depths of this enormous house.

“Hello?” I called out, trying to sound reassuring. “Are you alright? Do you need help?”

The woman didn’t respond or turn around. Her shoulders shook slightly with her sobs, but otherwise, she remained perfectly still. I took a step toward her, slowly reaching out my hand despite my reservations.

“Miss?” I tried again, taking another cautious step forward. “My name is Chris. I’m staying here with Fabian. Are you lost too?”

Still no response. She just continued sobbing quietly, her slender body trembling.

I was about halfway down the hallway now, close enough that I should have been able to hear her breathing, but all I could hear was the woman’s muffled crying. A sense of unease washed over me then, my wolf’s hackles raising and sensing that something was definitely not right here, but I took another shaky step forward nonetheless.

Just as I was about to reach out and touch her shoulder, the lights suddenly flicked on, momentarily blinding me. When my vision cleared, the woman was gone.

“Chris?” The sound of Fabian’s voice came from behind me. I spun around to see him standing there in a velvet robe, looking half-asleep and confused. “What are you doing wandering around at this hour?”

I blinked, still trying to process what I had just seen—or at least, what I thought I had seen.

“I... I couldn’t sleep” I said, scratching my head. “I came down to get some warm milk and then I got lost.” I hesitated, then added, “Fabian, I think I just saw a woman in a white dress at the end of this hallway. She was crying, but when the lights came on, she vanished.”

Fabian’s eyes widened slightly, any trace of sleepiness vanishing from his face.

“So you saw the wailing woman…”