The silence did not ease.
It settled.
Heavy. Pressing into the walls, into the air, into her chest—until it felt like breathing itself took effort.
Trisha stood where she was, fingers curled slightly at her sides, her pulse still uneven from everything that had just happened.
He knows. You found her.
The words echoed in her mind, refusing to settle into something she could understand.
Her.
Not a name.
Not an explanation.
Just… her.
Her gaze shifted slowly between Rowan and Seraphina.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them looked confused.
And that—more than anything—made her chest tighten.
Because this wasn't new to them.
This wasn't unexpected.
It was only new to her.
Something in her snapped.
"Stop it."
Her voice cut through the silence, sharper than she intended.
Both of them looked at her now.
Finally.
"Stop talking like I'm not here," she continued, her breath uneven but her tone steadier now. "Like I'm just something you're discussing."
Rowan didn't move.
Seraphina watched her—calm, observant.
Trisha swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
"No—actually," she said, forcing her voice not to shake, "I want answers."
Her eyes locked onto Rowan's.
"Why me?"
A beat.
No response.
Frustration flared—quick and hot.
"Why did you drag me into all this ?"
"Why did you need to mark me?" she pressed, her hand lifting unconsciously toward her collarbone. "Why me?"
Still nothing.
And that—
that was it.
Her gaze snapped toward Seraphina.
Sharp.
Pointed.
"You had a choice, didn't you?"
The air shifted.
Subtle.
Dangerous.
Trisha didn't look away.
"You still do."
She took a step forward.
"If this is about your world… your rules…" she gestured vaguely between them, her voice tightening, "then why me?"
Her hand lifted—pointing directly at Seraphina.
"You already have a perfectly suitable vampire girlfriend."
The words hung in the air.
Too loud.
Too raw.
Too real.
Trisha didn't stop.
"If you need someone who understands your world, who belongs in it—" her voice dropped slightly, but the edge remained, "then why not her?"
Her gaze snapped back to Rowan's.
"She's like you."
A beat.
Then, quieter—
more cutting:
"So why do you need a human like me ?"
Silence fell.
Thicker this time.
Because now—
the question wasn't just about the mark.
It was about them.
And for a moment—
no one answered.
Then—
Seraphina laughed.
Soft.
Low.
Not amused.
Something sharper beneath it.
Trisha's eyes snapped to her.
Seraphina stepped forward slowly, unhurried, her expression calm—almost indulgent.
" Girlfriend?" she repeated lightly.
Her gaze flickered briefly to Rowan—something unreadable passing between them—before returning to Trisha.
"I kissed him once," she said.
A pause.
Then, almost lazily:
"For the first and only time in a few centuries."
The words landed with quiet precision.
Trisha blinked.
Thrown—just for a second.
Seraphina's lips curved slightly.
"You think that makes me his girlfriend? I did all that to scare you away."
There was no mockery in her tone.
Which somehow made it worse.
Her gaze sharpened—just slightly.
"Ask him," she added.
A beat.
"What we are."
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Because now—
the answer mattered.
Trisha's chest tightened despite herself as her gaze shifted back to Rowan.
Waiting.
Watching.
For once—
he didn't answer immediately.
Then—
he exhaled.
Slow.
Measured.
As if choosing his words carefully.
"Seraphina," he said, his voice calm, "is my best friend."
The tension didn't ease.
It shifted.
"She's my business partner," he continued. "We've built many businesses together."
His gaze flickered briefly toward Seraphina.
Then returned to Trisha.
"She's family," he said finally. "More like an elder sister than anything else."
The words settled into the room.
Not loud.
Not forceful.
But certain.
Final.
Trisha felt something in her chest loosen—
just slightly.
Seraphina tilted her head, studying Rowan for a moment.
Then she smiled faintly.
"An elder sister," she echoed.
Not mocking.
Not agreeing either.
Just… acknowledging.
And then—
for the briefest second—
something in her expression shifted.
Softened.
Almost imperceptibly.
Her gaze moved back to Trisha.
And for a moment—
just a moment—
there was no edge in it.
Only something quieter.
Something older.
"You shouldn't take everything at face value," she said softly.
The gentleness didn't last.
It never did.
She straightened, composure snapping back into place as if it had never slipped.
"But you're asking the wrong questions."
Trisha frowned slightly.
"Then what's the right one?"
Seraphina's gaze dropped briefly—to the mark at her collarbone.
Then back up.
"Not why he chose you," she said.
A pause.
"But why he couldn't choose anyone else other than you."
The words lingered.
Unsettling.
Before Trisha could respond—
Rowan spoke.
"This isn't a discussion we're continuing like this."
His tone wasn't harsh.
But it was decisive.
The shift in authority was immediate.
Seraphina didn't argue.
Trisha, however—
crossed her arms.
"So what now?" she asked. "I just stay here and pretend all of this makes sense?"
"No," Rowan said. "You stay here because it's the only place you're safe."
Her jaw tightened.
"I'm not a prisoner."
"You're not," he replied calmly.
"It sounds exactly like that."
Before he could answer—
Seraphina spoke.
"The mansion has rules."
Trisha looked at her.
"Of course it does."
Seraphina ignored the sarcasm.
"You don't wander where you're not meant to," she continued. "There are areas you don't enter. Doors you don't open."
Trisha's brows pulled together.
"And if I do?"
A faint smile touched Seraphina's lips.
"Then you learn why the rule exists."
Not a threat.
Worse.
A fact.
"There are protections in place," Rowan added. "Wards. Boundaries. They're there for a reason."
"To keep me in?" Trisha asked.
"To keep everything else out."
That—
that made her pause.
Just for a second.
Before she could respond, Rowan stepped closer.
"Come," he said. "I'll show you your room."
It wasn't a question.
But it wasn't forceful either.
Just… expected.
Trisha hesitated.
Then followed.
*****
The corridors stretched endlessly.
Dimly lit, lined with doors that all looked the same.
The mansion felt different at night.
Quieter.
Watching.
Waiting.
Trisha walked beside Rowan, her arms wrapped loosely around herself, her thoughts still tangled and restless.
After a few moments—
she spoke.
Quietly.
"I shouldn't have said that."
Rowan glanced at her.
"That she's your girlfriend," Trisha clarified, her gaze fixed ahead. "I didn't know. I just—"
She exhaled.
Frustrated with herself now.
"It came out wrong."
A pause.
Then, softer:
"I'm sorry."
They stopped outside a door.
Rowan turned to face her fully.
For a moment—
he didn't speak.
Just looked at her.
And something in his expression shifted.
Subtle.
Warmer.
"It's alright," he said.
Trisha frowned slightly.
"It didn't sound alright."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"It was honest."
Her cheeks warmed slightly.
"That doesn't make it better."
"No," he agreed quietly. "But it makes it real. You were just little jealous my Love."
She huffed softly, shaking her head.
"I wasn't jealous."
The words came out too quickly.
Too defensive.
Rowan's smile deepened just slightly.
"Of course not."
Trisha narrowed her eyes.
"I wasn't."
He stepped closer.
Just enough to make her breath catch slightly.
"You look cute when you are, though."
Her heart skipped.
Just once.
Hard.
"I said I wasn't—"
"My love."
The words stopped her.
Completely.
Her breath caught.
Her thoughts stilled.
For a moment—
everything else faded.
The mansion.
The danger.
The questions.
All of it.
Just—
that.
Her pulse quickened.
"Don't call me that," she said, but there was no real strength behind it.
Rowan's gaze didn't waver.
"Why?" he asked softly.
Because it felt too real.
Because it felt like something she didn't understand.
Because it did something to her chest that she couldn't explain.
She didn't say any of that.
Instead, she looked away.
"It's… too much."
Silence stretched between them.
Not heavy this time.
Just… close.
Rowan reached for the door behind her, opening it slowly.
"Get some rest," he said.
She hesitated in the doorway.
Then looked back at him.
There were still a hundred questions sitting on her tongue.
A hundred things she didn't understand.
But right now—
none of them came out.
Instead, she nodded.
Stepping inside.
The door closed softly behind her.
And for the first time since everything began—
Trisha was alone.
But even then—
she could still feel it.
That pull.
That connection.
Like something unseen had already wrapped itself around her.
And wasn't letting go.