The next few hours passed in a blur. As I waited for Tristan to return, I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of the situation.
What was going on here? What sort of game was Tristan playing? And why did I agree to it without even knowing what I was getting myself into?
I tried to calm my racing heart and focus on the task ahead. For better or worse, I was now in the company of a powerful mobster, one who held the fate of many lives in his hands.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this wasn't the end of the world. There was still hope. If anything, I should feel grateful that someone had come to my rescue.
And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that this whole thing was far bigger than I could imagine.
*****
After several minutes of waiting yet again, Tristan finally returned, looking cheerful and I could have sworn I had seen a streak of blood running down his chest.
Did he kill those animals?
"Don't worry about me, it's not mine," he said with a grin, noticing my raised eyebrows. "Who did you piss off?"
I shook my head, too stunned to speak.
He shrugged, walking over to the wardrobe against the wall. He opened it up revealing a row of neatly folded shirts.
"You're going to change into something clean and dry before you leave," he said, pulling out a white shirt. "You can wear this if you want."
I nodded dumbly, watching as he wiped off the blood with a wet cloth and pulled on the fresh shirt. The fabric clung to his muscular frame like a second skin, accentuating every curve.
"There is a bathroom through there," he pointed at the door opposite the bed. "You might find some clean clothes in there, but most certainly not for females."
I walked over to the door, opening it to reveal a large marble bathroom with a sunken bathtub. A long mirror hung above the sink, giving me a glimpse of myself in the reflection.
The sight made my stomach churn. My hair was matted, my dress torn and covered in dirt and bloodstains. I looked like a wild animal that had been mauled by wolves.
You just had to look like this in front of someone like him, huh?
I closed the door behind me and went to work on washing the grime from my body. Afterward, I dried myself off using the fluffy towel hanging nearby.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I found Tristan standing near the window, gazing outside at the night sky. He didn't seem to notice me as I stood there in silence, taking in his strong features and handsome face. His blue eyes seemed darker than usual, almost black against his pale skin.
"You changed your mind?" he asked suddenly, startling me from my thoughts.
"No...I'm sorry, lord Tristan. It's just..."
I hesitated, unsure how to explain what was going on in my head. Wasn't I supposed to be terrified right now?
"It's fine. You don't have to keep calling me lord. Just call me Tristan," he said with a sigh, turning away from the window and facing me.
"Cecile," I started again, choosing my words carefully. "Thank you for saving me."
He smiled slightly, though it never reached his eyes. "You're welcome."
For a moment, we stood there in awkward silence. Then, he turned around to stare out the window once more.
"So tell me, Cecile," he said, his voice softer than usual. "What do you know about wolves?"
"Well...not much," I replied honestly. "They are dangerous creatures, but they usually avoid humans."
He chuckled softly. "Wolves aren't always what they seem."
I stared at him curiously, wondering where he was headed with this conversation.
"You shou–"
He crouched, suddenly, as if in pain. I saw a brief flash of terror in his eyes, replaced quickly by a hardened determination. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the windowsill.
His nostrils flared as he breathed in sharply, an act that puzzled me greatly. His gaze was glued to me, a strange mix of confusion, shock, and...something else. Desire?
"I..." His voice cracked, filled with confusion. "Something's... wrong."
I could see his chest rising and falling rapidly, his gaze shifting between me and the room's exit. "Cecile," he said, almost pleading, "you need to leave."
I stood frozen amid the lavish room, my mind trying to comprehend what was happening. "Tristan? What's wrong?"
But he was backing away from me now, his face stricken, almost fearful. "I don't know what's happening," he muttered, voice barely a whisper. "I can't... you need to go. Now."
Instinctively, I moved towards him, worry overriding any fear I might have had. "But, Tristan..."
He jerked away from me, the fear in his eyes replaced by wild desperation. "No, Cecile, listen to me! Stay away!" His words echoed around the silent room, followed by a silence that was more than unsettling.
"Is it my scent?" I blurted out, remembering his reaction when I came out of the bathroom. "Do I smell bad or something?"
"No! It's not that. You smell... too good," he replied, his voice straining as though the very words were painful to utter.
Too good? What was that supposed to mean?
As much as I wanted to retreat from this confusing and alarming situation, I couldn't. Tristan had saved me from those wolves, and even though I didn't know what I was getting myself into, I felt compelled to help him now.
The look he gave me was both tortured and pleading. "Cecile, if you know what I'm struggling with... I can't put you in danger. Please leave."
Danger? What sort of danger could he pose to me after saving me?
"But..."
Suddenly, my eyes fell on his bare chest, noticing the sheen of sweat, and the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. I could see his jaw clenching, the muscles in his neck straining. It dawned on me that he wasn't just pushing me away... he was fighting against something.
Against an urge... an urge towards me, perhaps?
"No, I can't leave you like this," I found myself saying, my voice barely above a whisper. "You saved me, and I told you I'd do anything to repay you."
I saw a flash of something in his eyes, a flicker of surprise before it was quickly masked. His body was tense, like a coiled spring ready to release.
"And, I meant anything, Tristan." My heart pounded as I took another step closer, our gazes locked together.
He closed his eyes, a grimace passing over his features as if he was in pain. When he finally opened his eyes again, they were filled with a raw, burning intensity.
"Cecile, you don't understand..." His voice was raw, desperate. "You don't know what you're offering."
But I did. I understood.
In the midst of the confusion and fear, a strange sense of calm washed over me.
It was a high-stakes game, one that would decide both our fates. But for the first time in my life during my heartbreaking rejection from my ex, I wasn't a pawn. I was a player. And I wasn't going to back down.
"No, Tristan," I said, my voice steady. "I understand perfectly well. And I'm not leaving. Not until I've repaid my debt."
With that, I closed the distance between us, sealing our silent agreement with a soft kiss. As Tristan's arms wrapped around me, holding me close, all thoughts of danger vanished.