The dining room of the Rossi mansion was as spacious as a museum hall. A polished oak table occupied the center, beneath a soft crystal chandelier. Nothing was ostentatious, but everything screamed old-world elegance. Enrique had left plates of freshly made pasta, warm bread, bottled water —the kind that didn't come from suspicious jugs— and an already opened bottle of red wine, without asking.
Kali sat beside Nicco. Dahlia across from them, still watchful.
"This is surreal," she said, cutting a piece of bread. "Two days ago I was reading Cortázar, and now I'm having dinner in a mansion, running from ghost wolves and possessed water."
"Not so different," replied Nicco, pouring wine. "Cortázar had his share of monsters and the inexplicable."
"I just want to eat without wondering if someone's going to poison me again," Kali joked, but with a trace of truth.
"Don't worry," Nicco said, handing her the glass. "If anything in this house tries to kill you, it'll have to go through me first."
Kali raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Promise or threat?"
"Whichever you prefer, principessa," he whispered, with that half-smile that always came with side effects.
Dahlia rolled her eyes subtly, but smiled anyway. It was impossible not to with those two.
Dinner flowed between jokes, wild theories about wolves as sentinels for something greater, and questions left unanswered. For a moment, the warmth of the meal, the wine, and the company felt like enough to keep fear at bay.
When they finished, Enrique appeared silently, as always.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"Would you like anything else before retiring?"
"Just for nothing weird to happen tonight," Kali said, stretching. "But if it does... let the chaos at least be handsome."
Enrique allowed the faintest smile.
"In that case, miss, you are in good company."
Kali let out a half-laugh while Nicco raised an eyebrow.
"Are you flirting with me, Enrique?"
"Never," he replied, unshaken. "I merely acknowledge the obvious."
—
Later. East Wing Hallway. 12:21 a.m.
The rooms were massive, with high ceilings and beds fit for storybooks. Enrique had everything ready, even soft cotton pajamas, perfumed and neatly folded.
Dahlia said a quiet "good night" and gently closed her door. Despite her exhaustion, her mind raced as fast as her heartbeat.
In the hallway, Kali stood in front of her assigned room... but didn't move.
Nicco appeared silently behind her.
"What's wrong?"
She turned to face him, arms crossed.
"I'm not sleeping alone tonight, Rossi."
"Oh no?"
"No. Not with wolves outside, magic necklaces, and you looking at me like you wanted to commit sins since dinner."
Nicco stepped closer, closing the distance.
"You could come... for security," he murmured near her ear.
"Sure," Kali whispered. "Security. Let's go with that."
He smiled and offered his hand, like inviting her to a dance.
"This kind of protection only includes cuddles... until I run out of good intentions."
"Then it'll be a short night," she replied, taking his hand.
They disappeared down the hall, laughing softly, and slipped into Nicco's room.
The door closed with a gentle click.
—
An hour later
Dahlia tossed and turned in bed. The mattress was soft, the sheets even softer... but her mind stayed alert. The wolf. The water. The necklace. It was all too much for one day.
On the other side of the house, in a quiet room, two bodies slept wrapped in the gentle weight of the blankets. Nicco had one arm firmly around Kali, and she, resting her head against his chest, breathed in sync with his calm.
It wasn't just exhaustion that kept them like that. It was the kind of intimacy that appears when the world feels uncertain —when the night is too vast and human warmth is the only thing that still feels real.
They slept deeply. Connected.
As if, somehow, they knew that soon... nothing would ever be the same.
That night, no one dreamed of caves.
Or necklaces.
Or roots.
But something did move outside the house.
Something that stalked in the darkness...
Waiting.
