"Ugh!"
A sudden, sharp pain sliced through Elise's head, and she gripped it tightly, feeling an unbearable pressure building behind her eyes. Her body, still trembling from the chaos of the night before, slumped against the wooden door behind her.
The cool surface pressed against her back as she fought to gather her bearings. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, each one a struggle against the relentless fire spreading through her skull. She tried to steady herself, but it was as if the world around her had shattered, spinning wildly out of control.
She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the darkness would somehow help. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, a frantic, deafening rhythm that matched the whirlwind of panic in her mind, flashing back to the horrors of last night.
Brother… The thought clawed its way through the pain, and she pressed her palms harder against her temples, desperately trying to force it away.
But the pain only intensified, a searing agony ripping through her head as if her very bones were on fire. Her breaths grew shakier, more ragged, her chest heaving with every desperate attempt to draw air into her lungs.
I am brother's mate?
The word echoed, haunting her mind like a cruel specter. She tried to shake it off, but it clung to her thoughts like a dark shadow. Her body felt heavy, weighed down by the suffocating reality of it all, still quaking from the adrenaline that had yet to fully leave her veins.
Her breaths grew shorter and faster as a tidal wave of confusion and fear surged within her, threatening to pull her under. Her chest rose and fell, each inhale more jagged and strained than the last.
This isn't happening… This can't be happening. It's all so wrong.
A soft knock on the door cut through her spiraling thoughts, making her heart leap into her throat. Her head jerked up, eyes wide and locked on the door handle.
"Elise?" A deep, familiar voice broke the silence—a voice that was both a comfort and a curse. "It's me. Open up."
Dietrich's voice.
Elise's heart skipped a beat, her fingers digging into the cold wood at her back. With the alcohol from last night purged from her system, the idea of facing him now felt like a boulder crushing her chest, leaving her breathless.
"Go away!" she shouted, her voice breaking and strained, barely louder than a whisper. She pressed herself harder against the door, as if sheer willpower alone could keep him out. "I can't… I can't talk to you right now."
Silence.
A silence so heavy it seemed to suck the air from the room. She could hear him sigh deeply, the sound of his breath catching.
"Elise, we need to talk," Dietrich said, his voice measured but edged with a tension he couldn't hide. "Please open the door. It's important."
"No!" Elise's voice cracked, raw and desperate. "I don't want to hear it. Just… just leave me alone."
Her heart drummed wildly against her ribs, each beat vibrating with the dread and uncertainty coursing through her. She wasn't ready to face what had been revealed, wasn't ready to confront him—not now, maybe not ever.
On the other side, Dietrich pressed his forehead against the door, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned white. The tension between them was like a live wire, something that had been simmering for years but was now threatening to explode.
"Please, Elise," he murmured, his voice softer, almost broken. "I'm sorry for everything. But we can't just ignore it."
Tears welled in Elise's eyes, blurring her vision. She could feel her heart tearing in two—the deep, primal pull toward him and the societal taboo that stood between them like an insurmountable wall.
"I… I need time," she choked out, her voice thick with pain. "Please, brother. Just give me some time."
Dietrich's breath hitched, a sharp intake of air as he heard the anguish in her voice. It hurt to know he was the cause, but he knew better than to push her now.
"Alright," he finally said, his tone low and resigned. "I'll give you space. But, please come out, okay?"
He lingered for a moment, his hand hovering over the door handle as if hoping she might change her mind. When no answer came, he sighed and turned away, his footsteps retreating down the hall, leaving Elise in the thick of her turmoil.
Dietrich moved down the hallway, his bare feet crunching over broken glass and splintered wood from the battle that had torn through their home. His eyes roved over the destruction—the slashed furniture, the bloodstains darkening the carpet, the bodies of the assassins sprawled on the floor.
I can't let her stay here. Not like this. Not when I'm this close to losing control.
He gritted his teeth, his whole body trembling. Last night, he'd barely managed to rein in the beast within him, the primal force that demanded he claim what it saw as his.
Elise was innocent, and she needed to be far away from him—away from the danger he posed.
I have to take her somewhere safe. Somewhere away from me.
Without another moment's hesitation, he pushed his hand in his jean's pocket as he grabbed his phone. His fingers flew over the screen as he dialed a number.
"Julian," he said the second his friend picked up, his voice hard and urgent. "I need you to arrange for a cab to take Elise back to my mom's place."
"Sir, it's five in the morning," Julian replied, groggy. "It'll take some time to—"
"I don't care how," Dietrich cut in sharply, his tone brooking no argument. "Just get it done. I need her out of here. Now."
There was a brief pause on the other end, but Julian, sensing the gravity of the situation, quickly agreed. "Understood, sir. I'll make it quick."
Dietrich ended the call and pocketed his phone, oblivious to the figure standing just a few steps behind him, having overheard every word.
"That's your talking!?"