The cabin was unlike anything Lena had imagined. The exterior had been deceptive—its weathered wood and isolated setting suggested abandonment, but the moment she stepped inside, she realized how wrong she'd been.
The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, strange and otherworldly symbols etched into the wood. Worn bookshelves stretched up to the ceiling, crammed with tomes bound in cracked leather. Glass jars lined another wall, filled with peculiar objects she didn't dare inspect too closely—dried herbs, feathers, and small bones suspended in liquid. The air was thick with a mix of scents—smoke, spice, and something metallic that made her stomach turn.
A single chandelier hung from the high ceiling, its iron frame twisted into claw-like shapes, each candleholder shaped like a snarling face. Shadows danced across the room, flickering ominously as the fire in the hearth roared to life. Beneath her boots, the floorboards creaked faintly, as though the house itself were alive, watching her every move.
Her eyes flitted to the staircase, which spiraled upward in a way that felt almost unnatural, as if it shouldn't exist in a space like this. Every detail seemed meticulously placed, designed to unsettle and intrigue at the same time.
The man waiting for them inside, however, was an anomaly.
Unlike the sinister air of the house or the cold brutality of Damien and his brother, he greeted them with an easy smile. He moved with a practiced elegance, his every action exuding charm.
"Ah, finally," he said, his voice warm and inviting, though there was a sharpness beneath it, like a blade wrapped in silk. "You're late."
"She doesn't move fast," Damien muttered, his tone dripping with disdain as he brushed past Lena, his golden eyes briefly locking with hers. A shiver ran through her at the sheer coldness in his gaze, but she straightened her spine, refusing to cower under his scrutiny.
The man, however, paid no mind to Damien's words. Instead, his piercing violet eyes fixed on Lena, softening in a way that immediately put her on edge. "You must be freezing," he said smoothly, stepping forward and taking her bag without asking. "Let me show you to your room. You need to warm up."
Lena opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. She cast a wary glance at Damien, who lounged against the wall, watching her like a predator savoring his next meal. She clutched the blanket the man handed her, following him upstairs without a word.
The room he led her to was modest but warm, the fireplace crackling with freshly lit logs. Thick rugs covered the floor, and a heavy quilt was draped over the bed.
"Settle in," he said softly, his voice almost kind. "Dinner will be ready soon."
Before she could respond, he disappeared, leaving her alone to process the strange dichotomy of this place. The cabin, with all its eerie details, seemed built to unnerve, yet this man acted as though they were in some quaint countryside inn.
When she returned downstairs, the scent of roasted meat and spiced vegetables filled the air. The brothers were already seated at the long wooden table, Damien leaning back in his chair with a look of casual boredom while his brother toyed with a knife, its blade glinting in the firelight.
The man ushered her into a seat, placing a plate of food in front of her. "Eat," he said, his tone leaving little room for argument.
She hesitated but eventually picked up her fork. The food was rich and hearty, warming her from the inside out. The man kept the conversation light, asking her questions about herself in a way that felt almost normal.
She answered cautiously, unsure of his motives. But he didn't press when she hesitated, didn't demand answers the way Damien always seemed to. Instead, he smiled softly, as if he had all the time in the world.
"You're quiet," he remarked, pouring her a mug of hot chocolate after the meal. "Don't let them scare you into silence. You're safe here."
Safe. The word felt hollow in this place, with Damien's eyes boring into her from across the room.
When she reached for the dishes, the man stopped her, taking them from her hands. "No need. Rest is what you need now."
The brothers exchanged a look, but neither said a word. The man simply smiled, leading her back to the fire and handing her the mug.
"Get some sleep soon," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "It'll be a long day tomorrow."
And as kind as his words were, there was something in the way he said them that left Lena with a sense of foreboding she couldn't shake.