The night had grown darker. The old mansion's walls seemed to breathe, as if alive, watching her every move. Belle tossed and turned in her bed, but sleep was nowhere near. Each time she closed her eyes, Thomas's whispers returned—his warmth, his haunting gaze in the mirror—making her restless.
At last, she rose. Her heart pounded, but her steps felt guided by an unseen force. Barefoot, she made her way through the dim corridors until she reached that door—the forbidden room, the one where it all began.
The door creaked open slowly. A chilling breeze wrapped around her body as she entered. In the center stood the same old mirror, veiled in mist, glowing faintly under the flicker of the candlelight.
With trembling fingers, Belle whispered, "Thomas…?"
The mist rippled, swirling into form until Thomas appeared inside the glass. His eyes seemed deeper than before, burning with longing, sorrow, and something far more dangerous.
"Belle…" his voice pulled at her soul,
"I knew you would return. I knew you couldn't stay away."
Her lips quivered. "I… I tried to forget you, but every moment, you're there—haunting me. What is this? Why me?"
His expression softened, filled with a strange mixture of grief and love.
"This is captivity, Belle. For centuries I have been bound within these walls, chained to this mirror. But you…" his voice lowered, trembling with emotion,
"You awakened me."
Fear and desire warred within her. She wanted to run, yet her body refused to move.
From the mirror, his hand emerged—mist-like, ghostly, yet real enough to brush against her skin. A shiver coursed through her veins as his touch caressed her cheek.
Belle shut her eyes. Her heartbeat thundered.
"This… this can't be real. You're just a spirit…"
"Even a spirit can love, Belle," he whispered. "And my love is you."
Her breath caught in her throat. She forced herself to meet his gaze, only to find such fierce intensity there that it made her tremble—yet deep inside, it gave her peace, as though she was no longer alone.
"I… I'm scared of you," she confessed in a broken voice, "but I can't let you go either."
Thomas's lips curved into a bittersweet smile.
"Love is always born between fear and desire. You've already accepted me, Belle… and now, nothing can break this bond."
Her eyes welled with tears. Against her will, her hand rose and pressed against the cold glass. But instead of ice, she felt the faintest warmth—his warmth, as though his fingers truly touched hers.
The world seemed to freeze. For one stolen moment, nothing else existed but them.
Belle's voice was unsteady as she whispered,
"If this is real, then I need to know everything—why you're trapped, and why I feel drawn to you as if I've known you forever."
Thomas's gaze flickered with a strange light, but beneath it lingered heavy dread.
"To know everything is to bear the pain, Belle. Some truths are meant only to break hearts."
She steadied herself, her voice firmer this time.
"Even then… I want to know. I want to hear it from you, no matter how terrifying it is."
For a moment, silence filled the room. Then Thomas lowered his gaze before looking back into her eyes, his voice deep and unshakable.
"Then be ready, Belle… because this love is not just love. It is a curse, a prison. And now—you are a part of it."
Suddenly, a violent gust of cold air swept through the room. The candles extinguished in a single breath, plunging everything into darkness. Belle gasped, feeling an unseen force coil around her, holding her captive.
But amidst the fear, she felt something else too—a strange, dangerous comfort. Thomas was closer than ever before.
✨ End of Chapter 8 ✨