Chapter 8 The Names That Should Not Be Spoken

Selene's breathing became laboured. Her pulse thumping, she stepped forward. Even though the image was ancient and had some minor paint cracks, there was no denying the likeness. She was the one. Or someone who resembled her exactly, anyway. Selene leaned out and traced the tiny gold inscription at the bottom of the frame, her fingers shaking. Blackwood, Vivienne Blackwood. Her stomach churned. Was this the ancestor of Damien? His mum? A forgotten spouse? She had no time to reflect. Because all of a sudden- The door behind her slammed. She spun around. It was a small, windowless room.

The door, now locked, was the only way out.

Anxiety swept through her. Had she been locked in? Or was this a cruel trick of some sort? She listened, pressing her ear to the wood. Quiet. However, after that... A noise. Gentle and delicate murmur. Selene's heartbeat quickened. She turned back to face the photo, and for a split second, she thought the woman's lips had somehow moved. 'Run'. Selene felt a shiver run down her spine. Grabbing the doorknob, she twisted violently- The door then swung open. Straight into Damien.

She staggered back. Her escape was hindered by Damien's towering presence in the doorway. His eyes heated, but his expression was unreadable. "You're not supposed to be here," he muttered. Selene's throat became constricted. "You locked the door?" Damien remained silent. Rather, his eyes shifted to the picture behind her. He appeared... uneasy for the first time since she had met him. Selene took a step forward, holding on to her sole weapon. "Who was she?" Damien tightened his jaw. "No one." Selene laughed. "Don't tell me lies. My face is on her. He returned his attention to her. Dark. Risky. "You're making things up." Selene gave a headshake. "What makes me resemble her? Who is she?

Slowly, as though controlling himself, Damien let out his breath. Then he moved out of the way. "Selene, return to your room." Selene refused to back down. "Not until you-" "Go, I said." There was no request. She knew pushing him now wouldn't get her answers, even though she was feeling defiant. Selene then passed Damien after taking one final glance into Vivienne Blackwood's eerie eyes. She wasn't giving up, though. Not quite yet. Selene slammed the door as soon as she walked inside her room. She had trembling hands. What on earth was happening in this house?

Her thoughts was racing as she paced the room. Damien had been upset. Not his typical icy annoyance-truly shook. It was large, whatever he was concealing. And she was involved in some way. Selene was so absorbed in her thoughts that she couldn't tell how long she stood there. Then there was a knock. The door swung open as she turned. Damien then entered. Selene folded her arms. "I believed you wanted me to be in my room. You changed your mind?" Her sarcasm was disregarded by Damien. Rather, he looked at her intently. He whispered, "You're too inquisitive for your own good." Selene's chin went up. "You are also too private for yours." Damien's jaw muscle twitched. Then, out of nowhere, he moved forward.

As he got closer, Selene's breath caught as his dark, pricey, and enticing aroma enveloped her. He touched her wrist with his fingertips. Light. Hardly there. "You believe I'm concealing something?" He muttered. Selene won't be sidetracked. "I am aware that you are." Damien's mouth twisted. Dangerous and slow. His voice was silky as he whispered, "Then, Selene, by all means, continue to dig." Selene's heart skipped a beat. This was more than just a challenge. It served as a warning.

Selene kept thinking about the name that night. Blackwood, Vivienne. She had to identify her. Mrs. Hawthorne, however, refused to inform her. Of course Damien wouldn't either. So she went to the only one who could. Nathaniel. In the morning, Selene saw him checking the mansion's surveillance feeds in the security wing. She inhaled. "Vivienne Blackwood was who?" Nathaniel stopped. He remained still for a long time. He turned to her slowly after that. He had lost his normal cockiness. Rather, his face was... circumspect. "Where did that name come from?" Selene took a swallow. "Her portrait caught my eye." said Selene. Nathaniel let out a breath and wiped his face. "You shouldn't have-"

As Damien's sharp eyes met Selene's, her heart raced. Silent but furious, his presence in the security room was oppressive. Evidently not wanting to be in the centre of whatever was going to happen, Nathaniel took a careful step back. Damien didn't even look at him. Selene was the centre of his attention. She didn't cower and straightened. "Will you tell me who she was, or will you just keep staring at me?" Damien's mouth clenched. "No." Selene laughed. "Obviously. Because you are best at maintaining secrets." She caught the nearly imperceptible flutter of his fingers at his side. He was uneasy about Vivienne Blackwood's name for some reason.

"Why does she look like me?" Selene pushed. Damien approached her with a deliberate, slow step. Then another. He was so near by the time he stopped Selene had to rise her head up to see him in the eye. "You're engaging in a risky game," he whispered. Selene's breathing became laboured. Something unsaid permeated the air around them. From the corner, Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Perhaps we ought to all-" He immediately stopped talking as Damien gave him a glance. Selene's fists clenched. "Damien, you can't scare me out of this." He curled his lips slightly, but his face was not amused. "Oh, Selene." Though it was much riskier than if he had screamed, his voice dipped to a whisper. "I am capable of much more than just intimidating."

She stormed out into the hallway, her eyes rolled out of rage. "I didn't know we had visitors coming," Mrs. Hawthorne's voice replied sternly. A female voice, brimming with laughter, responded. "We weren't. However, when was the last time I required an invitation?" Selene scowled. Her rage turned to curiosity. Just as a woman turned the corner, she moved into the hallway. She was beautiful. Emerald-green eyes, dark red lips, and a figure encased in a garment that hugged all the curves. However, there was something about her that made Selene uneasy right away. As soon as she saw her, the woman halted. Then her lips twisted slightly. "Oh, yeah," she purred. "I assume you're the new wife." Selene tensed. "Are you, too?" Like a cat watching a mouse, the woman cocked her head. "One of Damien's friends."

Behind her, Mrs. Hawthorne stood rigidly, obviously not happy. Selene's eyes narrowed. "And is there a name for this friend?" A smile. "Call me Isadora." Selene wasn't a moron. Isadora was more than simply a companion. She wasn't welcome here either, based on the way Mrs. Hawthorne was staring at her with a dagger-like expression. Selene's chin went up. "Damien is not present." Isadora grinned more broadly. "Oh, I understand." Her emerald eyes darted over Selene as she took a step closer. She whispered, almost to herself, "He has a type." Selene felt a knot in her stomach.

The doors flew open before she could enquire what she meant. Damien then entered. The room's temperature decreased. When Damien saw Isadora, his whole body tensed. His face became unreadable. Chilly. Inhospitable. "Leave," he said. Selene blinked. Not "hello." What are you doing here, anyway? Simply leave. Isadora let out a loud sigh. "Is that how you greet me now?" Damien stepped forward. The room seemed smaller just by his presence. "Isadora, I won't say it again."

The tension was so intense for a moment that Selene could hardly breathe. Then Isadora grinned as abruptly as she had come. She gave Selene a final, lingering glance before turning back to her. She then approached Damien and positioned a finger that had been manicured beneath his chin. Selene's chest became constricted. Isadora whispered, "A girl with secrets is impossible to resist." Then she turned to leave. Damien then released her.

Selene discovered Damien gazing out into the stormy night from the balcony that evening. After hesitating, she moved to stand next to him. "Who was she?" Quietly, she asked. Damien avoided eye contact with her. "Someone you don't have to be concerned about." Selene let out a sigh. "I don't have to. However, I would like to.

At last he turned. His glittering eyes shone as the wind tossed his dark hair. He didn't appear angry or icy for the first time. He simply appeared worn out. "You're wearing me out," he whispered. Selene grinned. "You say that as if I'll quit." There was a flash in his eyes. Then Damien moved closer, too quickly for her to respond. She was close enough to smell the subtle cedar and smoke scent and feel the warmth of his body. For a brief moment, his fingertips touched her chin. Then he said, almost too faintly to be heard: "Then don't." Then he disappeared.