SAVING THE ALPHA;002

As our carriage pulled up to the grand mansion, my breath caught in my throat. It was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, an imposing structure surrounded by lush gardens that seemed to stretch on forever. I glanced over at Nicholas, my new husband, trying to gauge his reaction. He simply smiled, a hint of pride glinting in his eyes.

"Welcome to our new home, Sophia," he said as he helped me out of the carriage.

The staff, dressed in impeccable uniforms, greeted us warmly as we stepped onto the cobblestone path leading to the entrance. I was struck by the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of bees working diligently among the gardens.

"Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood, we've been eagerly awaiting your arrival," said an older, silver-haired gentleman who appeared to be the head butler. "Please, allow me to show you around the estate."

As we walked through the halls, I couldn't help but marvel at the opulence and grandeur. The walls were adorned with exquisite tapestries and paintings, and the ceilings boasted intricate frescoes. The polished marble floors reflected the warm glow of the many chandeliers that hung above us.

In one hallway, I noticed a stunning floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the gardens. I paused for a moment to admire the view, feeling the sun's warmth on my face. Nicholas squeezed my hand gently, urging me to keep moving.

"Isn't it breathtaking?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you'll come to love it as much as I do."

"I'm sure I will," I replied, though I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was off about this place.

Maybe it was the fact that it just reminded me of my harsh reality. Because this was what my parents wanted, luxury, nothing more.

Or just the looks on the staff's faces, the exchanged glances.

As we continued our tour, we were introduced to more members of the staff. A young maid with a shy smile and rosy cheeks, an impeccably dressed cook with a kind face, and several others who attended to various tasks around the mansion. They all seemed friendly and competent.

Finally, the tour concluded in the grand dining room, where a lavish meal had been prepared in our honor. As we sat down to eat, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension. This was my new life, my new home. 

Whether I liked it or not,I was here, and this is where I am to stay.

"Do enjoy your meal," The chef said with a grin as she placed what I assumed was the last plate of food on the table and left.

My stomach growled loudly. I had not eaten anything all day. Because of nerves I had not taken breakfast, but now my stomach was ready to have something in it.

Well, don't mind if I do.

Later that night, As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange, the atmosphere in the mansion shifted.

 A servant hurried into the dining room, clutching a small piece of paper in his hand. With an apologetic bow, he handed it to Nicholas, who scanned the message with a furrowed brow.

"I'm sorry, Sophia," he said, his voice tense. "I have to attend to an urgent matter. I must leave immediately."

I blinked in surprise, my heart sinking at the prospect of being alone on our first night together. "But, Nicholas, we just got here. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

His eyes met mine, filled with an urgency that was impossible to ignore. "I'm afraid not. I promise I'll return as soon as I can." Without another word, he stood up and strode out of the room, the urgency in his steps echoing the tension in the air.

As the door closed behind him, I frowned. 

Abandoned on my own wedding night.

I sighed in frustration although a part of me was grateful that we didn't have to get down to the matters of marriage consummation immediately.

I don't think I could find it in me to do that.

Nicholas is your husband Sophia. 

And he's an attractive man, what more could I want?

Warmth…. That, for a start.

Nicholas seems like a nice guy but there was no warmth in his gaze or smile.

I laughed scornfully, shaking my head. Better I start accepting my own reality.

We had barely spent any time together since our wedding, and now he was leaving me alone in this strange, grand mansion. My curiosity piqued, I wondered what could be so important that it required my new husband's immediate attention.

Well there's no way I would spend my own wedding night wallowing in self-pity, so I decided to explore the mansion further.

After a warm shower in the very luxurious bathroom, I put on a short gown and  I wandered through the hallways, taking in the breathtaking art and craftsmanship that adorned every surface. The mansion was eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the soft rustle of my skirts and the distant murmurs of the staff.

I ventured deeper into the mansion, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the walls. As I turned a corner, I stumbled upon a library, its towering shelves filled with countless leather-bound books. 

Oh la la la 

This place just became more interesting.

I thought with a grin.

I could see myself spending hours here, getting lost in the stories of worlds far beyond my own.

As I continued to explore, I found a beautiful ballroom with a polished wooden floor that seemed to stretch on forever. I imagined the parties and dances that must have taken place here, the laughter and music echoing off the high ceilings.

Despite the beauty of my surroundings, I couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled over me. With each step I took, the feeling of being watched grew stronger. It was as if the walls themselves were hiding secrets, whispering them to me just beyond the edge of my hearing.

My exploration brought me to the kitchen.

Warmth and mouth-watering aromas enveloped me as I entered the room, and I found myself face-to-face with the kind-hearted, elderly cook, Martha. Her gray hair was neatly tied back, and her wrinkled face beamed with pride as she stirred a bubbling pot on the stove. A young maid, Clara, stood nearby, her expression serious and her lips pressed into a thin line.

They were both heads together, whispering something to each other in hushed tones, but stopped immediately when they saw me.

"Ah, Mrs. Grayson," Martha said, her voice filled with warmth. "I hope you're finding the mansion to your liking. If you ever need anything or have any special requests for meals, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"Thank you, Martha," I replied, touched by her genuine concern for my well-being. "The mansion is truly beautiful, and I must say, whatever you're cooking smells absolutely delicious."

Clara was staring at me with an intensity that made me feel slightly uneasy.

"Is everything alright, Clara?" I asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

She hesitated for a moment before replying, her voice crisp and formal. "Yes, Mrs. Grayson. Everything is fine. I'm just attending to my duties."

Though her response was polite, her demeanor remained guarded, and her piercing gaze never left my face. I couldn't help but feel that she, like the mansion itself, was hiding something from me.

"Well, if you ladies need anything, please let me know," I said, attempting to lighten the mood. "I'm here to help as well."

With a polite nod, they both returned to their tasks, leaving me feeling both intrigued and unsettled. 

But with a shrug I returned to my room.

****"""

Later that night, I struggled to sleep. I kept tossing and turning around on the bed, but sleep seems to be very far from me .

The silk sheets felt foreign and cold against my skin, and the vastness of the room only amplified my sense of unease. As I lay there, eyes closed but mind racing, something happened that made my heart almost jump out from my throat.

"Sophia..." A deep male voice called out, soft and distant.

I turned around in the room but I was alone.

I dismissed it as my imagination, a byproduct of my anxiety and the unfamiliar surroundings. However, the voice persisted, growing louder and more insistent.

"Sophia... Sophia..."

The sound seemed to be coming from within the very walls of the mansion itself, as if it was a living, breathing entity with a voice of its own. My heart pounded in my chest, and a cold sweat broke out across my forehead. Where was the voice coming from?

Was the house haunted or what?

Was it just my mind playing tricks on me, or was there something more sinister at work within the mansion?

I gathered my courage and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cold, hardwood floor. The voice continued to call out my name, a haunting chorus echoing through the darkness. I knew that I could not ignore them any longer. I had to face whatever secrets the mansion held, for my own sanity and for the sake of my new life with Nicholas.

With a deep breath, I wrapped a shawl around my shoulders and ventured out into the moonlit hallways, my heart pounding.

What exactly was I walking into?

But as I followed the voice and just when I was about to make a turn into a corner I bumped into Clara who was rushing out, and she was sweating.

"Miss?" She called, frowning, "What are you doing here?"

"Don't you hear the voice?" I asked my eyes darting around, "Can't you?"

A sharp and strange look crossed her face so fast I barely noticed it.

"No. That must be your imagination playing tricks on you. Come on. You have to go back to bed. You need enough rest, I'm sure you will feel better tomorrow."

Although I doubted her, I allowed her to lead me back to my room.