Belle's days no longer felt different from one another. But nights… nights always brought something new. The moment the sun set, the mansion seemed to transform. The rooms shifted, the silence thickened, and the air carried a strange weight—as though every wall, every corner of the house was hiding a secret.
That night, Belle was fighting against sleep. She sat near the window, staring out at the sky. The moon hid behind restless clouds, glowing faintly like it, too, was caught in a web of secrets. Belle sighed deeply, but then—a sudden chill crept down her spine.
"Belle…"
The voice.
The same voice that had wrapped itself around her heart for days.
Her head snapped around. The room was empty. Curtains swayed in the breeze.
But she knew… this emptiness was nothing but a lie.
Her gaze fell on the mirror across the room. And her heart nearly stopped.
She wasn't alone.
Behind her reflection stood a shadow. Tall. Regal. And in its faintly glowing eyes burned a sorrowful, magnetic light.
Belle's lips trembled. "Who… are you?"
The answer reverberated through the room, as though the very walls whispered it back to her:
"I am the one who has bound your heart—whether you are awake, or lost in dreams."
Her eyes widened, her body trembling, but inside her chest bloomed a strange calm. A peace that lived between fear and longing.
Suddenly, the air shifted. A rush of wind filled the room, curling around her body like invisible arms. Her hair lifted, her heartbeat thundered.
"You are mine, Belle…"
The whisper was so close, it was as though it bloomed right inside her ear.
Belle squeezed her eyes shut. And then she felt it—a touch against her cheek. Not cold, not ghostly, but warm. Too warm. Too real. A shiver rolled through her, her lips parting with an involuntary sigh.
"This… this must be a dream, right?" she whispered.
Silence.
Then the voice again, deep and heavy:
"This is no dream, Belle. This is the truth you are too afraid to accept."
Her heart raced wildly. She stumbled toward the edge of her bed, her hands trembling, but her chest ached with a yearning she couldn't explain.
And then… the shadow came closer.
This time, Belle felt it completely. A hand—solid, yet unseen—slid into hers, holding it firmly. She trembled, but instead of pulling away, her fingers curled into the grip.
"Who are you?" Belle's voice broke, soft and shaken.
And then came the words that shattered her world:
"I am Thomas… and I have waited centuries for you."
Tears slipped down her cheeks, though they weren't born of fear. It was something else—something that blurred the line between terror and love, something that tied her soul to his.
Her heart resisted, but her soul had already surrendered.
✨ End of Chapter 4 ✨