Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 56: Strange happenings

Chapter 56: Strange happenings

TERESA’S P.O.V.

Months had drifted by since I first set foot in Adrian’s mansion, a place so grand it felt like stepping into another realm. The mansion sprawled endlessly, every inch of it exuding wealth, with fancy carvings on the ceilings, polished marble floors that stretched like sheets of ice, and walls lined with portraits whose painted eyes seemed to follow you down the endless halls. Despite its beauty, though, it was a cold beauty, one that left a lingering chill. The staff and residents moved like shadows, drifting from place to place with practiced elegance but barely a hint of warmth. They were polite, offering nods or stiff greetings in passing, but no one seemed truly friendly.

I tried to adjust, to find some sense of familiarity in this strange, isolated world. One morning in the gardens, a soft haze clinging to the early air, I spotted Harry—a tall, stoic figure who always hovered close to me when Adrian wasn’t around, and I had a feeling Adrian put him up to it. There was something in the way he held himself, quiet but watchful, that reminded me of Lucian’s own bodyguards: dutiful and distant, like they existed only to keep me in my place. I took a deep breath, telling myself that maybe all I needed was to break the ice. Surely, there was a way to get through to him.

"Good morning, Harry," I ventured, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear and mustering a smile. "It’s... um, it’s lovely here. Do you enjoy living in such a magical place?"

He barely glanced at me, his dark gaze sliding over me in a quick, dismissive flicker. Silence stretched between us as he remained stiff, unmoved, like a statue carved from stone. I had a feeling he didn’t like me. I felt the urge to fidget under his scrutiny, but I forced myself to stay steady, to try again.

"You don’t have to just stand there, you know," I said, adding a light laugh to ease the tension. "I don’t bite."

His gaze sharpened, cutting through my attempt at humor with a cold, piercing intensity. He leaned closer, his voice low and chillingly calm. "Ms. Teresa," he said, his tone formal yet taut with an underlying threat, "if you value your life, don’t speak to the others. Stay close to Mr. Adrian or me. Always."

My stomach dropped, and for a moment, I was caught off guard, staring up at him as the weight of his words settled over me like a lead blanket. "Um... excuse me?" My voice came out faint, barely more than a whisper.

But Harry only gave a single, curt nod, as if his cryptic warning explained everything. Then he turned and strode away but didn’t go to far, leaving me standing alone with a swirl of questions and a deepening sense of unease twisting in my chest.

Stick to him or Adrian if I valued my life? The thought echoed in my mind, growing louder, a warning and a mystery all at once. What was going on in this mansion, and what kind of dangers lurked behind its walls?

*******

When I was with Adrian, though, everything felt different—almost surreal. He was attentive in a way that was beyond ordinary kindness, like he somehow knew my needs before I did. Every night, just as the fatigue would settle in and my back would start to ache, he’d appear, his gaze softening as if he could see the tension I carried. Without a word, he would take my hand, leading me to sit or lie down, and then he’d settle beside me, rolling up his sleeves and getting to work as if it were his sole purpose to ease my discomfort.

His touch was remarkable, a blend of strength and gentleness that sent waves of relief through my tired muscles. His hands would move over my back or swollen ankles in slow, deliberate circles, applying just the right amount of pressure, his fingers tracing paths that seemed to erase every trace of tension. It felt as though each touch held a quiet devotion, a calm reverence that made my heart ache with gratitude and something unnameable.

One evening, with the room lit only by the soft glow of a nearby lamp, I let my guard slip. As I lay back with him seated beside me, his hand gently massaging my sore feet, I turned to him, the question spilling from my lips before I could hold it back. "Adrian... what do even like about me? I don’t think I’m worth all the length you go for me."

He paused, his hand stilling for a moment as he leaned over, his purple eyes meeting mine with a warmth that seemed to reach past any walls I tried to keep up. There was a quiet intensity there, something steady and unwavering. "Teresa, never look down on yourself again." he murmured, his voice like a low, comforting rumble. " I love everything there is about you and that why I go through all the trouble. If a king can’t treat his queen like a princess, then he doesn’t deserve her."

A surprised laugh escaped me, a warmth flooding my cheeks. "A princess, huh?" I teased, though my voice was softer, touched.

"Only the finest," he replied with that smooth, effortless smile that always seemed to carry a hint of mystery. His hand found mine, and with the gentlest care, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my fingers. "Though ’princess’ doesn’t do you justice."

That was Adrian—constantly saying the right things, constantly treating me with a kind of care that felt like I was precious to him in a way I couldn’t quite grasp. And sometimes, in moments like these, when he looked at me with such undeniable tenderness, I wondered if maybe—just maybe—I could let myself fall for him, let myself feel something deeper. But no matter how much warmth Adrian’s presence stirred in me, Lucian was always there, lingering in my mind like a shadow I couldn’t shake, holding a piece of my heart I couldn’t seem to reclaim.

*******

The whole town by now seemed to buzz with rumors about Adrian and me, spinning our relationship into some kind of grand romance. People whispered as I passed by, their glances lingering, smiles flickering knowingly. But it wasn’t all admiration. Susanne, someone who’d once claimed to be my friend, abruptly cut off contact with me. I heard through Tom that she was furious, feeling as though I’d "stolen" Adrian from her. It hurt because Susanne had loved him long before I entered his life, but my relationship with Adrian wasn’t something I’d intentionally pursued. I wasn’t even romantically involved with him but people around town already gossiped about how Adrian was my boyfriend and soon-to-be husband. It was ridiculous really.

And then there were the unsettling things I noticed in Adrian’s house—small details that hinted at something beneath the surface, something that felt... wrong.

One night, I couldn’t seem to find sleep so I went in search of Adrian to beg for a massage but when I finally saw him, he was standing in the dark, his eyes reflecting an unnatural glint as he stared off into the distance. He was still, almost like a statue, and it struck me as weird. Another time, one of the housekeepers brushed past me with such swiftness that he seemed to vanish the moment he’d appeared. When I asked Adrian about these strange moments, he only chuckled, brushing it all off.

"It’s just your mind playing tricks, Teresa. Pregnancy does that sometimes," he’d say with a calmness that somehow left me more unsettled.

I tried to ignore it, convincing myself that perhaps I was just overthinking or that the pregnancy was indeed making me overly sensitive. But the mansion had its way of creeping under my skin, and odd things continued to happen. The people around me moved in near silence, almost as if they were gliding, their footsteps unheard on the grand floors. Sometimes, shadows shifted in unnatural ways, and I would catch glimpses of eyes gleaming in the dark before they disappeared. I kept trying to shake it off, to reason it away, telling myself it was just paranoia.

Until tonight night when I saw something I couldn’t ignore.

I had woken up thirsty and decided to sneak down to the kitchen. As I walked past one of the open doors, I froze, catching a glimpse of Adrian in the dim light. He was... his teeth were sunk into a woman as though he was feeding from her, his face buried in the woman’s neck, his eyes shut in an intense focus. The woman looked limp, nearly lifeless. I took a step back, my heart pounding, but I must have made a noise because his eyes snapped open, and he looked up, his mouth smeared with blood.

"Teresa," he whispered, shock etched across his face.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. My hands flew instinctively to my belly, and a jolt of pain shot through me. "You... you’re... not..." I stammered, barely able to form words.

Adrian stepped toward me, his face filling with worry. His voice came out low and soothing, trying to reach me through my terror. "Stay calm, my love. I can explain..."

But his words were a blur. My heart raced, and a wave of pain rippled through my stomach, a sharp, twisting agony that blocked out everything else. I realized then, with a wave of dread, that I was going into labor.

"Adrian," I gasped, vision blurring as the pain intensified, "the baby..."

I saw him move toward me, his face flooded with an unfamiliar fear, and then everything started to fade, his worried expression the last thing I saw. As darkness claimed me, only one word echoed in my mind:

Adrian wasn’t human.