Threads of fate, p.2
Threads of Fate, page 2
Stepping out of the car, she slammed the door and admired her new home. Squealing, she flung her arms up above her head and finally celebrated herself. She had gone way outside of her comfort zone, but she had done it. She had bought the derelict abode she now stood in front of. Spinning around and around on the lawn, she laughed while tears hit her cheeks. If everything went according to plan, she would have it up and running as an event center in about two years. She certainly had enough money from her Father’s trust to more than support herself during that time and pay for any renovations needed.
The sounds of birdsong pulled her attention, and she took in her property. The tree-lined drive stretched out toward the country road. The front of the chateau had a large lawn that ended by the stables she had passed earlier. To the right of the chateau was a forested area and to the left were the gardens.
A warm breeze swirled past her while she stared at the gardens, breathing in the sweet scent. Turning, she opened the car door again and grabbed the keys she’d had the realtor mail to her the week before and pulled her bags out of the trunk. She struggled up the front steps and stopped, sticking the key into the door. A loud click echoed while she turned the key and pushed the door open.
A rush of cold air blew through the doors, and she shivered, stepping through the threshold. To her left was a sitting room with white cloths covering the furniture. To her right was a large library. Her eyes widened, and she dropped her bags at the front of the stairs before running for the library.
The empty bookshelves reached the ceiling, and a metal ladder sat off to the right, slightly off its track. Grinning, she spun in the room and imagined it in all its future glory. All the books and stories she would fill the shelves with. Cozy chairs that would line the walls. Soft lights that would make reading warm and comfortable. The perfect place for not only her future guests but also for herself to retreat to.
Sighing, she walked back to the main foyer and picked up her bags again. A hallway behind the sitting room caught her attention, and she remembered the inspectors telling her about the habitable living quarters located at the back of the house. Finding these quarters at the end of the hall, she set her bags down.
Now standing in a smaller sitting room, she observed her new home. There was a door that led to a small bedroom in the back and to the left of her was a very small kitchen. A dusty couch sat in the middle of the room and beside it a small dining table. Next to the kitchen was a small bathroom—it was literally everything she needed.
She considered settling in for the rest of the day, but it was still afternoon, and she had plenty of time to rest later. Setting her phone and keys on the small dining room table, she turned and headed back to the front door, ready to explore the gardens.
The warm afternoon sun hit her cheeks when she stepped onto the front steps. The summer heat tried to break its way through the trees, but the shade provided a protective layer to the property. Pausing for a moment, she surveyed the lawn. There was a stillness in the air that wasn’t there when she had first arrived. Shivers ran up her arms and she let out a breath. Glancing back into the house, she considered going back inside, but the stillness shifted for a brief moment and a warm wind blew past her towards the gardens.
She had only seen one or two pictures of the gardens online and had been interested in exploring them since signing the final paperwork. Shaking off the odd feeling, she walked down the front steps and followed the wind.
She walked for about 30 minutes before happening upon a tall, ivy-covered, stone wall. For some reason it was warmer there than anywhere else she had passed so far. She cocked her head in confusion. The treetop overhead was thicker there than the rest of the property, so how was it so warm?
She absent-mindedly ran her hand over the thick, overgrown ivy cascading up the wall, when her fingers brushed against something that felt hard, almost like metal.
“What on earth?”
She stared down at the thick ivy and then back at her fingers, thinking she must have imagined the sensation. Curious, she stuck her hand through the overgrown vines and jumped back when her fingers wrapped around a warm, metal handle.
Her eyes widened with wonder. How could she have already found something hidden and secret on her first day there? She reached down to pull out her phone for pictures but scoffed when she realized her dress didn’t have pockets and she had left everything inside.
Her heart beat with anticipation, and she wished there was someone there to witness her discovery. Breathing out, she pushed back the ivy and took a step back to inspect the door. It appeared to be wrought iron, but a bronze color with ivy markings molded into the metal. The overgrowth that had been concealing it before laid contently to the side where she had pushed it, as if welcoming her to inspect the hidden secret.
Smiling, she grabbed the door handle and turned it, but nothing happened. The door gave a bit of movement, as if it wanted to open but couldn’t respond. She pushed her shoulder against the metal and shoved a bit while twisting the handle again.
Again, nothing.
She tried again and again with no results. Even though the door handle moved and the door shifted, she couldn’t get it to open. Disappointment settled in her stomach and she kicked the door out of frustration. The metal groaned at the contact—mocking her.
She had been so hopeful that finding the door was a sign that she was meant to be there. Everything she had given up, all the risks she took to get herself to where she now stood, meant something. She groaned, kicking the door in frustration again.
Finding hidden treasures had been all that she’d imagined leading up to her leaving Boston. She’d spent hours imagining waltzing around her own personal castle, of finding hidden history deep within its walls as she began her journey to renovate it. Now, here she was, staring at a door that had been hidden with time, but she couldn’t even get through it.
Her heartbeat rose, and she gently laid her forehead against the warm metal. The unavoidable spiral of thoughts hit her suddenly. She wasn’t worth an adventure. She wasn’t strong enough to get what she wanted. She was already a failure if she couldn’t even open a door.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she laughed. Her temper built in a steady rise, and she breathed out, trying to calm herself. There was no reason to be annoyed, she could get this, she reminded herself. If she tried, she could get this.
Pulling her forehead away from the metal, she moved her hands up to her mouth and blew warm air on them. She knew it wasn’t going to help with anything, but the movement gave her comfort. She threw her hand out and wrapped her fingers around the handle again. This time, it heated at her touch. Motivated by the warmth, she bore down all her weight, shoving as hard as she could. But again, nothing happened.
Cursing the stupid design and herself for not bringing her keys, she let out a scream of frustration. She believed she had found this damned door for a reason. There had to be a reason why she found her first hidden treasure there on the first day. Wondering that maybe she wasn’t doing this the right way, she took a moment to think.
Those near suffocating thoughts swirled in her mind, and she let out another shaky breath. She couldn’t allow herself to go down the hole she had just clawed herself out of. Her entire life now depended on her being able to gain control of herself.
Warm air circled around her feet while she thought. She took a step back. Maybe all she needed to do was take a running start at it.
“3. 2. 1.” She counted down quietly and ran.
Her shoulder connected with the metal right as her hand twisted the handle. The force of her impact released whatever had sealed the door, and it finally flung open. “YES!” she yelled as she stumbled into the garden, then slammed the side of her face right into someone’s back.
She was livid as both of them almost fell to the ground. Had this person been messing with her? Had they been holding the door closed that whole time? Who the hell did they think they were being on her property? Unable to cool her building rage, she rubbed her cheek.
“What the hell?” she shouted and looked up at who she realized was a tall man standing in front of her. “Why are you in my garden?” she demanded, wanting some kind of explanation for the obvious sick prank he’d been playing.
Taking a step back, he stared down at her with an equal level of rage that quickly turned to intrigue before he replied, “Your garden?”
Rolling her eyes, she scoffed. Who did this guy think he was?
Chapter 2
Roan’s fury all but vanished when he registered the words coming from the woman. That language. He’d responded to her so naturally, despite not having spoken or heard it in close to sixty years.
“Yes, this is my garden,” she snapped.
He didn’t quite understand why she was so upset, but he took another step back, hoping to avoid any of her limbs that may have tried to connect with his face. “No. This is my garden at the back of my private residence. The most important question is, how did you get in here?”
She stared back, as if he had somehow stolen her ability to speak. Curiously, he watched her quietly take in her surroundings. Behind him, the walls of his garden seemed to blend in with the hedges that shrunk to about knee height. Beyond the hedges, his home sat across a large manicured lawn. In the garden itself, they were surrounded by flowers, finally blooming after a long cold that year. He was proud of his garden and didn’t usually share the oasis he had created with many others.
“Oh my god,” she whispered while her cheeks flushed with an embarrassed blush. “Did I just break into your garden? I am so sorry! I’m your new neighbor. I just moved in.” She stuck her hand out as if expecting him to shake it.
Roan wasn’t sure what to think of this woman. He didn’t think he had ever been more confused or interested in someone in his life. Who was she? Where had she come from? He took another step back, observing the garden door that led to the street. Somehow, it had already closed itself and appeared as it had before she came tumbling out of it. He turned his attention back to her and suppressed his appreciation. She was… different.
He first noticed those brown eyes, but now he could see she also had brown hair. As the sun shone above her, hints of red glistened within it. Not a bright, stark red—no, more like highlights of auburn that appeared as though they could have caught fire at any moment. He briefly considered that maybe her fury had fueled the interesting colors.
She was also wearing a kind of outfit he had never seen before. A dark blue dress that was very short with very small straps across the shoulders. The dress clung to every curve on her body. A body he was desperately trying not to stare at. She was soft but also strong, as though she spent regular time training. Her dress stopped halfway up her thighs and despite her being shorter than him, her legs were distractingly long. Trying to control his thoughts, he admired her dress again and chuckled, knowing Lahana would have been enamored by the woman’s outfit.
Her remorseful expression for trespassing turned to annoyance and she crossed her arms. “Am I amusing to you?”
“Why would you ask that?” he replied.
“You just laughed at me.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at—” Snapping back to himself, he remembered who he was and the fact that he had no idea who she was. “It doesn’t matter what I was laughing at.”
Her annoyance turned back to fury as she stepped back, while her eyes slowly surveyed him up and down. He would have usually considered himself a rather confident man, but in that moment, he had never felt so aware of his skin and someone’s eyes on him.
“I’m assuming you found something amusing with what I’m wearing. You’re one to talk Mister, wearing clothes that are at least 300 years out of date. What are you? A cosplayer or something?”
Cosplayer? He wondered if the woman was truly mad. He had never heard of whatever it was she was referring to, and he was starting to lose his patience.
“Listen,” he said while mimicking her arm crossing. “As I said, this is my garden, and you have trespassed. I suggest we get you escorted out and back into the city before I call someone to get you and I promise they will not be as understanding as I’ve been.”
“City? The city is 40 minutes away. Let me just go back through the door, and I’ll make sure I remember that I’ve got a grouchy neighbor behind it and that he doesn’t like visitors.”
“The city is behind that door,” he replied bluntly.
His tone irritated her more, and she turned to walk back through the door she had just come through. She tugged on the handle, but the door didn't respond. Roan had expected this, but still found himself confused and shocked that she didn’t seem to be able to go back the way she came. Sighing, he walked up behind her.
“You cannot just open this door like it’s any normal door. It’s heavily warded. I’m not even sure how you got through it in the first place.” The handle and the wards responded to his touch as he grabbed it and turned.
Her brow furrowed when her eyes met his.
“Warded? Sir, I’m very sorry if I interrupted some kind of role-playing event, but it appears to just be you and me here. You can drop the act.”
The only response he could give was a shrug, once again baffled by what she was talking about.
What an intriguing woman.
If she hadn’t just broken through these wards, he would have been tempted to get to know her some more. But if Jes found out he didn’t properly question her, he would be livid, and Roan didn’t have the energy to deal with his moods. Pushing the door open, he gestured back toward the city street, but she appeared to be frozen in place.
“Are you okay?”
The color in her face had drained and she appeared as though she was going to be sick or possibly faint.
Pointing her finger, she managed to whisper, “That kid has fucking horns.”
His head snapped back to the city street where he found one of the children he’d heard playing on the other side of the wall earlier staring at the door. He’d forgotten the children were there and briefly worried that he had likely scared them by opening the hidden door.
Turning back to the woman, he realized she’d whispered her shock, and curse, in yet another language he was familiar with. He wanted to question her knowledge of the languages, specifically the first one. He wanted to tease her choice of words. But he most certainly wanted to know why she was shocked by the child’s physical appearance.
Pulling himself from his thoughts, he opened his mouth to question her, but his eyes widened when he found her knees going out from under her.
“Fates!” he yelled as he lunged forward, catching her before she hit the ground. Her body went limp in his arms and he looked down at her, perplexed by what would have caused her to faint, when Jes came running across the lawn. Roan’s eyes rolled. He already knew he was about to receive an earful.
“Roan! Someone got through the garden door! What are you doing out here?” Jes projected his voice through the wind, not yet able to see the woman in Roan’s arms as he sprinted toward him.
Roan glanced at him then back at the woman, letting out an annoyed breath. “Yes, Jes, I’m very aware someone got through the garden door," he muttered.
Jes arrived a moment later, and his mouth hung open in surprise. They made eye contact as he breathlessly asked, “Who is she?”
Chapter 3
Ineed to get up. I can’t miss my plane.
Orah turned over; she didn’t want to get up yet, but her new life depended on it. She couldn’t leave the chateau to sit empty.
Her eyes flew open, and she sat up. “The chateau!” Her heart raced while she took in her surroundings.
She was not late for her flight, and she was most definitely not in her chateau. No, she was on a deep green, velvet couch, in what appeared to be a sitting room of some kind of stately home. Her eyes shifted to the rest of the room, and she jumped when they made contact with the strange man she ran into earlier. The man who had been in her garden, that apparently wasn’t her garden.
Taking him in, she stared at the costume he wore. The flowy white shirt did little to conceal the muscled chest underneath. His pants were what she believed to be called breeches, and amusingly, he was wearing colors that coordinated with what she was wearing. A dark blue top, his breeches a complimenting brown, and long brown boots ending just below his knee cap.
Moving her eyes up his body, she was shocked she somehow hadn’t noticed how attractive he was through her anger and annoyance outside. His hair was a light brown with highlights of blond. The sun from the window behind him seemed to catch the highlights as if they were a crown of light above his head. His eyes were what she could only describe as a silvery-blue. Almost ice blue surrounded with rings of silver. Reminding her of the sky when flying through the clouds. The color almost alarmingly contrasted against his darkened skin and freckles stretched across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
He cleared his throat and she realized she was taking an inappropriately long time admiring his features. She straightened herself. “I fainted.”
His lips upturned to a slight smile. “Yes, you did. Are you alright?”
“Yes, I feel fine. I'm a bit disoriented, but I’m fine.” She shifted to get herself off the couch when he jumped up to assist her. She put her hand up in response. “I can stand up by myself.”
Sitting back down, he allowed her to stand. The room they were in was grand with ceilings so high she had to crane her neck to admire the golden portrait towering above them. The green couch she sat on was the simplest item in the room otherwise filled with gold framed paintings and lamps. Usually, she would have felt uncomfortable in a room filled with such displays of wealth, but this room was comfortable and, to her own surprise, cozy. She couldn’t help but imagine how her own sitting room in the chateau would look someday and whether or not she could mimic the warmth and safety of this stranger's home.
