Chapter 15
“EL” Patricia called gently, her arms already extended before I even registered her voice. The soft warmth of her voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I found myself walking toward her without hesitation.
She pulled me into her embrace, tucking my head against her shoulder, and I let myself breathe her in–her scent familiar, maternal. Something unrecognizable stirred in my chest.
Safe. That’s what it felt like. I am glad she’s here.
“You’re alright,” Louis murmured beside me, resting a firm but comforting hand on my back. “We were worried.”
“I’m okay,” I replied, though my voice was just above a whisper. “Monica?”
“She’s resting. Healer Kurt is with her now. Still sore, but stable,” Patricia said gently. “She’s been asking about you.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “I didn’t really do anything… the warriors were the ones who saved her,” I murmured, guilt and shame tightening in my throat. “I just… I don’t know. I was just there.”
Patricia and Louis both shook their heads.
“If you hadn’t come, Monica wouldn’t be back this quickly,” Patricia said firmly. “You did more than you think.”
Their unwavering kindness did something to me. My eyes burned, and before I could stop it, a tear rolled down my cheek. Then another.
Patricia blinked, surprised, and Louis’s brows furrowed in concern.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, quickly wiping my tears away in embarrassment. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
But I did know. It was because, for once, I wasn’t invisible.
For once, someone looked at me like I mattered.
And that… that broke something open inside of me.
Audrey was still speaking with Beta Alfonso and the warriors when I followed Patricia and Louis into the mansion. The scent hit me the moment we stepped inside–rosemary and lemon polish, just like last time.
It was warm. Comforting.
I never thought the scent of an old Alpha’s estate would feel like this. Calming.
I didn’t ask if Alpha Francesco was here. I didn’t want to know.
But as we passed one of the side halls, I caught sight of something that made me stop in my tracks.
My breath hitched.
That was my painting.
The one of Anastasia Lycaon–the woman whose portrait I had restored from memory, from that faint image in the museum, the one that had pulled something raw and aching from my heart.
It had been framed. Framed and displayed with care.
The easel stood in the corner of the main hall, surrounded by soft golden lighting. Fresh white roses sat in a tall crystal vase nearby, and flickering candles cast a reverent glow around the portrait.
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Chapter 15
“She was beautiful,” I whispered, almost to myself.
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“She was,” Patricia replied beside me. “I was surprised when Beta Alfonso told us it was you who painted her. But your portrait…” Her voice softened, full of awe. “It captured her better than anything I’ve seen in years.”
I stared at the painting, heart pounding. “Who… who put it there?”
“Beta said he gave it to the Alpha, but no one saw him hang it,” she said with a quiet smile. “He just placed it there. Meaning it deserved to be seen.”
Alump formed in my throat.
I hadn’t painted her for praise or approval. I hadn’t even planned to leave it. I just wanted to offer something–a small tribute to the woman she had been, and to the pain that still lingered in this house.
But to see it there…
To see it honored like that…
It meant more than I could say.
Later, they gave me a guest room upstairs to rest. Audrey insisted I stay the night in the mansion rather than return to the dorms. “You need rest, El,” she said in a tone that didn’t invite argument.
But rest felt like an illusion. Not after what I heard today.
Sighing.. I walk to the guest room. The room was beautiful–marble floors, soft ivory curtains that danced with the breeze, and a wide window that opened out to the gardens below. Moonlight spilled over the grounds like silver mist, casting shadows across the trees and statues. This is too grand and amazing for just a guest room.
I stood at the window, hugging my sketchbook to my chest.
It impossible for me to be able to rest now without having any nightmare. I couldn’t sleep. Not when my heart felt so full and so heavy at the same time.
I decide to do something more than dwell in sadness. Take a look around the room I realize that it was the first time I had ever stayed here.
This place is beautiful, I feel like being inside the different world.
Then I look out from the balcony to see the garden below which looked like something from a fairytale—overgrown in places, with old rose bushes climbing the iron fences and winding stone paths leading through thick patches of ivy. It was both wild and elegant.
That’s a place that I know I couldn’t resist.
Slipping on my coat, I crept out of the room and padded barefoot down the hallway. Two guards noticed me by the stairs, and I gave them an awkward
smile.
“Can I go to the garden?” I asked softly.
They exchanged a glance, then nodded and offered to escort me.
We walked in silence until they opened the tall glass doors, revealing the night–shrouded garden. I thanked them, and they bowed respectfully before stepping back into the shadows.
I wandered through the roses, careful with each step. The garden was beautiful, but time had left it a little wild. The bushes hadn’t been trimmed in a while, and the grass brushed at my ankles. But it was honest. Untamed.
Just like me.
Then I saw it. A single blue rose.
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Chapter 15
Nestled among the others, its color glowed under the moonlight–vivid and rare. My breath caught. I had never seen one in person before.
I dropped to my knees without hesitation, sketchbook open, pencil already dancing across the page.
I lost track of time, immersed in lines and curves, trying to capture the exact bend of the petals, the way the light kissed its edges.
So focused was I that I didn’t notice him.
Not untill heard the soft scrape of a boot against stone.
I glanced up–and gasped.
Alpha Francesco sat on the bench nearby, arms resting on his knees, his piercing eyes locked on me.
“Oh my God, you scared me,” I blurted out, heart racing.
He didn’t smile, but something in his expression softened. “Apologies. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Oh God, I never thought he speaks again… That’s he’s going to make a comment.
I thought people said he always silent and never show himself.
What is he doing here?
I scrambled to my feet, clutching my sketchbook. “I didn’t know anyone else would be here.”
“It’s my home,” he said with a faint shrug. “I often come here when I need quiet.”
Shit, he was right, I was the imposter here.
I nodded, unsure what to say. “It’s… beautiful. The garden, I mean. A little wild, but I like it. Sorry for my sudden appearance in here without asking permission”
He just nodded without saying anything until he looked at the rose, I’d been drawing. “That one only blooms once every few years. Anastasia planted it.”
My chest tightened.
He noticed me draw it.
“It’s.. It’s beautiful. The blue rose, I mean” I try to reasoning, don’t know what to respond.
He didn’t reply immediately and just watch the blue rose carefully which make me turn my gaze to where his eyes land there.
Silence embraces us for a moment, but shockingly it was calming..
“You painted her.”
I froze. Didn’t know if he’s talking to me or not, but when I turn my gaze back at him, I saw his eyes lock on me.
“Yes.” I nodded in shy.
Is he going to be mad? I don’t know how his feel about it.
“So, it was you.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “I didn’t mean to impose. I just… I saw the old painting in the museum and felt like she deserved better. I’m sorry if t overstepped.”
He stood slowly, walking toward the rose. “You didn’t.”
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Chapter 15
My breath caught in my throat. What?
“I see her in that painting,” he said quietly. “Not just how she looked. But who she was.”
A long silence passed between us,
Never in my mind thinking that I will have a conversation with the silent Alpha,
The air was cool, fragrant with roses and earth and moonlight.
“She must’ve meant a lot to you,” I said gently.
He looked at me then, really looked at me. “She was everything.”
I nodded, heart aching for him.
How does it feel to be everything to their fated mate? It must be amazing feeling to know someone could love you like he does.
“Your painting… It’s the first time I’ve seen her and not felt only grief.”
I blinked rapidly, fighting the sudden sting of emotion. “I’m glad,” I whispered. “I wanted to give something back.”
He tilted his head slightly, voice lower now. “You did.”
The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of things unsaid.
And for once, I didn’t feel out of place.
Not in the garden.
Not in his presence.
Not even in my own skin.
I wasn’t invisible here.
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