The fire in the manor's hearths burned low, casting flickering shadows across the ancient stone walls. Ivy sat in the library, the faint glow of candlelight illuminating her pale features as she thumbed the tarnished key in her hand. The weight of it was tangible, as if it carried the burden of the secrets it could unlock. The memory of Gabriel's kiss lingered on her lips, both thrilling and disorienting, like a melody she couldn't forget but didn't fully understand.
Her gaze wandered to the towering shelves, filled with books that smelled of dust and forgotten lives. The library felt alive, like it was watching her, urging her to move forward. The sound of the storm from the night before had been replaced by an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional creak of the manor as it settled in its ancient bones.
Ivy's thoughts drifted back to Gabriel—his touch, his voice, the haunted look in his eyes when he spoke of curses and danger. She felt an inexplicable connection to him, as though her presence in this house was more than chance, more than fate. But what was she to him? A guest? A temptation? Or something else entirely?
Her fingers tightened around the key as she stood, the decision already made. Whatever secrets this key unlocked, she had to know. Gabriel's warnings echoed in her mind, but they only fueled her determination. He was hiding something—something that tied him to this place, to her.
The west wing loomed ahead, a place Gabriel had forbidden her to explore. The hallway leading to it was different from the rest of the manor. The air was colder here, heavy with an almost oppressive stillness. The walls were bare, their wood darkened with age and carved with faint symbols Ivy couldn't decipher. The sconces that lined the corridor flickered, their flames struggling against an unseen force.
The door at the end of the hall was massive, its surface scarred and weathered as though it had endured centuries of storms. Ivy hesitated for only a moment before fitting the key into the lock. It turned with a groan, the sound reverberating down the empty hallway like a warning.
Beyond the door was a staircase spiraling downward into darkness. The air was damp and cold, carrying the faint metallic scent of earth and stone. Each step echoed as Ivy descended, the walls closing in around her.
At the bottom of the stairs, she found herself in a vast chamber that looked more like a crypt than a room. The ceiling was vaulted, held aloft by thick stone columns, and the floor was lined with intricately carved tiles that formed an ancient pattern. A strange, dim light seemed to emanate from the walls themselves, bathing the space in an unearthly glow.
In the center of the room stood a pedestal, its surface engraved with the same symbols she'd seen in the hallway. Resting atop it was an object that made Ivy's breath catch—a mirror, its frame wrought from silver and inlaid with small, dark stones that seemed to pulse faintly, as though alive.
Her pulse quickened as she approached it. The mirror called to her, its surface unnervingly still despite the dim light. When she peered into it, her reflection didn't greet her. Instead, she saw swirling shadows, a storm of darkness and light that seemed to shift and writhe like living things.
"What are you?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
The mirror pulsed in response, and for a moment, she thought she heard whispers—soft, fragmented voices that seemed to echo both inside and outside her head.
"Ivy."
She spun around, her heart leaping into her throat. Gabriel stood at the base of the stairs, his face shadowed and his golden eyes burning with an intensity she'd never seen before.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped closer. "This place was never meant for you."
"I found the key," Ivy said, her words rushed and defensive. "I had to know—what is this? What's down here? What are you hiding?"
Gabriel's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "This mirror is not a game, Ivy. It's a portal, a curse, and a trap all in one. It doesn't just show the past; it takes pieces of the soul of anyone who looks into it too long. Do you have any idea what you've done by coming here?"
His words sent a chill through her, but she held her ground. "Then why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you explain? You can't keep me in the dark and expect me to stay away."
Gabriel closed the distance between them in three long strides, his towering presence making her breath hitch. He cupped her face in his hands, his touch firm but not unkind. "Because the more you know, the more danger you're in."
She searched his eyes, seeing not anger but fear—a deep, soul-wrenching fear that only made her heart ache for him. "You can't protect me from everything, Gabriel," she said softly. "Whatever this is—whatever we are—I'm not running away."
His expression shifted, the tension in his jaw softening as something raw and unguarded flickered in his gaze. "Ivy," he whispered, his voice like a plea.
And then his lips were on hers, urgent and unyielding, as though he were trying to claim her, to keep her here with him despite the storm raging in his heart. Ivy responded instinctively, her hands tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him.
The room seemed to fade, the cold stone and eerie light replaced by the heat of their shared desire. Gabriel's hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer, and Ivy felt as though the world itself had narrowed to this moment.
When they broke apart, both of them were breathing hard, their foreheads pressed together as they struggled to regain control.
"I can't lose you," Gabriel said, his voice raw. "Not to this place. Not to me."
"You won't," Ivy promised, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her. "But you have to trust me. Whatever this mirror is, whatever it means—I need to know."
Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment, his grip on her tightening. "Then I'll show you," he said finally. "But I can't promise you'll like what you see."