CHAPTER FIVE – THE ATTRACTION
Third Person POV
Elena's eyes swept across her surroundings, her pulse quickening. For a moment, she thought the faint glow in the distance was just a trick of the light, but no, the old man was gone. Completely gone.
Questions flooded her mind, sharp and unrelenting. Had he been real? A fragment of her dream bleeding into reality? Or had her imagination deceived her once again?
She exhaled shakily and lowered herself to Evan's height, her skirts brushing against the grass. "Evan," she said softly, her voice steady but low, "Mama wants to tell you something. But you must promise not to tell anyone, okay?"
Little Evan nodded immediately, his wide eyes filled with innocence. If Mama trusted him with a secret, it meant something important and he would never let her down.
Elena smiled faintly and rubbed his small shoulders. "Mama was talking to an old man with white hair," she said. "Did Evan see him too?"
Evan's expression fell. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't see him. I thought… I thought you were talking to yourself."
Her heart sank. Evan wasn't the kind of child to lie. He was only five, and she and her mother had raised him well. If he hadn't seen the man, then who or what had she been speaking to?
A hot wave spread through her body. Her dress clung uncomfortably, and she longed for the cold air to soothe her skin. But when she looked at Evan dressed so lightly she couldn't risk him catching a chill.
With her back turned toward the wounded stranger, she slipped off her jacket and draped it carefully around her son. The night breeze kissed her exposed shoulders, and the moonlight illuminated the tattoo that stretched elegantly across her back a mark she'd never fully understood.
Behind her, a low groan broke the silence. She turned swiftly. The stranger was still there clutching his right shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers as he reached weakly for the wound.
Her chest tightened. If she hadn't seen him… or if this had truly been just 'a dream', he might have bled to death alone.
Whether it was madness, mercy, or fate, she didn't know. But something deep inside whispered, "Since destiny led you to him, you cannot walk away."
And she didn't.
*****
THREE MONTHS LATER
The sky was gray, heavy with the scent of rain.
Elena stood before her mother's grave, dressed in black, her fingers entwined with Evan's small hand.
Evan's tears streamed silently. He didn't wail or cry out he simply pressed his lips together and stared at the headstone. When Mama told him that Grandma had gone to heaven, that he'd never again hear her morning prayers or taste her warm meals, his world had grown smaller.
When he asked why grandma had died, Mama said nothing.
When he asked how, she told him Grandma had complained of a headache and then she was gone.
He had wanted to ask more, but Mama's silence said enough. She was angry not just at fate, but at life itself. She had just bought a beautiful house, one she had promised would be their new beginning. But Grandma never lived to see it.
Fresh tears welled up. Evan buried his face in Mama's dress, muffling his sobs.
Elena ran her fingers through his soft hair, fighting her own tears. She wanted to collapse beside her mother's grave and scream. But she couldn't. Not here. Not in front of him.
*
Blackwood Estate
Master Alexander Blackwood sat in his study, the rhythmic tap of his fingers echoing against the mahogany desk.
Three months had passed since the night a woman and a child had found him half-dead on that deserted path. And yet, he could not get her out of his mind.
He remembered the way she had turned, the moonlight tracing the lines of her back. The green dress that clung to her every curve. The tattoo strange, beautiful, unforgettable.
But her face… her face remained a mystery.
He remembered her voice, soft and distant, as though whispered through a dream but no matter how hard he tried, her image stayed just beyond reach.
He rose from his chair and walked to the window, exhaling heavily.
"Master?" came a voice from behind.
Alexander turned sharply to find Sebastian standing in the doorway, head bowed respectfully.
"What is it, Sebastian?" he asked hopefully. "Have you found her yet?"
Sebastian hesitated. "Master, we… haven't found her yet. No one even fits the woman's description."
Alexander's jaw tightened. He turned his gaze toward the window, his reflection half-lit by the golden glow of the setting sun.
"She saved my life, Sebastian," he murmured. "And yet I can't even remember her face. It's as if fate is mocking me."
"Perhaps she doesn't wish to be found," Sebastian suggested carefully.
Alexander's lips curved in a humorless smile. "Perhaps. But I will find her."
He rested his hand on the glass, eyes distant. "There's something about her… something that won't let me rest. Her scent, her voice — it lingers as though she branded herself into my very soul."
Sebastian said nothing. He knew the look in his master's eyes that rare mix of hunger and longing. Whoever she was, the woman had done more than save his life. She had captured it.
As the evening light dimmed, Alexander whispered almost to himself,
"Wherever you are, my mysterious savior… I'll find you."