Chapter 30 – The Gnawing Doubt

Celeste woke up with a strange feeling weighing on her heart. Last night, for the first time, Alistair hadn't forced her. He hadn't confined her, hadn't demanded anything, and hadn't made her feel like an object to be owned.

She still didn't understand why that unsettled her so much.

She should feel relieved. This should be what she had always wanted—Alistair keeping his distance, giving her room to breathe. And yet, there was a tightness in her chest that refused to fade.

Celeste sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers clutching the sheets tightly. She tried to ignore the lingering image of Alistair's dark eyes in her mind. His words still echoed in her head.

"I can't lose you."

She bit her lip. Did he truly see her as someone valuable? Or was this just another way to toy with her emotions?

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Come in," she said softly.

A maid entered, placing a breakfast tray on the table. "Master Alistair wishes for you to eat before coming downstairs," the woman said politely.

Celeste stared at the food for a moment. Usually, Alistair would come himself and make sure she ate in front of him. But today, he had only sent a message through the maid?

Something felt off.

Without thinking, Celeste got up and left her room. Her steps were quick as she descended the stairs, searching for him.

She found him in his study, sitting behind his large desk with a serious expression.

When Alistair noticed her presence, his gaze lifted slightly. "You're awake earlier than I expected."

Celeste crossed her arms. "Why are you acting like this?"

Alistair's brows furrowed slightly. "Like what?"

She sighed, feeling frustrated. "Cold. Distant. Like—" She hesitated, unsure how to finish her sentence.

Alistair closed the file in his hands and leaned back in his chair. "I'm only giving you what you wanted, Celeste."

Her heart sank.

She should be happy, shouldn't she? Wasn't this what she had been fighting for all this time? Freedom?

Then why… why did it feel like something was missing?

Celeste lowered her gaze, biting her lip, before finally whispering, "I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then, Alistair rose from his chair. He walked toward her, so close that she could inhale his familiar scent.

His hand lifted, almost touching her face—but he stopped midway, as if hesitating.

"You don't have to know just yet," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "But I'll wait for you to understand."

Celeste stared at him in silence.

For the first time, Alistair wasn't forcing her.

And somehow… that was what made the walls around her heart begin to crack.

Celeste stared at Alistair without blinking. His words hung in the air, creating a strange tension between them.

She should feel relieved, shouldn't she? She should take this chance to truly walk away, to build an even stronger wall between them. But why was there another feeling slowly creeping into her chest?

There was something different in Alistair's gaze today. No arrogance, no smugness like usual. What remained was a look that was almost… weary.

Celeste swallowed hard. "So, you're really going to stop?"

Alistair didn't answer immediately. He studied her for a moment, then slowly gave a small smile. But it wasn't his usual smirk—it was more like the smile of someone who was giving up.

"I will never truly stop wanting you, Celeste," he said, his voice deep and steady. "But I also realize that if I keep pushing you, I might lose you forever."

Celeste fell silent.

That feeling returned—that unsettling sense that she had only ever seen one side of Alistair. That beneath the rough, dominating man who always craved control, there was someone who… was afraid of losing something precious.

Unconsciously, Celeste clenched her fists. "So, what will you do now?"

Alistair leaned back against the desk, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'll give you time. But don't misunderstand," he said, his voice firmer now. "I'm not backing down, Celeste. I'm just waiting. Until you finally realize that you want me too."

Her heart pounded.

This man—he never truly gave up.

She bit her lip, searching for the right words. But before she could speak, Alistair had already stepped closer.

The space between them disappeared, and Celeste could feel his warmth.

This time, his hand lifted without hesitation. His fingertips brushed against her chin, tilting it slightly until their eyes met.

"I know you're starting to soften," he whispered, his voice both gentle and piercing. "And I'll wait until you admit it yourself."

Celeste froze.

Her eyes searched his face for any sign of arrogance, any trace of a game he was playing—but she found none. There was only absolute certainty, as if Alistair knew that sooner or later, she wouldn't be able to deny her own feelings anymore.

His fingers traced lightly along her jawline before he finally let her go.

He took a step back, allowing her to breathe again.

"Go get some rest," he said softly. "I'll be here if you need anything."

Celeste remained rooted in place, her chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths.

She should be angry. She should reject his words more firmly.

But for the first time… she couldn't.

And that terrified her more than anything.