Delilah remained silent for a few moments, watching the rain after the Bathory automobile disappeared down the long path leading to the mansion's exit. The constant sound of droplets falling on stone seemed to envelop the entire place in a strange, almost unreal calm. The thought of having been chosen by such a celebrated family continued to resonate in her mind with an insistence that was difficult to ignore.
Still, she knew well that answers do not come to those who let themselves be ruled by impatience. Being so different from the others, her future could lead anywhere, and from that spot in the garden, the distant murmur of the party still unfolding inside could be heard. The Grand Ballroom was the only thing shining with true intensity that night.
Her reflection suddenly appeared in the door's glass, returning an image that awakened old memories. Looking at herself from head to toe, she understood something simple, almost insignificant, and yet impossible to ignore: she had never worn a dress so beautiful in her entire life. That small difference was enough for her, for once, not to detest her own image.
She sighed deeply, letting out a breath with a mixture of exhaustion and resignation, and finally turned away from the entrance.
The walk toward her room was slow. Her body was spent, and every step seemed heavier than the last. She didn't even want to bother turning on the hallway lights; she simply walked, letting the darkness envelop her as she moved through the mansion's silent corridors.
When she finally arrived in front of her bedroom door, her empty expression changed suddenly. An unexpected movement made her heart race.
Near her neck, a soft breath paralyzed all her senses. Her entire body shuddered, and for an instant, she thought she was going to scream, but the air escaped her lips before she could. She barely managed to stay on her feet.
Then she heard her name.
Her back was pinned against the door, and in that same instant, she recognized that voice. She could never forget its charm, not even if she tried with all her might. She held her breath. And slowly, she turned around.
The scent surrounding that figure was unmistakable, too familiar to confuse with anyone else's. For a few seconds, a warm, almost fragile silence formed between them, one that seemed to suspend time around them.
But that silence broke when Cain took the black coat covering Delilah's shoulders. She could not see his expression in the darkness. She only heard the sound of the fabric as it hit the floor.
Cain had thrown it aside carelessly, as if the garment held no value at all. For someone who respected rules more than any other, treating a Bathory's coat in such a manner was completely irrational.
Before Delilah could react, Cain led her inside the room. She was still confused by what was happening, but it was he who guided her to the bed, and in a way that was difficult to explain, it transmitted a strange sense of calm to her.
The room was cold. Cain noticed. Even so, he moved closer to her. His chest brushed softly against her back while his fingers found the dress's zipper. With a single movement, he slid it down.
Delilah's heart raced.
The fabric fell slowly over her skin, sliding until it was almost completely shed. And yet, she did not resist. Cain's long, delicate fingers traced her back as they finished freeing her from the dress, causing a strange anxiety to ripple through her body.
—I feel uncomfortable... because you look truly beautiful.
Delilah would never have expected to hear those words. Much less in a situation like this. When she felt Cain's hand outlining the skin of her bare shoulder, she made a weak attempt to pull away.
—Telling you something like this may be unexpected... but even if you hate me, Delilah...
By then, her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness. She could see Cain's figure clearly before her. He was too attractive. Denying that she liked him would have been futile.
—Just this once, I want to be near you...
His voice dropped lower, becoming almost a murmur.
—At this distance... it is enough.
Cain leaned toward her again. From that proximity, it was impossible to ignore his lips. The desire that surged in Delilah's chest caused an unexpected pain, deep and difficult to comprehend. Her body obeyed without opposition.
When Cain's hands held her face, the contact of his lips made her tremble. It was something she had desired for a long time without realizing it, and yet it surpassed everything she had imagined.
His lips were cold. But they were soft.
Her breathing quickened immediately as the sensation coursing through her body became impossible to contain. That kiss stifled her chest and shattered the strength she had tried to maintain. The edge of the bed gave way under their weight. Delilah fell onto the soft surface of the sheets, and Cain's body fell beside her.
But things were not so simple.
Accepting that mutual attraction resolved nothing. Memories of his past always tormented him when he tried to get close to a woman, and now, being so close to Delilah, his mind seemed to have gone completely blank. The outcome would be one that neither of them desired.
—I don't want to play with you.
Cain had never fantasized about the idea of Delilah belonging to him. He could not let himself be dragged along simply because his chest felt so heavy. He had left the Grand Ballroom without saying goodbye to the Count. Without apologizing to Eilith. But now it was too late to think about that.
The same had happened when he heard that Delilah had become close to Raguel. He didn't need to verify anything or ask questions. The simple fact that she didn't reject him was enough.
Even now. Being in the same bed by her side was enough.
Cain stroked her face gently before leaning in again. His lips brushed hers once more, but afterward, he remained silent for a long moment. Finally, he closed his eyes. And he whispered near her ear.
—It is alright if you hold me... when I look so pathetic.
He paused briefly before adding, in a lower voice:
—That is the one thing only.
The words felt like ice on Delilah's warm skin. What did that mean? She shouldn't have expected anything. But even so, her chest tightened with an unexpected sadness.
Cain simply fell asleep.
There was no way to know how much time passed from that moment, but Delilah's heart never stopped beating hard. She was exhausted. She wanted to close her eyes too, to let sleep erase the weight of that night. But she couldn't do it. Not while she observed that sleeping face so closely.
Perhaps she should treasure that moment. Because the stronger her connection with him became... the more her fears grew as well.
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