Chapter 10: Whispers in the Dark

Mara didn’t sleep.

She sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, back pressed against the cold door of her room. The villa was silent again, but the silence felt different now—heavy, watchful, like the calm before a storm.

Her mind replayed Damon’s words, each one a shard of ice in her veins.

We have a traitor inside.

No one betrays me and breathes after.

The boy who’d shared mango ice pops with her under the old oak tree was gone. In his place stood a man who spoke of torture and loyalty in the same breath. A man who believed love could be shielded with violence.

A soft tap at the door startled her.

She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

“Mara?” A low voice—Damon’s.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. Had he seen her? Heard her? Did he know she’d been listening?

She stayed silent, pressed against the wood, praying he’d believe she was asleep.

A long pause. Then, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall.

She released a shaky breath, her body trembling. Why was she hiding? She had every right to be afraid. Every right to be angry.

But fear kept her pinned to the floor.

Morning came slowly, gray and muted through the sheer curtains. Mara hadn’t moved until the first hints of dawn painted the room in pale light. She stood stiffly, her body aching from the cold and tension.

She dressed quietly, choosing a simple navy dress—something unassuming, something that wouldn’t draw attention. She had to see Damon. She had to look him in the eye after what she’d heard.

She found him in the dining room, seated at the head of a long mahogany table, a tablet in one hand, a black coffee in the other. He looked up as she entered, his expression unreadable.

“You’re awake early,” he said, his voice calm. Too calm.

“I didn’t sleep much.”

He watched her as she sat across from him. “The villa takes some time getting used to.”

“It’s not the villa,” she said, holding his gaze. “It’s the secrets.”

Something flickered in his eyes—awareness, maybe. A silent acknowledgment. He set the tablet down. “Some secrets keep people alive.”

“And others get them killed.”

The air between them tightened.

A maid entered with a tray of pastries and fruit. Mara recognized her—Lena, one of the newer staff. She moved quietly, eyes down, placing the food between them before retreating without a word.

When she was gone, Mara spoke again, her voice low. “You said this marriage was for my protection.”

“It is.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m in more danger now than I was in my apartment?”

Damon’s jaw tightened. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, his voice dropping. “Because you are. But now, you have me between you and the threat.”

“And what if the threat is you?”

The words hung there, sharp and dangerous.

Damon didn’t flinch. “Then you’re already dead.”

Her breath caught. There was no emotion in his tone—just fact.

He stood abruptly, circling the table until he stood behind her chair. She could feel his presence like a shadow, warm and intimidating.

“You heard me last night,” he said.

She didn’t deny it. “You knew I was there.”

“I always know where you are.”

A chill traced her spine. She turned in her seat to face him. “Who’s the traitor?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“It is when I’m living in the same house as them.”

He placed his hands on the back of her chair, caging her in. “I’m handling it.”

“By torturing them? By making an example?”

His eyes darkened. “This isn’t a game, Mara. This is what it means to be part of my world.”

“I never asked to be part of your world.”

“You signed the contract.”

“To survive! Not to become like you.”

He went still. For a moment, the mask slipped, and she saw something raw flash in his eyes—hurt, maybe. Or regret.

“You think I wanted this?” he whispered, his voice rough. “You think I enjoy being this… thing?”

“Then change it.”

“I can’t.” He straightened, pulling away from her. “The only thing I can do is make sure you never have to.”

He walked toward the door, but paused with his hand on the frame. “Stay inside today. Elias will be with you. Don’t go anywhere alone.”

Then he was gone.

Mara sat there, her breakfast untouched, her chest tight. He hadn’t denied the cruelty. Hadn’t softened the threat. He’d only confirmed what she already knew—the man she’d married was capable of terrible things.

And yet… she’d seen the pain in his eyes. The boy was still in there, buried under layers of violence and duty.

She just didn’t know if that boy would ever see daylight again.

Elias met her in the garden an hour later. The morning sun was weak, filtered through thin clouds. He stood by the rose bushes, his posture rigid, his gaze scanning the tree line.

“Mara,” he greeted, his neutral voice.

“Elias.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Damon said you’d be with me today.”

“He’s… concerned.”

“About the traitor?”

Elias’s eyes cut toward her, sharp and assessing. “You know.”

“I heard.”

He didn’t respond, turning back to the garden. “We should walk. The east path is clear.”

They moved in silence for a while, the only sound the crunch of gravel under their feet and the distant cry of gulls from the cliffs.

“Do you know who it is?” Mara asked quietly.

“No.”

“But you have suspicions.”

“It’s not my place to suspect. It’s my place to protect.”

She stopped, turning to face him. “And if the person you’re supposed to protect is the one in danger from the people inside?”

Elias studied her, his expression unreadable. “Then I protect them from the inside, too.”

There was something in his tone—a loyalty that ran deeper than duty. She is always free around him. But Damon’s warning echoed in her mind. Don’t trust anyone.

“Damon thinks it’s one of three people,” she said, testing him.

“He told you that?”

“Not in so many words.”

Elias nodded slowly. “Be careful, Mara. Trust is a luxury here.”

“Is that why you stay? Out of loyalty?”

“I stay,” he said, his voice low, “because someone has to keep the monsters at bay.”

“Even if the monster is Damon?”

His gaze hardened. “Especially then.”

The words hung between them. Elias wasn’t just protecting her from external threats. He was watching Damon, too.

They continued walking, the path winding toward the cliffs. The ocean spread out before them, vast and untamed. For a moment, Mara let herself imagine what it would be like to be free—to run, to disappear into the world beyond the villa.

But then she remembered the photo Damon had shown her—the man following her. The poison in the wine. The traitor in the house.

There was no escape. Not really.

When they returned to the villa, Isla was waiting in the hall, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

“Mr. Blackwood asked me to give you this,” she said, holding out a small, sealed envelope.

Mara took it. “Thank you, Isla.”

The maid nodded, her eyes avoiding Mara’s before she hurried away.

Mara watched her go, a knot tightening in her stomach. Isla had been kind to her. Warm. But now, every gesture felt like a performance.

She looked down at the envelope in her hand. It was heavy, expensive paper. Damon’s stationery.

She broke the seal and pulled out a single sheet.

Meet me in the library tonight. 10 PM. Come alone.

— D

Her heart thudded. Was this a trap? A test? Or something else?

She folded the note and slipped it into her pocket.

The day passed slowly. Mara wandered the villa, hyper-aware of every sound, every glance. She saw Marco in the kitchen, laughing with one of the guards. She saw Lena dusting the portraits in the hall. She saw Elias speaking quietly with Damon near the study.

Everyone seemed normal. Everyone seemed innocent.

But one of them wasn’t.

That evening, she dressed carefully—a dark, long-sleeved dress, her hair pulled back. She didn’t know what to expect, but she wouldn’t show up afraid.

At five minutes to ten, she stood outside the library door, her hand hovering over the handle.

She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Damon was waiting by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He turned as she entered, his eyes sweeping over her.

“You came,” he said.

“You asked me to.”

He gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

She did, back straight, hands folded in her lap. “What is this about?”

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze intense. “I need to know if I can trust you.”

The words startled her. “You’re the one with secrets, Damon. Not me.”

“Secrets keep you safe.”

“Do they?” She leaned forward. “Or do they just keep you in control?”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. “You’re sharper than you look.”

“I’ve had to be.”

He set his glass down and moved toward her, stopping just in front of her chair. “I’m going to tell you something. And you’re going to listen. And you’re going to tell no one.”

She nodded, her throat dry.

“The traitor isn’t who you think,” he said, his voice low. “It’s not Isla. It’s not Elias. It’s not Marco.”

Her eyes widened. “Then who?”

“I don’t know yet. But I know it’s someone closer than I thought. Someone I never suspected.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because the information they’re leaking… it’s not just patrol routes or security details. It’s personal. Things only someone who knows me well would know.”

Mara’s mind raced. Who knew him well? His inner circle. His most trusted.

“That’s why I brought you here,” he continued. “Why I married you. Not just to protect you, but because you’re the only person who keeps me human Mara.”

She stared at him, the truth settling over her like a weight. He didn’t just want to protect her. He needed an ally. Someone from outside his world. Someone he could trust.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked softly.

His expression softened, the hardness in his eyes giving way to something vulnerable. “Just stay alive. And when the time comes… stand by me.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant.

“I’m not the boy you knew, Mara. But I’m still the man who would burn the world for you.”

She believed him.

And that scared her more than anything.