The mansion stood silent that night, its walls breathing with secrets Belle was still struggling to uncover. For days she had been restless, unable to sleep without dreaming of that familiar pull—the warmth of invisible arms wrapping around her, the tenderness of lips she could never see, and a voice that melted into her veins.
But now, the dreams were changing.
They were no longer soft illusions. They were too real.
Each night, the touch lingered longer. Each whisper carried her name with aching desperation:
"Belle… mine… forever."
Her heart trembled with confusion. Was this really her imagination, or had she been surrendering to something beyond the human world?
That evening, rain lashed against the windows. Belle sat on her bed, hugging her knees, listening to the storm. Her parents had gone to sleep early, leaving her alone with the suffocating silence of the mansion.
Then came the voice.
Not in her dream—this time, awake.
"Belle… come."
Her body stiffened. Her heart raced, yet her feet moved against her will. She wasn't walking anymore—she was floating, hypnotized by a force she couldn't resist. Step by step, she climbed the creaking staircase to the forbidden attic.
The locked door… opened on its own.
Inside, the air was icy, yet her skin burned with strange heat. The shadows swirled, and then—out of the darkness—he appeared.
Thomas.
Not a shadow. Not a blur. But clearer than ever before. His figure shimmered faintly, as though caught between two worlds. His piercing eyes locked onto hers, filled with a pain so raw, so human, that Belle forgot to breathe.
"Who… are you?" Belle's voice quivered.
Thomas stepped closer, though his feet didn't touch the ground. His hand hovered near her face, trembling, desperate to touch but unable to.
"I am the one who's been with you every night… the one who loves you beyond death itself."
Belle gasped, tears brimming in her eyes. "No… this isn't real. I've been dreaming… I thought…"
"Not dreams," Thomas whispered, his voice breaking. "I've been calling you. Holding you. Claiming you. And you came to me willingly, Belle. Even when you didn't understand."
Her knees weakened as his words sank in. All those nights, all the warmth she felt, the kisses she thought were just her imagination—it was him.
Belle's heart was torn between fear and longing.
"You… you're not alive. You're a ghost."
Thomas's face twisted in pain. "Yes… cursed to remain in this house, unseen. But my soul chose you, Belle. Only you. Every night, I wanted to keep you close, even if it meant stealing moments you thought were dreams."
Tears slid down Belle's cheeks. "Why me?"
"Because…" his voice broke, and his glowing form flickered. "Because you are the only light that can end my darkness. I've loved you before you even knew my name."
The storm outside roared louder, thunder shaking the mansion. Belle reached out instinctively, her hand trembling as it hovered inches from his chest. She wanted to touch him, to feel if he was truly real… but the cold air pushed back.
Her lips parted, whispering:
"Thomas…"
For the first time, his name slipped from her tongue—and in that moment, his entire form shivered, as if her voice gave him strength.
Thomas's eyes softened, filled with longing.
"One day, Belle… I will find a way to cross this barrier. To be a man again. To love you as I should."
Belle's tears fell freely. She didn't know if she should run, scream, or surrender. But her heart had already chosen.
She whispered, voice trembling with forbidden desire:
"Don't leave me tonight."
And Thomas, though trapped between worlds, leaned closer, their lips just a breath apart—his cold breath brushing against her trembling skin. The air burned with a forbidden romance that was no longer hidden in dreams.
💔 The chapter closes with Belle's realization:
It wasn't her imagination.
It was Thomas.
And she had already given him her 📖🖊