Bella's POV:
I woke up in a bed that felt impossibly soft, the sheets wrapped around me like a cocoon of warmth and safety. Sunlight spilled through the curtains, brushing across my face until I squinted, half-blinded by the glow. For a moment, I just lay there, breathing in the quiet. Then the memories of last night came rushing back, and my cheeks flared hot with embarrassment.
I pushed myself up, the sheets rustling around me, feeling oddly refreshed, lighter than I'd felt in days. The bed was slightly messy, the deep Grey covers still carrying the faint scent of him. The image of Knox flashed unbidden in my mind, and a shiver of tingling warmth spread through me before I could stop it.
I looked around for any sign of him, but the room was empty, too quiet. A strange chill lingered in the air, one that didn't quite match the warmth of the bed I'd just left. Everything about the place was refined, almost intimidatingly so, the dark wood furniture, the soft lighting, the faint scent of cigar and cedar that clung to the air.
But beneath it all, his scent was everywhere, rich, heavy, unmistakable. His pheromones were so strong they had completely covered mine, wrapping around me like an invisible mark. It felt possessive, intimate, almost alive. My pulse quickened as I realized how my body reacted, warmth pooling in my chest, a flutter beneath my skin. It was as if even in his absence, he was still here, claiming me without a word.
I looked down at myself and froze.
A large, plain white shirt hung loosely from my shoulders, soft fabric brushing my thighs, and nothing beneath it. Heat rushed to my cheeks. At least… he'd had the decency to put a shirt on me. Still, the thought of him doing it made my stomach twist with something I couldn't name.
I slid out of the bed, the cold marble floor nipping at my bare feet. The room was huge, too huge. Every turn led to another corridor, another door. It felt less like a bedroom and more like a maze designed to keep secrets.
One door caught my attention, white, polished, gleaming faintly under the sunlight. I turned the handle and stepped inside.
The sight that greeted me took my breath away.
The bathroom was beautiful, the kind of beauty that whispered luxury, not flaunted it. Everything gleamed in muted tones of black, white, and silver. A massive Jacuzzi pool rested in the far corner, its dark surface faintly steaming, the water so still it mirrored the light spilling from a crystal chandelier overhead. On the opposite side, a freestanding porcelain tub sat beneath a wide frosted window, sunlight diffused into a soft, silvery glow that made the space feel dreamlike.
A black marble divider split the two areas, its veins of white catching the light like frozen lightning. Every detail felt deliberate, the soft scent of sandalwood and cigar smoke lingering in the air, the folded white towels embroidered with initials I didn't recognize, and the faint hum of quiet warmth radiating from the floor beneath my feet.
Even the sink was art. A long, smooth counter of veined stone stretched across the wall, supporting twin basins and a tall mirror framed in dark steel.
I moved toward the sink, expecting emptiness, but paused when I saw it. a pink toothbrush already waiting there. My heart skipped. Is that… for me?
Next to it stood a larger one, sleek, dark blue, heavy. But what caught my eye were the deep grooves and wider bristles, designed to accommodate sharper canines. My stomach dropped.
That wasn't just any alpha's brush. It was made for someone with bigger canines.
Enigma-level.
A chill prickled down my spine, and for a moment, my instincts screamed. But I forced them quiet, shaking my head.
No. Don't overthink it, Bella.
I tried to ignore it, reaching for the pink brush and brushing my teeth mechanically, pretending everything was normal. But even as I did, the air around me seemed to thicken with his scent.
Not the usual warm vanilla I'd grown used to. No, this was different, darker, heavier, like smoke, metal, and gunpowder, with the faintest sweetness buried beneath it. It wrapped around me, confusing and intoxicating, a reminder that the man I thought I knew might not be the same one who lived here.I exited the bathroom after finishing my business and stepped back into the maze. The air in the room carried that same faint chill, wrapping around me like silk. Every step I took echoed softly, swallowed by the sheer size of the place.
As I explored further, my gaze caught on another set of white double sliding doors tucked neatly into the far wall. I tilted my head.
"Let me guess," I muttered under my breath, "black, white, or grey behind this one too?"
Curiosity won, of course. I slid the doors open—and froze.
The space beyond wasn't a closet. It was a world.
A walk-in closet so vast it could have been another room entirely. Rows upon rows of clothing stretched out before me like a perfectly curated gallery, every piece arranged with military precision.
The scent hit me first, clean fabric mixed with faint traces of cigar smoke, his scent, laced through everything like a silent claim.
On one side hung suits. Endless suits. Black, charcoal, navy, and the occasional deep maroon, each pressed to perfection, the kind of tailoring that whispered money and discipline. Beneath them, rows of shoes, all polished to mirrors: leather boots, sleek oxfords, combat boots that looked worn but well-kept, lined up like soldiers waiting for inspection.
To the right, I spotted a wall covered entirely in ties and belts, organized by shade, by texture, by mood. Dark silk, matte leather, faint metallic threads. The arrangement was so perfect it almost unnerved me. Nobody normal kept things this spotless.
Then came the casual wear section, if you could even call it that, crisp shirts, soft sweaters, and coats so fine they could have come straight from a fashion editorial. A few of the hangers were empty, and I couldn't help wondering which ones he'd worn recently.
My eyes trailed upward, catching glints of silver cuff links neatly displayed in glass drawers, beside watches that could probably pay for my tuition twice over. Every detail screamed control, precision… and something else. Something colder.
I stepped farther inside, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps. The deeper I went, the smaller I felt.
It was too perfect. Too still.
And yet, among the rows of order, a few tiny imperfections stood out — a coat left slightly unzipped, a single tie draped over the edge of a drawer, and a faint trace of cigar smoke mixed with gun oil.
I frowned, my lips twisting in disbelief.
This wasn't a closet. It was an arsenal in disguise.
I exhaled slowly, shaking my head. "This is ridiculous," I whispered to myself, running my fingers over one of the sleek suit fabrics. "No one needs this many clothes. It's like—"
A small, helpless laugh escaped me. "—like walking into Barbie's dream closet. But if Barbie were a 6.2 feet panther with a gun fetish."
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that beneath all this order, there was something human, a trace of him that wasn't armor or pretense. Something hidden.
And maybe, just maybe, I was getting too close to finding it.
As if God had heard my thoughts, there was a knock on the vast, dark wooden doors. My heart leapt into my throat, and without thinking, I hurried out of the closet and shut the doors behind me. I didn't know why, but something in me instinctively told me to hide, to retreat.
Moments later, the doors opened quietly, and a young woman stepped in. She had sleek black hair that framed her face with neat bangs, and her eyes held a soft, alert curiosity. She wore a maid uniform, crisp and immaculate, moving with a quiet precision that made her presence almost calming.
I straightened slightly, trying to mask my nerves, but my pulse still raced.She didn't have any animal features, clearly a beta. Expected, I supposed.
"Good morning, Miss,"
she greeted, her voice warm yet precise, carrying an effortless charm that put me slightly at ease.
"Hey…" I replied, a little hesitant, but her friendly demeanor made me feel unexpectedly comfortable.
"Master Nightworth has instructed me to provide you with a change of clothes after your rest,"
she said softly, maintaining a polite formality.
I blinked, caught off guard. So he does care, even if he's not here… A small surge of happiness bubbled inside me, though my suspicion lingered.
"Oh, thank you," I murmured.
She placed the neatly folded clothes on the bed and began to leave. Then, just before she reached the door, she paused, turned gracefully, and added:
"Also, Master requested that you take breakfast. It is imperative that you do. He emphasized it quite firmly. I shall return to escort you after a short while, ma'am."
With a courteous nod, she departed, leaving me alone with the neatly arranged clothes and the lingering weight of Knox's unseen presence.
I watched the maid leave, the door clicking softly behind her. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the neatly folded clothes on the bed. Part of me felt a small warmth, a strange comfort in knowing that Knox had thought of me, even from wherever he was.
He does care…
But another part of me tensed instinctively. He's always two steps ahead. Why now? Why like this? My mind spun with questions, suspicion crawling up my spine like a silent predator.
And then there was the scent.
Cigar smoke and gunpowder lingered faintly in the air, threading through the mansion like a subtle reminder that he was everywhere, even when invisible. My body reacted instantly, a low hum of awareness pulsing through me, the familiar tug at my chest and stomach. His presence, not physical, but undeniable, made my knees feel lighter and my pulse faster at the same time.
I shivered slightly, brushing my fingers over the fabric of the clothes. He's left his mark here too… It wasn't just the scent. It was the way every detail, from the neat folds to the insistence on breakfast, felt deliberate, personal, protective.
I sighed, a mixture of exasperation and fascination. Why does he have to make it so impossible to think clearly?
Even alone, even hidden in this vast, intimidating mansion, I could feel him. And for the first time since that kiss on my porch, I realized just how much I wanted to.