I felt confident as I walked down the corridor. The soft hum of the lights and the polished floors under my feet made everything feel calm, yet focused. Sitting in my chair in the cabin, I let out a slow breath. It was exactly 12 o'clock… Lucian Ravenswood would arrive at 12:30.
The telephone rang.
I picked it up.
"Hello?" I said.
"It's me… Cristina," Alexander's voice came through.
"Hey… I miss you already," I replied, smiling.
"I knew you would… You can do this. All the best," Alexander encouraged me.
"Yes, buddy," I said, hanging up the call.
Glancing around the cabin, the neat desk and shelves lined with books gave the room a quiet, serious feeling. The soft light cast gentle shadows, making it feel almost alive in its stillness.
I decided I would always go to the library during that small window between 12 and 12:30, searching silently for the answers to the questions I had buried deep in my mind. I had to be careful—every move had to be unseen, so the demon wouldn't suspect a thing.
With that thought, I quietly made my way to the library, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement.
I moved slowly along the library shelves, my eyes scanning each spine as if it might suddenly reveal the answers I had buried in my mind. I knew Lucian could see everything I did in the library, so I had to appear calm, professional, and casual—never letting my curiosity show too clearly.
I walked toward a different section of the library. The corridor looked older, darker, almost forgotten. Shelves stretched high with heavy, ancient books, many marked with strange symbols and languages I couldn't read. Shadows clung to the corners, and the air felt cooler here, carrying the faint scent of aged paper and dust. I had never visited this section before, and I had never had the time to explore it.
Curiosity pulled me deeper into the dark section. My fingers traced the spines, careful not to make a sound.
I opened three, four books—each with a different title—but every single one was empty. I flipped through the pages, sighing in frustration.
Then, one book caught my eye. Its cover was black, streaked with fiery red markings, almost as if it burned with a life of its own. I pulled it from the shelf and opened it.
Empty. Again. I flipped through all the pages, muttering to myself, "What a garbage… bullshit."
"Leave it, Cristina," I whispered under my breath, shaking my head. I should go… he'll be here soon.
As I reached to close the book, something impossible happened—the page began to glow, forming lines that slowly took shape. And then, unmistakably, it drew my portrait. My eyes widened in disbelief, and my heart skipped a beat.
It seemed the book could create a portrait of anyone whose name I spoke—just like it had done with mine. My mind raced. Could it show Lucian's?
I grabbed the book and ran toward the main area of the library. Glancing at the clock, it was already 12:26. Panic prickled at me. There wasn't much time before he arrived.
I stood on the chair and carefully placed the book on the lower shelf near the wooden table, where I could check it anytime I wanted. I knew I was playing with fire… but at this point, I had nothing to lose.
But now I had to hurry—it was already 12:30. I ran through the corridor toward the cabin, my heart pounding from the run. The gate opened as I reached my chair, and I sank into it, keeping my eyes down.
The gate opened, and Lucian Ravenswood stepped in, his presence sharp and commanding, radiating that unmistakable, killer aura.
"Hello, Cristina," he said, his voice deep and weighted—soft, calm, yet impossible to ignore.
I opened my mouth to reply, my heart hammering so fast that my words came out broken.
"H… h…ello… Lu… cian…" I tried to speak, but my voice broke, faltering under the weight of my racing heart. I couldn't even say his full name.
Lucian stepped in and sat down, his hands resting lightly on the table. Calm, composed, yet radiating a quiet strength, he was impossible to ignore. Every movement, every glance carried weight, the kind that made the room feel smaller, yet demanded respect.
"Breathe, Cristina," he said softly. Then he said, taking his time, "You can call me Lucian."
"Are you nervous?" Lucian Ravenswood asked, his voice calm and steady, carrying that quiet weight only he had.
I nodded, keeping my lips sealed. Words felt impossible in that moment—
Cristina hesitated, voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes… a little."
Lucian's gaze was steady, unreadable, yet his tone carried a strange mix of authority and care.
I will protect you. Don't worry… I mean, you are my employee. You will be safe—just follow the rules. But whatever you do," his voice dropped, low and sharp, "don't look into my eyes."
He leaned slightly closer, and the weight of his gaze pressed down even though she wasn't meeting it.
Cristina froze, her heart thundering in her chest. A shiver ran down her spine. It wasn't just care in his words—it was a warning, a command laced with danger.
We both became busy with work, then in between, I met his gaze, my voice gentle but firm.
"Lucian…?" I said.
Lucian tried to process how I said his name in that soft tone; he forgot what to say and just nodded.
"Can you give me permission to call Alexander? I… I have some doubts about something," I asked.
Lucian Ravenswood's gaze stayed steady.
"You don't need to take my permission, Cristina. You can call him anytime."
I dialed, and soon Alexander's voice came through.
"Hey, Cristina. All well?"
I froze, realizing Lucian was right there. I had to speak carefully—professional, composed, though my voice trembled slightly with nervousness.
"Y… e… s… Alexander… I have some doubts.".
Alexander chuckled lightly.
"Oh? Sir is there—that's why your voice sounds nervous, ha? Don't be nervous, Cristina. Sir isn't bad if you follow the rules, okay?"
I nodded softly, then carefully asked about my doubts and where certain things were kept.
Alexander explained everything clearly, resolving my questions and giving me all the information I needed. At the end, he teased lightly:
"So… you took permission from Sir to call me, huh? Brave of you. I hope you'll get permission to visit me—though I don't think it'll happen. You know the door won't open without his approval."
"I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Bye," I said, ending the call.
Lucian had been watching me the entire time—my tone, my expressions, every subtle movement. He finally spoke, calm and commanding:
"Are you done?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Good. Let's continue work," he said, returning to his quiet authority.
We worked in silence again, the hours passing steadily. As it neared time to leave, Lucian's voice cut through the quiet, low but firm:
"Listen, Cristina," his voice was serious, carrying a warning—almost anger beneath the calm. "It's your first time saying goodbye to me alone… so keep this in mind: whatever happens, never look into my eyes. It's… like magic—it will draw you in. Keep your eyes closed when I say goodbye. Got it?"
I nodded, a shiver running through me.
"Yes."
He stood up, and with a subtle motion, magic money appeared in his hands. He placed it carefully on the table, then turned toward the gate. Holding the gate, he spoke in his calm, commanding tone:
"Goodbye, Cristina."
I didn't know why, but Lucian had been right—it was like magic. My mind wanted to look at him, to meet his gaze, but I couldn't control myself. I forced out,
"Bye, Lucian…"
I tried to close my eyes, but my body refused to obey.
"Close your eyes, Cristina!" Lucian Ravenswood shouted sharply.
I jolted, breaking free from the pull of the magic, and forced my eyes shut. His presence felt like a weight lifting, guiding me as I obeyed. He moved away from the gate, his figure fading from sight.
I took the money, and the moment I did, I too vanished—pulled back into my real world.