Chapter 7

Elena

The iron gates closed behind us with a loud, heavy metallic thud, sealing off the dark, rainy world outside.

Aeron drove up a long, curving driveway lined with towering pine trees that swayed under the heavy wind. At the end of the drive sat a massive, three-story stone mansion illuminated by warm yellow lights. It looked more like a fortress than a home, cold, grand, and completely isolated from the rest of the world.

He brought the car to a smooth stop right in front of the wide stone steps leading to the main entrance. He turned off the engine, dropping the cabin into a sudden, heavy quiet.

"Stay here," he ordered quietly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Before I could answer, he opened his door and stepped out into the pouring rain. He walked around the front of the hood, opened my door, and extended a hand toward me.

I stared at his long, bare fingers, then looked up into his face. Rain streamed down his dark hair and soaked the collar of his shirt, but he didn't even blink.

"I can walk," I said, clutching my duffel bag tightly against my chest as I swung my legs out of the car.

The moment my boots hit the wet pavement, my knees gave out. The sheer exhaustion of the night, the brutal drop from the window, and the freezing cold finally caught up to my body all at once. I stumbled forward, my vision swimming with black spots.

Strong arms caught me before I could hit the ground. Aeron scooped me up easily, pulling my shivering body against his firm chest. My head fell back against his shoulder, and my hands automatically reached out to grip his wet shirt so I wouldn't drop.

"You're completely out of strength, little bird," he murmured, his breath hot against my cold temple. "Stop fighting me for five minutes."

He carried me up the wide stone steps and pushed open the heavy front door.

Inside, the house was warm, quiet, and filled with the soft glow of golden lights reflecting off polished marble floors. A massive double staircase curved up to the second floor, and the air smelled faintly of cedar and expensive incense. It was far grander than my family's house, yet it felt completely empty of life.

An elderly woman in a neat black dress stepped out from a hallway, her hands folded politely in front of her.

"Mr. Blackwood," she said, her eyes widening slightly when she saw me dripping water all over the clean marble. "I didn't know we were expecting a guest."

"Set up the master guest suite on the second floor, Mrs. Gable," Aeron replied, not breaking his stride as he carried me straight toward the grand staircase. "Bring clean towels, a change of clothes, and the first-aid kit immediately."

"Right away, sir."

I squeezed my eyes shut, embarrassed by how filthy and broken I must have looked compared to everything in this place. "Aeron... put me down. Please."

He ignored me completely, carrying me up the stairs and down a long, carpeted hallway until he pushed open a large set of double doors.

He walked into a massive bedroom featuring a plush king-sized bed, a crackling stone fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the stormy grounds. He carried me straight to the edge of the bed and set me down gently on the soft mattress.

I sank into the cushions, pulling my wet coat closer around myself. My body wouldn't stop shaking.

Aeron crouched down in front of me, bringing himself right to eye level. He reached out, his long fingers carefully undoing the zipper of my heavy coat.

"No," I whispered, pulling back instinctively.

"It's soaked through, Elena," he said, his voice unusually soft, though his eyes remained firm. "You're going to get sick if you sit in these wet clothes."

He gently peeled the heavy coat off my shoulders and tossed it onto the floor. Next, he reached for my raw, dirt-caked hands. I tried to pull them back, but he held my wrists gently, turning my palms upward under the light.

The skin on both palms was ripped open, red, raw, and bleeding in small lines where the oak bark had dug in.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Mrs. Gable walked in carrying a tray with clean white towels, a fresh pair of warm cotton pajamas, and a metal box of medical supplies. She set the tray on the nightstand and gave me a kind, pitying smile before bowing her head.

"I've set out the clothes, sir. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gable. You can go to bed."

Once the door closed behind her, Aeron reached for the bottle of antiseptic liquid and a soft cloth from the tray. He soaked the cloth and looked back up at me.

"This is going to sting," he warned softly.

Before I could answer, he pressed the wet cloth gently against my left palm.

A sharp, burning pain shot straight up my arm, making me gasp and kick my feet against the mattress. Tears sprang to my eyes instantly.

"Shh," he grunted, holding my wrist steady while he cleaned away the dirt and dried blood. "Hold still."

"Why are you doing this?" I sobbed, the tears finally overflowing as the pain and fear washed through me. "Why are you being nice to me? You don't even like me. You're going to marry Isabella. Why didn't you just leave me on that bench?"

Aeron stopped his hand. He set the cloth down, picked up a roll of white gauze, and began wrapping it carefully around my palm, covering the raw skin.

"Your mother called your father twenty minutes ago," he said quietly, his eyes focused entirely on wrapping the bandage. "Your father called me right after."

My heart dropped like a stone into my stomach. The room seemed to tilt around me. "He... he called you?"

"Yes," Aeron replied, tying off the bandage on my left hand before taking my right hand. "He told me you ran away. He asked if my security team had seen you near the main road."

I held my breath, terror choking my throat. "What... what did you tell him?"

Aeron finished wrapping my second hand, sliding his fingers gently over the clean white gauze. Then he lifted his head, his gray eyes locking onto mine with an intense, unreadable look that made the room grow completely quiet.

"I told him I hadn't seen a single trace of you," he said smoothly. "And that if my men found you, I would make sure you were returned home safely."

"You lied to him?" I whispered, utterly stunned.

"I lied to him," Aeron agreed, standing up to his full, towering height. He looked down at me, his face returning to that cold, distant mask he always wore. "Now go change into those dry clothes. I'll have Mrs. Gable bring up some warm soup."

He turned and walked toward the bedroom door, gripping the brass handle.

"Aeron," I called out softly, my voice trembling as he stopped in the doorway. "Why did you lie to him?"

He didn't turn around, but his shadow stretched long across the polished floor under the warm light.

"Because your father thinks he owns you," Aeron said, his deep voice carrying clearly through the silent room. "And I don't like other men keeping what belongs in my house."