Time would tell.
And I had all the time in the world.
Chapter 7
Alina
Balthazar arrived at my door at the stroke of midnight.
He wore a glossy ebony jacket, a leather sash tight around his neck, fastened with a silver clasp gleaming in the moonlight. He looked untamed—his wild hair tumbling like a lion’s mane, framing ice-blue eyes that smoldered with an intensity sharp enough to pierce through bone. My pulse fluttered at the sight of him.
I opened the door. He stepped inside without a word.
His gaze found mine, and the world fell away at that moment. I would have followed him anywhere. I always had. For five years, he had come to me like this—under the veil of night, cloaked in secrecy—and still, the fire between us had never dimmed.
He extended his hand. I didn’t hesitate.
His fingers wrapped around mine—solid, warm, grounding—and I felt the familiar spark crawl up my arm. He pulled me against him, and I melted into his hold, my body instinctively molding to the contours of his. His heartbeat thudded against my chest, strong and steady, as if speaking the words he never said aloud.
“Come with me,” he whispered.
Our eyes locked, and I understood.
He offered escape from my manicured life of social functions and suffocating expectations, from lessons in etiquette, music, and domestic arts I’d never wanted. With Balthazar, there were no rules.No obligations. Only fire and freedom and the shadowed edge of something dangerous.
I loved him more with each breath, though I never dared to ask if he loved me back.
Our connection defied reason. It was primal and unshakable. Sometimes, we devoured each other like starving beasts. Other nights, we moved together so slowly and deeply that it felt like our souls were already intertwined—already wed beneath some ancient, unseen altar.
There was one day, one rare day in the sun, when we fled the city together. We found a quiet place by the river, a secret slice of solitude known only to those who dared seek it. We sat barefoot on the banks, our toes brushing the surface of the cool, rippling water. The sun bled orange into the sky, staining the world in firelight, and the scent of damp grass clung to the air as crickets began to sing.
In that moment, all was still. Safe. Mine.
With Balthazar beside me, I didn’t just feel alive.
I felt whole.
We didn’t need words to understand each other.
Our language lived in glances, the brush of fingers, and the quiet spaces between heartbeats.
Balthazar reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. I smiled and rested my head against his shoulder, grounding myself in him.
Together, we watched a small family of ducks waddle by, the ducklings peeping and splashing in the shallows. I envied their simplicity—the ease of their joy. Their world was uncomplicated, untouched by expectation or longing. And me? I was still tethered to a life I loathed, one filled with rehearsed smiles and hollow pleasantries.
When was the forever he’d once promised me?
Balthazar leaned closer. “I love moments like this,” he murmured. “When it’s just us… and the world disappears.”
I turned to him, my chest aching with affection. I kissed him, tasting the sweetness I’d come to crave. We stayed like that, suspended in a fragile pocket of time, where nothing else existed but this—us.
As the sun slipped beneath the horizon, reality called us back.But for now, we belonged only to each other for this fleeting heartbeat.
Still, when he wasn’t near, I found myself haunted by uncertainty.
No matter how deeply I loved him, some of me remained afraid. Afraid that this would end. That one day, he’d simply vanish.
He had never given me reason to doubt—but love makes cowards of us all.
