You Belong Here
Ava’s POV
As we stepped into the grand hall, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of awe. Raphael’s palace was beyond anything I had ever imagined, soaring ceilings, intricate carvings, gold accents, and crystal chandeliers that illuminated the hall with a soft, ethereal glow. The air was thick with the scent of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of jasmine and mandrakes from the gardens outside. Every detail screamed of wealth and power, yet beneath that splendor, I felt a strange chill, like an outsider trespassing in a world I didn’t belong to.
Raphael walked beside me, his hand loosely holding mine. His grip was firm, but there was a coldness to it, a detachment that unsettled me. He hadn’t said much since we arrived, his mood as unreadable as the dark clouds that often blanketed Montana. I stole glances at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but his face was a mask, expressionless, distant.
We passed through the halls, and I could feel the eyes of the maids and servants on me, their whispers like a thousand tiny snow cuts.
"Who is she?"
"A concubine? But she looks too tattered for that..."
"I’ve never seen him bring anyone here before."
Their voices echoed in my mind, each word filled with judgment and disdain. I tried to ignore them, but the whispers wrapped around me, suffocating, filling me with doubt. My steps faltered, and my hand trembled in Raphael’s grip. Could they be right? Could I ever belong in a place like this?
Sensing my hesitation, Raphael glanced down at me. His eyes softened for a brief moment, a flicker of warmth breaking through the icy exterior, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Without a word, he pulled me closer, his arm wrapping around my waist as if to shield me from the prying eyes. But even his proximity couldn’t silence the whispers.
"She’s just another plaything."
"He’ll tire of her soon enough."
"How could someone like her ever be worthy?"
The words stung, each one a reminder of my past, of the rejection and betrayal I had endured. I could feel the old wounds opening up again, the pain of being unwanted, unloved.
"Ava," Raphael’s voice was quiet but firm, pulling me from the chains of my thoughts.
I looked up at him, his eyes now guarded, the warmth I had seen earlier completely gone. How could he see me so differently? How could he see anything worth protecting in someone like me?
"You belong here," he said, his tone cool and detached, as if stating a fact rather than offering comfort. "With me."
His words should have reassured me, but instead, they only deepened my confusion. I wanted to believe him, but the whispers in my mind were relentless, gnawing at the fragile hope I had built.
We reached a massive door, it's dark wood etched with symbols I didn’t recognize. This must be his room. I felt a strange mixture of excitement and fear twist in my stomach. The thought of being alone with him in such a place was both exciting and terrifying.
Raphael turned to me, his face unreadable. "I want to rest," he said, his voice as cold as ever. "You two can go ahead."
I released his hand, assuming he was dismissing me too, but as I began to step back, his voice stopped me. "Where are you going?"
"I thought you wanted privacy... I was going to find my lodging," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the floor, too nervous to meet his gaze.
"I don’t need privacy," he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And you will be sleeping in my bed."
My heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t mean that. Not literally. But the look in his eyes told me he was dead serious. The murmurs from the maids grew louder, filled with envy and spite. I could feel their judgment, their hatred, all directed at me. I wanted to disappear, to hide from their piercing gazes.
Raphael’s voice cut through the whispers like a knife. "What are you all standing around for?" His tone was sharp, commanding, and the maids scattered instantly, fear evident in their eyes.
"To your duties, now!" Caleb, his Beta, barked, sending them running. As they dispersed, Gemma stepped forward, placing herself between Raphael and me.
"My king, she is not fit to be in your presence right now," Gemma said, her voice careful, measured. I looked up, confusion clouding my thoughts. Not fit? What did she mean?
Raphael’s gaze narrowed, a dangerous edge to his expression. "I’ll decide what’s fit and what’s not," he replied, his voice cold, cutting.
Gemma hesitated, then tried to explain. "I meant, my king, that she needs to wash up. She’s traveled far and could use some time to freshen up."
Raphael’s expression softened slightly, his anger subsiding. "I see. You don’t need to worry about that. Send a maid to bring her attire and sandals."
"Yes, my king," Gemma said quickly, bowing her head before hurrying off with Caleb.
Once we were alone, Raphael led me into his room. The room was huge, larger than any I had ever seen, with a bed that looked more like a throne room than a place to sleep. The linens were rich burgundy, the canopy above draped in sheer fabric that seemed to glow in the dim light. The room was beautiful, breathtaking even, but it felt... distant, cold, just like him.
I stood there, feeling small, insignificant in the presence of such grandeur. Raphael moved through the space with ease, his movements confident, but there was an air of aloofness about him, as if this place, this moment, meant nothing to him.
"You seem overwhelmed," he observed, his tone as indifferent as ever.
"It’s just... Uncommon from what I’m used to," I replied quietly, unsure of what else to say. "It’s beautiful, but..."
"But?" he prompted, his gaze fixed on me.
"Surreal," I finished, my voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, as if that answer was sufficient. "You don’t have to be anything but yourself here," he said, his voice softening just a fraction. "That’s all I want."
But the whispers in my mind wouldn’t let go. They dug into me, feeding my insecurities, my fears.
"He’s lying."
"He’ll abandon you."
"He’s using you."
I clasped my fists, trying to push the voices away, to believe in the promise he was offering. But it was hard, so hard to trust after everything I had been through.
"You don’t have to be afraid," Raphael said, stepping closer. He reached out, gently lifting my chin so that I was forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, distant, yet there was something else there, something I couldn’t quite place. "You’re safe here, Ava."
But was I? Could I ever truly be safe in a place like this, with a man like him?
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