Chapter 5- The veil of confinement

THE SHADOW BRIDEThe next few days slip into each other, a blur of routine and unsettling moments. I should have known this marriage wouldn’t be normal. It’s never been normal, not since the moment I stepped into Camille’s shoes. But it’s not just the family or the house that feels wrong—it’s Elias. Every time he’s near me, it’s like a storm brewing in the distance. He doesn’t speak much, but when he does, his words are clipped, laced with something I can’t place. Guilt? Anger? Maybe both.

I still haven’t asked him about Seth. I know I should, but every time I think about it, my stomach twists. The way Seth looked at me, the strange undertones in his voice—it’s enough to make my skin crawl. But Elias hasn’t mentioned him again. And part of me wants to leave it that way. Whatever world Elias is a part of, whatever he is, I don’t think I want to know.

Yet, the silence between us is suffocating. I can’t stand it much longer.

It’s late afternoon when I find myself in the kitchen, staring at the fridge like it holds the answers to my questions. I pull out a carton of eggs, crack them into a bowl. I should be doing something. I should be trying to get used to the idea of being here, of being married to a man who looks at me like I’m a stranger—no, worse, like I’m a ghost of the woman he was supposed to marry. But all I can think about is the strange tension that’s followed me around ever since I stepped into this house. The weight of something dark, something that doesn’t belong.

The back door creaks open behind me, but I don’t turn. I don’t have to. I know it’s him. The heavy, purposeful steps. The quiet way he moves through the house, like everything around him belongs to him. I’m not sure why that thought bothers me so much. I’ve been around men like him before. Cold. Distant. It’s just who he is. Who they are. I shouldn’t be surprised by it.

“Are you cooking?” Elias’s voice is low, almost surprised. But there’s an edge to it, like he’s trying to figure out why I’m doing something so… normal.

I glance over my shoulder, my grip tightening on the wooden spoon in my hand. “Yeah. I’m hungry. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the concept, but it’s what humans do when they need to survive.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches me, his gaze a little too intense. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I’m not interested in finding out. Not right now.

“I’ll be in the study,” he says finally, as if my cooking has somehow been deemed unworthy of his attention. I don’t mind. I’m used to being invisible to him. I wish I could stay that way. Invisible. Untouched. But life doesn’t work that way, does it?

The sound of his footsteps fades as he moves down the hallway, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. It’s like he’s a shadow in this house—always lurking, always present, but never fully seen. Just enough to make the air feel heavy.

I finish making my eggs in silence, ignoring the emptiness of the house, the ache of being alone in a marriage that isn’t mine. I could leave, I know that. I could walk away. But where would I go? What would I do? I can’t go back to my old life. Not after this.

I sit down at the small table in the kitchen, eating my food slowly. I need to stay calm. I need to think. But every time I close my eyes, I see Elias’s face. His eyes—dark, unreadable—like he’s hiding something from me. I don’t know what, but I feel it. I feel it every time he’s near. Every time I get close enough to touch him, I can feel it simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

I try to push the thought away, but it clings to me like a shadow. I don’t want to be drawn into whatever darkness Elias carries with him, but it’s like I don’t have a choice. He’s pulling me deeper, even without meaning to. Maybe even without knowing it himself.

Hours pass before I find myself standing in the hallway again, drawn toward the study. The door is ajar, just enough for me to peek inside. Elias is sitting at the desk, his back to me. There’s a stack of papers in front of him, but he’s not looking at them. His hands are clasped in front of him, elbows on the desk, and his eyes are closed. His posture is stiff, like he’s waiting for something—or someone.

I hesitate, unsure if I should interrupt. But before I can decide, he speaks.

“You’re still here,” he says, his voice so quiet it almost feels like a confession.

I step into the room, leaning against the doorframe. “Where else would I be?” I reply, trying to sound casual, like I don’t care. But I do. I do care. More than I should.

Elias doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns in his chair, his eyes meeting mine for the first time today. There’s something in his gaze—something raw. I don’t know what it is, but I feel it, like a spark in the air between us. It makes my chest tighten.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he says, his voice hoarse, like it costs him to admit it. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

I don’t know why, but hearing him say that feels like a knife to the chest. I’ve felt it too. I’ve been pushed into this life. Forced into this marriage. But I’m not sure what he wants from me. What he expects me to do.

“Neither did I,” I say, my voice a little softer than I intended. “But here we are.”

Elias’s gaze softens, just for a moment. Then it hardens again. He stands, moving around the desk toward me. There’s a quiet power in his movement, something dangerous but controlled.

“You don’t know what you’ve gotten into,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “None of this is what you think it is. You don’t understand what I am. What I’ve become.”

I swallow, my throat dry. I want to ask him what he means. I want to know why he’s so haunted, so distant. But the words get stuck.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he repeats, his eyes fixed on mine, like he’s searching for something in me. “But now that it’s done… I have to protect you. Even if it kills me.”

His words hit me like a cold wave, leaving me speechless. The weight of them presses down on me, and for the first time since this all began, I’m afraid. Because I don’t know what I’m supposed to be afraid of yet, but I know I should be.

“You don’t have to protect me,” I manage, my voice trembling despite myself. “I’m not your responsibility. I’m just… here.”

Elias’s lips tighten, and he steps closer. His presence is overwhelming, like the air has thickened around him.

“You’re more than that,” he says, his voice low, his eyes never leaving mine. “Whether you want to be or not.”

And then, just as quickly as the moment came, it’s gone. He steps back, the distance between us growing once more, and I’m left standing there, heart pounding, with more questions than answers.

But the one thing I do know now is that I’m trapped. Not just by this marriage. Not just by Elias.

But by whatever he is.