chapter 13 In The House of Stars and Shadows

Alina's POV

Everything for the delivery was finally ready. Baking and studying had helped distract me from him, but not completely. I hadn't felt safe in my own room last night, so I'd ended up sleeping beside Anaya, holding her like a shield against the darkness crawling inside me.

Even now, as I stood checking the last of the packaging, my eyes kept darting around the café—searching. For what? For him? I hated this. Hated how my life had twisted into this silent terror. I wasn't free, not even in my thoughts.

"Alina!" Kevin's voice snapped me back.

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Did we forget something?" he asked, glancing around nervously.

I quickly scanned the boxes. "No… everything's here."

Then his eyes widened. "Shit. Alina—we forgot the assignment. The one due today. It's critical for our grades."

My heart dropped. "Oh god…"

"But we can't skip the delivery," Kevin said, running a hand through his hair.

I nodded slowly. "You go. Finish the assignment. I'll handle the delivery."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I replied with more confidence than I felt. "Once you're done, come straight to the house. We'll go through it together."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Be careful."

I called a cab and set off alone. When we stopped in front of the mansion, a strange chill settled in my chest. It was beautiful—grand, elegant—but something about it made my skin prickle.

As I stepped out of the cab, the feeling struck again.

Eyes.

Watching me. Silent. Unseen.

I wrapped my arms around myself. It's nothing. Just deliver the desserts and leave.

But no matter how much I tried to convince myself… I knew deep down, this wasn't over.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the mansion, balancing the trays as one of the house staff guided me to the backyard. It was stunning—streamers, fairy lights, balloons in pale gold and soft blue. Everything shimmered like a dream, but my heart wouldn't settle.

Focus, Alina. Just set up and leave.

I began arranging the desserts on the table: cupcakes with golden sprinkles, brownies shaped like stars, and the cakesicles—each wrapped in ribbon, handmade with care. This was my world. A world of sugar and stories, where fear couldn't reach me.

A small tug on my dress made me pause. I looked down—and there he was.

A little boy with wide, curious eyes and a smile too bright for this dark place.

"You're so pretty," he said shyly. "Are you a princess?"

I blinked, surprised, then laughed softly. "Not even close, Your Highness. But thank you."

He giggled. "I'm Noah. This is my party."

I crouched down to his level. "Well, Prince Noah, I made all of this just for you."

His eyes sparkled as he looked at the desserts. "Even the stars?"

"Especially the stars," I whispered, handing him a tiny brownie shaped like one. "Because today, you're the brightest one here."

He took a bite, eyes widening in delight. "This is so good. Will you stay for my party?"

I hesitated, heart skipping. "I—Noah, I have to finish setting up. But maybe for a little while."

He grinned, chocolate smudging his cheek. "Okay. But you have to sit next to me when we cut the cake."

I smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "It would be an honor, Prince."

As he ran off, I turned back to the table—only to feel that sensation again.

That cold, sharp awareness crawling up my spine.

I didn't turn around this time. I just kept working.

But in my chest, something whispered:

He's here.

I finished adjusting the cakesicles when I heard tiny footsteps patter behind me. Noah came running back, faster this time, a streak of blue and gold.

"Mom! Mom!" he shouted, nearly tripping as he reached her.

I turned, watching as a woman in a pale peach gown—graceful and glowing—knelt to meet his excitement. Her features were delicate, but her presence felt strong, poised. Like someone who had mastered the art of appearing soft while staying sharp beneath.

"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked with a warm smile.

Noah pointed at me eagerly. "She's a princess, Mommy! And she made all the stars. And the brownies! And she smells like vanilla and books."

I couldn't help but laugh at that last part.

His mother followed his finger, her eyes landing on me—and her smile widened. "Ah. So you must be the artist behind all this."

I wiped my hands and stepped forward politely. "I'm Alina. From Cielo Café. I was asked to do the setup—"

"You did more than set up," she interrupted gently, rising. "You created something magical. I'm Atlana V., Noah's mother." Her tone was elegant, her gaze curious, like she was studying me in layers.

Noah tugged her hand. "Can she stay? Please? Just for cake? I want her to sit next to me."

Atlana looked at him with amused eyes. "Noah…"

"Please, please, please," he begged dramatically, throwing in a puppy-eyed pout that could melt the coldest heart.

She smiled indulgently, then turned back to me. "He's rarely this insistent. You've charmed him—and, frankly, me."

"Oh, I… I really should get back soon," I said quickly, the tension in my spine still whispering warnings.

But Atlana took a step closer, voice gentle. "Just for a while? You've worked hard, and it's his big day. You'd be doing me a favor by saying yes."

Her kindness was disarming. She reminded me of someone—my mother, maybe, in another life. Her aura had that strange maternal warmth.

So I nodded. "Okay. Just for a little while."

She beamed. "Good. Come, walk with me while the staff handles the rest."

We moved toward the shaded seating area while Noah darted off toward the balloon arch.

"So, Alina," Atlana began as we strolled, "you're a student, I assume?"

"Yes. Biomedical sciences at UCLA."

"Impressive." She nodded, genuinely curious. "That must be intense. And you bake on the side?"

I shrugged, smiling softly. "It started as a way to help my family. Now, it's something I love."

She tilted her head. "Family is everything, isn't it?"

Her words touched a tender part of me. "Yes. I have a younger sister. And my grandmother—she raised us after… my parents passed."

Atlana's expression softened. "I'm sorry, dear. That must've been difficult."

I nodded, swallowing. "It still is."

We sat beneath a canopy of silk and gold, and for a few minutes, the tension in my body started to ease. Atlana had that rare ability to make you feel like you belonged—even when you didn't.

But then—something shifted.

I caught it in the corner of my eye.

A silhouette.

By the balcony on the second floor. Still. Watching.

My breath hitched.

Atlana followed my gaze, her voice unchanged. "Something wrong?"

I shook my head too quickly. "No. Just thought I saw…"

Damon's POV

She came.

Of course she did.

I watched her step out of the cab, clutching those pastel boxes like they were armor. Like sugar and flour could keep the monsters at bay.

Foolish, delicate thing.

She didn't belong here, not among the marble and masks and ghosts that stained these walls. And yet, she fit—like a drop of ink in milk, staining everything she touched with something innocent. Something too pure for hands like mine.

But I would touch her anyway.

I stood behind the glass doors of the balcony, hidden in shadow, drinking her in. That uncertain way her eyes darted across the courtyard. The way she hugged herself, sleeves bunched at her wrists, like she could fold into herself and vanish.

She knew. She felt me.

Fear suited her. It bloomed beautifully in her—tight in her spine, soft in her steps. But beneath it, I saw something else, something she couldn't hide from me.

Curiosity.

The pull between dread and desire.

I could've gone down to her right then. Taken her hand, played the charming host. But no, not yet. Not until the tremble in her fingers became a craving.

Let her breathe me in before I speak. Let her wonder if she imagined it.

I watched her move across the lawn, that long braid swaying behind her like a ribbon of ink. She was careful, setting the table like she was arranging offerings for gods she no longer believed in. Her hands were steady, but I saw the tension—shoulders too stiff, eyes too sharp.

Then the boy.

Noah.

She knelt before him like a storybook, and for a second, I almost envied him. That smile she gave him—pure, unguarded. A smile she'd never give me.

But she would.

One day.

She would smile for me like that—with reverence, not revulsion.

I watched as she followed Atlana to the seating area, her eyes still flicking toward shadows. Searching for me, even now.

When she stopped—when she saw me—I didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Her breath hitched, her body stiffening like prey sensing the hunter.

Now it's a show time . I smirked and went down to her.

Alinas pov

"Uncle Damon!" Noah's voice rang out, finger pointed behind me.

At first, I didn't turn. But then I heard the name—Damon.

My breath caught.

I turned sharply.

And there he was.

A tall figure in a slate-gray suit, stepping into the light like he owned it. He was... breathtaking. Sharper than memory. Every inch of him was danger dressed in elegance.

My heart stuttered. I stood quickly, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table.

"Damon…" I whispered.

A small, unbidden smile tugged at my lips—one I didn't understand.

He moved toward me slowly, as if time bent to him. Then extended his hand, smirking.

"So we meet again, little stranger," he said, voice velvet-laced and low.

Stranger? Didn't he remember my name?

I hesitated before placing my hand in his. His warmth swallowed mine.

"Alina," I murmured.

"I know," he replied, eyes glinting with something unreadable.

From beside us, Atlana raised a brow. "You two know each other?"

I nodded. "He… he's saved me. A couple of times."

Atlana blinked, visibly surprised. "Him?"

But before I could explain, someone called her—a tall, poised man nearly Damon's equal in presence. Perhaps her husband. She left with Noah, casting one last glance over her shoulder.

And then—I was alone.

With him.

The air shifted. Gravity twisted. A prickle ran down my spine. My hands rubbed instinctively against my dress. Damp. I was sweating.

"Don't ruin your dress," Damon said, half-gentle, half-commanding.

Just like my mother used to say.

I blinked. "You sound like her," I murmured, surprised by the softness in my voice.

"Who?"

"My mum. She used to scold me for that."

A beat passed in the silence.

I tilted my head. "I didn't expect to see you here,"

"Its my friend's Adrion party".I blinked.

"Adrion is Noah's father," he added smoothly, watching me too closely.

"Oh… I forgot to return your coat," I said suddenly, the memory of that night flashing through me.

"I don't need it." He brushed it off with a shrug. "You can keep it."

"No, it looked expensive. I'll return it. I promise."

He didn't answer. Only smiled faintly—as if humoring a child who didn't know the rules of his game.

"So… where's your family?" I asked, trying to ground myself.

"I… don't have any."

"I thought you were married."

"You thought." That was all he said.

And I didn't know why, but hearing he wasn't married sent a strange wave of relief through me.

He stepped a little closer.

He leaned in slightly, his voice brushing against my ear. "I'm glad you came, Alina."

Something in me tensed—instinctively. Not fear… not entirely. It was that same chill from before. Now dressed in heat.

I glanced away.

He straightened, eyes glinting with something that made my skin prickle.

"I've been meaning to thank you," he said, taking a cupcake from the table, peeling it slowly. "For the… stars."

He bit into it, never breaking eye contact. "Delicious."

"Thankyou, I can assure that everything made with care"

And he waited. Like he had all the time in the world to unnerve me.

His smile deepened, slow and unsettling. "It seems that fate keeps sending you to me."

" Ya" I smiled at him without knowing the deep meaning burried in those words

Damons POV

The way her breath hitched just slightly, the way her gaze flickered around the yard like she was searching for something. Or someone.

And I was here, in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to step into her world. To make her realize that no matter how far she ran, she would never escape the pull of me.

Noah's voice cut through the air, his small hand pointed at her like a beacon. He called me "Uncle Damon," and I couldn't suppress the small smirk that tugged at my lips. I was more than just an uncle to this child, but the boy wasn't wrong. Not entirely.

She turned—sharply, instinctively, like a prey animal sensing the predator. The air between us thickened the moment she saw me. Her breath caught, her pulse jumping erratically beneath the soft skin of her neck.But there was more, there was curiosity. A yearning that she hadn't yet recognized, not even in herself.

I took a slow step toward her, my body moving effortlessly through the crowd, drawing all attention with my presence. The soft murmur of conversation faded away, leaving just the sound of her heartbeat in my ears.

She didn't know yet, but she would. She'd always been mine, whether she understood that truth or not.

"Damon…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her lips parted, as if she were trying to say more, but no words came.

I was close now, standing before her. The delicate curve of her throat, the softness of her lips, the way her eyes darted to the ground when she couldn't quite meet my gaze—these were the things I had memorized, the things I had burned into my mind from the very first moment I'd laid eyes on her.

Her hand hesitated for just a second before it met mine. A slight tremor ran through her as she placed her palm in my own. I squeezed it gently, claiming her even in that simple touch.

"So we meet again, little stranger," I murmured, my voice low, carrying a dark edge. She didn't recognize it yet, but I had already marked her.

Her response was soft, barely a breath—"Alina." Her name. The sound of it on her lips was something I would keep with me forever.

"I know," I said simply, because I did. Everything about her was already etched into my memory.

Atlana's voice pulled me momentarily from my focus. She was asking questions, curiosity painted on her face, but I didn't care. Not yet. I would deal with her later.

My gaze never left Alina's. She was still trying to process everything, but I saw the confusion in her eyes, the way she was piecing things together. She hadn't quite realized it yet, but I was already all over her, inside her mind, twisting and turning, leaving marks that wouldn't fade.

Her lips parted slightly as she mentioned Adrion—Noah's father. I knew exactly where she was going with that. It wasn't a question; it was an attempt to put distance between us, to anchor herself to something she thought was safe. But I wouldn't let her.

"I don't need it," I said, dismissing her concern about the coat with a flick of my hand. "You can keep it." I wasn't about to let her think she could return anything to me.

She spoke again—something about family. I could see the way she was searching for some kind of normalcy in the world I had twisted around her.

"I don't have any," I answered. The words weren't bitter; they were just facts. The silence between us stretched, and I could feel the weight of her question lingering in the air.

She looked away, her eyes briefly avoiding mine, but that only made the heat in my chest burn brighter. She was playing a dangerous game, pretending like I didn't consume every thought she had, pretending like she could keep me at arm's length.

But she couldn't.

Not anymore.

I stepped closer, letting the space between us disappear. Her body tensed instinctively, but I saw it—the way she couldn't quite stop herself from leaning into the tension, from feeling the pull between us.

I didn't need to speak. I didn't need to do anything other than stand there and let her feel my presence, because I knew she would. She would feel me closing in on her, see the way I would never let her go.