Chapter 5: The Rules of the Night

Lena stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Gravel crunched beneath her boots as she hesitated, staring up at the Blackwood Estate.

The mansion loomed before her like a beast in the darkness—ancient, watching, waiting. It wasn’t just a house. It was something else entirely. Something alive.

Its towering spires stretched high into the night, their blackened stone swallowing the moonlight rather than reflecting it. The ivy that clung to its walls was thick and gnarled, its creeping tendrils weaving through cracks in the stone like veins feeding a dark heart.

Dimly lit windows flickered against the night, their glow feeble and muted. They reminded Lena of half-lidded eyes, observing her with quiet amusement.

Behind her, the wrought-iron gates that had swung open upon their arrival stood closed once more, their twisted, claw-like designs casting jagged shadows against the cobblestone drive.

It felt like a trap.

It felt like she’d just walked into the belly of something hungry.

Adrian stepped beside her, exuding the same effortless confidence he always carried. His silver eyes gleamed in the dim light, watching her reaction.

“Welcome home,” he murmured.

A strange sensation crawled up Lena’s spine.

Home.

The word felt foreign here.

She clenched her fists. “Let’s get one thing straight—I agreed to be here, but that doesn’t mean I belong to you.”

Adrian’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.

“You say that now.”

The way he said it—so certain, so absolute—made her stomach tighten.

Lena wasn’t sure what unsettled her more—his confidence… or the small, treacherous part of her that wondered if he was right.

Then, for the first time, she felt it.

Eyes.

Not just Adrian’s. Not just her own reflection in the car window.

Something else.

Something unseen.

Watching.

Waiting.

She swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to turn and run.

Instead, she lifted her chin. “Just tell me the rules. You seem like the type who has plenty.”

Adrian let out a quiet, amused chuckle. “Clever girl.”

Then, the amusement faded, replaced by something heavier.

His voice, when he spoke again, was smooth, deliberate. Like the slow turning of a lock.

The Rules:

1. Never leave the estate after sunset.

2. Never enter the West Wing alone.

3. Never, under any circumstances, invite anyone inside.

Lena frowned. “The first one is obvious, but… what’s in the West Wing?”

Adrian’s smirk vanished.

His expression hardened, shadows playing along the sharp edges of his face.

“Rooms meant for things far older and deadlier than me.”

The words sent an involuntary chill down her spine.

Lena wanted to believe he was messing with her. That this was some elaborate game to keep her on edge.

But she knew.

She knew from the way his voice lacked the usual teasing. From the way his gaze darkened, from the slight shift in his posture—like he was preparing for something he hoped wouldn’t happen.

She exhaled slowly. “And the last rule?”

Adrian’s gaze locked onto hers. For a moment, he was completely still.

And then, finally, he said:

“Because once you invite something inside, you can’t take it back.”

Lena’s pulse jumped.

Not someone.

Something.

An unspoken chill wrapped around her ribs.

Adrian didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.

She could feel it now—the house breathing.

The weight of its history pressing down on her.

The hushed whispers of the wind or something else curling against the walls.

A single question formed in her mind.

How many invitations had already been given?

Adrian turned toward the mansion, his expression unreadable. “Come,” he said simply.

Lena hesitated.

For the first time since stepping onto this estate, she wondered if this was still a deal… or if she had already begun to lose herself to something she could never escape.

Still, she forced herself forward, crossing the threshold.

The heavy doors creaked as they shut behind her.

The sound echoed like a final breath.

Like something had just closed its jaws around her.