5 : Answers

Evelyn

Wife? What was he talking about now?

My mind spiraled. What kind of drug had he taken to say something like that? Was he insane?

“Wait… what?” I blinked rapidly, staring at him in disbelief.

Raphael took a step back, his intense gaze locking onto mine, flames of something ancient and unyielding burning in his eyes. He smiled, and the world seemed to slow.

“I know you don’t understand yet, but I speak the truth. How do you explain that?” His hand lifted, fingertips brushing lightly against my cheek. Goosebumps erupted along my skin as an electric shiver traveled through me. My eyes closed without warning, my body moving toward him like a magnet, drawn by some force I couldn’t resist.

“Yeah… that’s it, little one,” he murmured, a low purr vibrating through his chest, as if he were a cat basking in attention.

My eyes snapped open. Confusion clawed through me, and I shoved him away with more force than I realized. He staggered slightly, unprepared for the sudden resistance, his expression caught between surprise and intrigue.

I inhaled sharply, suddenly aware that I had been holding my breath. The need for air was urgent—but impossible to satisfy in his presence, in this haunted, suffocating house, under his unwavering control. Maybe not impossible—I could walk away—but my mind was muddled, trapped in a haze of fear and curiosity.

“I need… I need to be alone. Please.” My voice shook, knowing it was foolish to ask such a thing from a man who clearly had no intention of letting me go. But I was unbalanced, and the thought terrified me.

I needed answers: How could he withstand my touch? Why was I drawn to him?

For a long moment, he simply stared.

Then, a faint smile curved his lips. “Of course. As you wish. You can go into the garden. There’s a place to think.” Without waiting for a reply, he led the way.

The sun had risen by the time we stepped outside. The morning light softened the house’s harsh edges, turning the garden into a hidden world of beauty. Roses, lilies, tulips, lilacs, magnolias, cherry trees—vivid colors and scents overwhelmed me. The garden could have belonged to another universe entirely, a sanctuary hidden behind a house that looked haunted at night.

“Wow…” I whispered, awed.

He smiled at my reaction. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

Even in the sunlight, he was more beautiful than I’d imagined—dangerously so. I tried to watch him subtly from the side, but his eyes found mine. My heart thudded violently, forcing me to look away. I followed the paved path to a fountain in the center of the garden, where a white statue of a winged man sat on stone, gazing skyward.

“I’ll leave you to think,” Raphael said softly behind me. “Fresh air might help. Everything you need is in your room. My office is open if you want answers.” His gaze lingered, intense as ever. I nodded.

With a smile, he disappeared back into the house.

I exhaled, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. I was in a mess—no doubt about it. I had broken into a stranger’s house, a stranger who was clearly dangerous, attractive, and apparently believed I was his wife. A psychotic, terrifyingly handsome man.

I ran my hands through my hair and made my way to the fountain. A small bench invited me to sit.

I needed clarity, a moment to sort through the questions racing in my mind: How could he touch me without dying? Why had he been waiting for me? And what exactly did he mean by calling me his wife?

Later, after a quick shower and dressing in white pants, a red top, and black sneakers—clothes I had no idea how I fit into—I braced myself and walked toward his office. My hand trembled at the door. I knocked three times.

“Come in,” came his low voice.

I swallowed, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. He was seated at his desk, typing on a laptop. The moment his eyes met mine, the world shrank. His gaze skimmed over me with the same intense, magnetic force, making my cheeks burn.

“Come in, love,” he said, smiling.

I closed the door behind me, my heart thumping, and said seriously, “We need to talk.”

He tilted his head, darkly amused. Phoenix—a nickname that suited his angelic, dangerous appearance—leaned back slightly, considering me. “Of course. I’m listening.”

“Not listening,” I corrected, my cheeks heating further. “I need your mouth.”

His laughter, low and throaty, filled the room. “Oh, little one, I didn’t know you were so bold… but I can’t deny you. I’m happy to satisfy you.”

“E-I didn’t mean it! You psycho!” I was red from both embarrassment and anger.

He placed a hand over his heart. “Apologies, that was rude. Now… what did you want to talk about?”

I gathered my thoughts. “Explain last night. Those plants… they were alive. They tried to kill me!”

Raphael’s expression darkened, lips pressed tightly. “It will not happen again. They’ve learned their lesson. You are safe under my protection.”

“What do you mean, ‘under your protection’? I have a home!” I protested.

He leaned forward, voice low and serious. “You trespassed on my property. Others would have called the police. But I… I’ve waited for you. Now that you’re here, you will not leave, not as long as I decide. Understand?”

My heart pounded. “How long have you been waiting for me? That makes no sense!”

He shook his head slowly. “Logic exists, Evelyn. You are my queen, my wife—or if you prefer, my little girl. It matters not. I’ve waited for you, centuries even, and now you are here.”

I sprang to my feet. “I am not your wife! Stop saying that! I’m leaving, and you can’t stop me—you said so yesterday!”

His jaw twitched, but he remained composed, rising slowly. “Of course, you can go. But you won’t be safe beyond these grounds. You can kill accidentally… and I know more about your powers than you do.”

The words hit me like a slap.

I turned sharply, running from his office before tears could betray my fear. I didn’t hear his footsteps behind me. I locked myself in my room, and only when I collapsed onto the bed did I allow myself to cry.