Celeste didn't even have time to scream.
In a blur of movement, his hand shot out, seizing her throat. The world tilted around her, before her back slammed against the wall. His grip was iron. Cold and merciless. She clawed at his wrist, her fingers scraping against skin that felt too hard. The veins in his arm stood out like dark cords, his strength felt unnatural.
Then, he sniffed.
Once. Twice. And then a third time. His head jerked slightly as he sniffed her in, his nose grazing her neck, her hair, the collar of her dress, like he was hunting a scent only he could detect. Each inhale came sharper and rougher. A low, feral noise slipped from his throat, the kind that didn't belong in a human mouth.
Celeste froze, too terrified to move. His grip on her throat tightened, as though some creature inside him had taken over completely.
He didn't see her… he wasn't even here. Whatever had opened its eyes inside him, wasn't sane.
"Master Aiden—please!"
The servants screamed, scared for Celeste who was in their master's grip. They rushed towards them, trying to pull him back, but he didn't budge.
"Let her go!" Mrs. Clarke's voice cut through the chaos. "Aiden!"
But the name barely seemed to reach him. He was gone, his mind, soul and reason, swallowed by whatever madness had taken hold.
Mrs. Clarke's voice rose again. "Aiden! Stop—please, you'll kill her!"
Someone grabbed his shoulder, a brave attempt and he snarled. A raw sound tore from his throat, he turned on the intruder with such force that the servant stumbled back, blood smearing their sleeve where his nails had grazed them.
"Master Aiden please don't hurt her!" Mrs. Clarke's voice broke, desperation tearing through her formal mask. "She's your wife!"
The words hung in the air.
For a moment, nothing changed. The only sound was Aiden's ragged breathing. His fingers remained wrapped around Celeste's neck. Then slowly, something in him calmed. The growl died and his grip loosened slightly. He blinked, the madness in his eyes fading into confusion. He turned toward the sound of Clarke's voice.
"...Wife?"
Mrs. Clarke nodded quickly, seizing the opening. "Yes Master Aiden. Your wife."
Aiden's brows drew together, then his gaze drifted back to the girl in his grasp.
"Wife…" he repeated, slower this time, trying the word as though it were something foreign. "My wife..."
The words slowly sank in, then his expression changed.
"Mine?" He asked quietly.
Mrs. Clarke took a step forward. "Yes," she said carefully. "Yours."
Aiden's eyes lingered on Celeste's face for what felt like forever, searching for something neither of them could name. Then, without warning, he laughed. It started low, a sound almost too soft to register. But it grew quickly, rising, breaking and spilling out of him in uneven bursts. A jagged, unsteady laugh that didn't sound like amusement at all.
Mrs Clarke and the servants froze for a moment, then they forced a nervous laugh to follow his. A sound that didn't belong to joy but fear.
They laughed because they had to. Because they'd learned what happened when they didn't. It started off strange, but soon it rolled together into something familiar, almost ritualistic. They'd done this too many times.
Celeste stared wordlessly. It felt as though the whole house had gone mad. Her gaze darted from one face to another, searching for someone sane enough to see how wrong it all was, but there was no one.
Aiden's laughter died first, fading into rough breaths, followed by the servants. For a moment, no one dared move. Then he released his grip on her throat.
Celeste fell to the ground, her weak knees hitting the marble hard. She gasped for air, each breath burning her throat. When she finally looked up, he still stood hovering above her, that same fractured smile on his face.
Clarke spoke first. "Get her out," she hissed, barely above a whisper. "Now before he…"
She didn't finish. She didn't have to.
Two servants rushed forward, moving like people trained not to startle a sleeping beast. Their hands trembled as they lifted Celeste from the floor. As they pulled her away, she risked one last glance over her shoulder.
He still hadn't moved.
Aiden stood in the same spot, head slightly tilted, eyes locked on her. The laughter was gone now, but the smile remained.