3 : Rest
Evelyn
When his gaze, as sharp and predatory as a hawk’s, impaled mine, I knew he saw everything. He didn't just notice my fear; he inhaled it, a connoisseur savoring a rare vintage. It was a cold, primal terror that seized my lungs, stealing the air before it could reach them. My heart hammered against my ribs, a panicked bird trapped in a cage, and I felt a faint tremor ripple through my limbs. As if in answer to this silent confession, his thumb, surprisingly calloused yet gentle, began to stroke the sensitive skin just beneath my ear. The contrast was jarring – a rough hand, a tender touch, a palpable threat veiled in a caress.
"You thought I'd hit you?" His voice was not merely low; it was a silken rasp, woven with an unspoken promise of danger, a rumble that vibrated through my very bones, making the fine hairs on my arms stand on end. It was the sound of a predator, too confident in its power to need to shout. I swallowed hard, the muscles in my throat clenching, and instinctively shook my head. The movement was slow, hesitant, barely a denial, and I knew in my gut it was utterly unconvincing. He probably saw the lie flicker in my eyes, heard the frantic thump of my heart.
Raphael’s right cheek muscle twitched, a subtle ripple beneath the smooth, flawless skin, a brief glimpse of the raw power held carefully in check. He leaned closer still, a deliberate invasion of my dwindling personal space. The air crackled around us, charged with an invisible force, and my breath hitched. His touch, though unsettling, sent a strange, electrifying spark through me, a jolt that started where his thumb rested and spread like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, which was the most terrifying part. This bewildering cocktail of fear and an undeniable, almost magnetic pull confused and frightened me in equal measure, leaving me teetering on the precipice of a chaos I couldn't comprehend.
My breathing turned shallow, ragged, as I watched him stop mere centimeters from my face. His hot breath, so close it felt like a searing brand, ghosted across my lips, tasting of an intoxicating blend of dark roasted coffee and crisp peppermint. It was strange, a scent almost too intimate, yet it pulled at something deep within me, a siren's call to a forbidden desire. The mix was divine, a scent that promised both comfort and exquisite danger, wrapping me in a dizzying cloud of his presence.
This man’s oppressive intimacy, the way he consumed my senses, should have driven me to shrieking hysteria. Logic dictated I thrash, scream, and fight to escape this velvet trap. But I didn't. Instead, I found myself utterly mesmerized, a moth drawn to a dangerously beautiful flame. His dark eyes held me in a silent, potent thrall. They weren't just looking at me; they were seeing me, dissecting every emotion, every tremor, claiming me without a single spoken word. I felt as if I were falling into their depths, my will dissolving like sugar in a hot drink.
"If you're so sure about what's going on here," he murmured, his voice now a low purr, "why not try to run away?" His seriousness was absolute, yet there was a faint, almost imperceptible curve to his lips, a phantom smile that never quite reached his eyes. It was a threatening smile, a challenge delivered with an air of lethal amusement, yet it wasn't overtly terrifying. It was something far worse: an invitation to a game he knew I couldn't win. He knew I was a prisoner, not just in his house, but in his gaze, in his touch, in this terrifying, burgeoning fascination.
I swallowed hard again, the sound loud in the sudden silence, my mind a desperate scramble of fragmented thoughts. Images of yesterday, of the attack, the blood, the shadowy figures, flashed through my mind, fragmented and terrifying. His hand, hot and surprisingly rough, moved from my jaw, tracing the curve of my cheekbone, then gliding slowly, deliberately, down to my neck. My skin prickled where he touched, leaving a trail of fire. His sandy eyes, dark and fathomless, followed the path of his hand, as if mapping out territory, marking ownership. A dizzying wave of heat washed over me, a confusing blend of terror and something undeniably… potent. Oh boy. This was far, far more complicated than a simple rescue.
"I... I don't know," I managed, the words a raw whisper. I was afraid to disturb the fragile, tension-thick silence, afraid a louder voice might shatter the moment and unleash whatever dark storm brewed behind his eyes. I didn't want to annoy the man I now, in a disturbing corner of my mind, thought of as their 'Master.' The title tasted bitter, but it felt terribly true.
Raphael finally smiled, a slow, predatory unveiling of perfect teeth, before turning his gaze back to mine. "You were in pain," he stated, his voice now holding an almost hypnotic quality. "Your mind can hardly comprehend what happened yesterday. You only know that you were attacked in the dead of night, and I... I rescued you. It's much simpler than anything you might be trying to piece together." The casual dismissal of my fragmented memories, the calculated framing of his narrative, felt like a cold hand twisting a knife in my gut. He was trying to rewrite my reality, to make me doubt my own senses.
My eyebrows rose, a flicker of outrage cutting through the haze of fear and confusion. "I know well what I saw," I countered, my voice regaining a surprising thread of strength. "And what’s happening here is highly suspicious." I had seen things, fleeting glimpses of living, breathing, talking plants and power that defied human logic, things his simple explanation couldn’t possibly cover. He was lying. Or at least, omitting a mountain of truth.
Raphael's gaze deepened, boring into my eyes as if trying to read my very soul. Then, with an almost imperceptible shift, he leaned in closer still, his lips brushing against my ear. A shiver, deep and involuntary, coursed through me, and I barely suppressed a small, fragile moan.
"And," he whispered, his voice a low, dark caress that sent another wave of shivers chasing down my spine, "if that is true, are you not afraid of me?" His smile, a searing phantom, pressed against my skin, as hot and light as a feather, yet infinitely more powerful. It was a taunt, a challenge, a testament to his absolute control. He reveled in my fear, wore it like a victor’s cloak.
I squeezed my eyes shut, a futile attempt to block out his overwhelming proximity, to gather my shattered thoughts. My breathing became even more erratic, a frantic cadence against his steady presence. "Give me a reason to be afraid of you," I challenged, though my voice wavered, "apart from the fact that you effectively kidnapped me, brought me to your creepy mansion, and even… changed me?" I dared to open my eyes and found his face, impossibly close, already back in my line of sight. The memory of the 'change' was vague, a blur of strange sensations, but it was undeniable. Something fundamental had shifted within me since I’d woken here.
Raphael smiled again, a full, slow, utterly captivating smile that stretched his lips, revealing a flash of white, perfect teeth. Wow, he really liked doing that. It was a smile that promised both delight and danger, and that sight alone sent a fresh wave of goosebumps prickling over my skin, a testament to the conflicting desires warring within me.
"But you're healthy and safe, aren't you?" he asked, his voice laced with a silk-covered threat. One dark eyebrow arched, a mocking question. Then, with an infuriating slowness, he leaned back, straightening to his full, imposing height. The sudden distance, the abrupt withdrawal of his warmth, left me feeling strangely bereft, a chill seeping into my core. I almost whimpered, like a lost puppy yearning for a familiar, albeit dangerous, touch. The cold, stark reality of my situation hit me with renewed force.
I looked down, feeling small and vulnerable before him. "Tell me why I'm here," I pleaded, the desperate words escaping my lips before I could stop them. "Please... don't lie to me..." The fragile hope in my voice was almost painful.
Seconds stretched into an agonizing silence, heavy and pregnant with unspoken truths. Then, I felt it again: his hot, rough hand on my chin, tilting my head back with a gentle but firm command, forcing my eyes to meet his once more. Those intoxicating sparks, a tangible energy, danced over my skin, confirming that this connection, whatever it was, was real and growing.
He stared at me for another long moment, his eyes searching mine, his expression unreadable, as if weighing his words with immense care. Finally, he spoke, his voice deeper now, almost solemn. "For now, let's just leave that conversation for later. Just know this: you are safe with me. I won't let anyone hurt you." It was a promise that sounded like a threat, a declaration of ownership veiled as protection. Yet, in his serious tone, in the unwavering intensity of his gaze, I perceived a strange kind of truth. A part of me, against all logic, wanted to believe him, to trust him. It was a dangerous, terrible sensation.
"Why me? Why did you come?" The questions tumbled out, urgent, desperate, reflecting the storm raging in my mind. There were so many unanswered queries, a labyrinth of confusion that I couldn’t navigate.
Raphael’s smile softened, becoming almost wistful, a rare, fleeting glimpse of something other than power or amusement. He rubbed my cheek again, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw, and the familiar shiver, a blend of fear and strange pleasure, rippled through me. "Later," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Now, the most important thing is for you to rest. I'll bring you whatever you wish to eat, and then you must sleep. You need to feel better, okay?" He started to withdraw, and I began to protest, a surge of defiant questions bubbling up. But his eyes, suddenly blazing with an intensity that brooked no argument, pinned me in place. His flaming gaze consumed my words, silencing them completely.
"Relax and rest, I said," he reiterated, his voice dropping an octave, brooking no debate. "Did I make myself clear enough?" He waited, his silence a powerful command, for my understanding. Like some obedient pet, utterly confused by its own compliance, I nodded, unable to do anything else. A terrifying thought flickered through my mind: What is wrong with me?
Raphael’s lips curved into a slow, impossibly sensual smile, one that spoke of deep satisfaction and absolute triumph. "Good girl."
Oh God. He’s going to kill me, I thought, a cold dread mixing with the bewildering heat in my veins. And we’ve only known each other for a single, terrifying day.