Shadows of Deception: The Luna’s Impostor

Chapter 23: Visitor in Bed

The night enveloped the world outside in a velvety darkness, a serene stillness settling over the landscape. The faint light of a crescent moon filtered through the thin, gauzy curtains, casting soft, silver patterns across the floor of Eloise's new room. It was a night painted in shadows and whispers, the kind that held secrets in its folds.

Eloise lay soundly asleep on a grand four-poster bed, its frame made of dark, polished mahogany. The bed's heavy velvet curtains, drawn back and tied with golden cords, added a sense of opulence to the room. The mattress was thick and plush, topped with a feather-stuffed quilt and several layers of soft linens, each intricately embroidered with delicate floral patterns. Piles of pillows cradled Eloise's head, their covers a luxurious satin that shimmered slightly in the dim light.

The room itself was spacious, with high ceilings adorned with wooden beams. A large, ornately carved wardrobe stood against one wall, its doors slightly ajar to reveal glimpses of elegant dresses and finely made garments within. A small, intricately woven rug lay beside the bed, its muted colors blending harmoniously with the warm tones of the floor.

A single candle burned low on a nightstand beside the bed, its flame flickering gently and casting a warm, golden glow. The nightstand held a few personal items: a silver hairbrush, a small, leather-bound journal, and a delicate porcelain vase holding a single wilted flower. The ambiance of the room was tranquil and timeless, the only sounds the soft crackling of the candle and the distant, muffled hoot of an owl from outside. The air was cool and fresh, carrying the faint scent of lavender from a sachet placed under Eloise's pillow, a soothing fragrance that helped her drift into peaceful slumber. The entire scene was one of calm and quiet, a perfect haven for rest in a world of gentle, historical elegance.

Or so she thought.

Eloise shifted in her sleep, turning to her side, only to feel an unexpected warmth next to her. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion turning into shock as she realized she was not alone. There, lying beside her, was a man.

"AHHHHH!" she screamed, bolting upright and scrambling away, only to be entangled in the blankets. Her frantic movements sent her tumbling off the edge of the bed. She braced herself for the impact, squeezing her eyes shut, but instead of the hard floor, she felt a gentle, yet firm, cushion under her head.

Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into a pair of piercing blue eyes. The man, now fully awake, had caught her, his arm serving as a makeshift pillow.

"You woke me up," he said, his voice a deep, resonant murmur, their faces inches apart. His breath was warm against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

"You..." she began, her voice trembling as she took in his features, the same ones she couldn't forget.

"Yes, it is me," he replied with a smirk, his gaze never wavering. Recognition dawned on her as she took in his chiseled features, the same blue eyes that had haunted her memories. This was the man who had stolen a kiss from her that fateful night.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice a mixture of anger and confusion. She pushed against his chest, trying to put some distance between them, but his grip on her waist tightened slightly, keeping her close.

"Is this how you greet your future husband?" he teased, his smirk widening. His tone was playful, yet there was an underlying seriousness that made her heart race.

"Future husband?" she echoed, her mind racing to comprehend his words. She had known her engagement was imminent, but she hadn't expected this.

"You have met my mother, I suppose," he confirmed, his eyes darkening with a mix of emotions she couldn't decipher. "I wanted to see you, Eloise. To truly see you in person."

Her heart pounded in her chest as his words sank in. The tension between them was palpable, a magnetic pull that drew them closer despite her initial resistance. She could feel his warmth, his strength, and it made her knees weak.

"You had no right to come into my room," she managed to say, her voice softer now, betraying the conflict within her. She wanted to be angry, to push him away, but there was something about his presence that made it difficult to do so.

"I had every right," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Because from this night forward, you are mine, and I am yours."

Eloise's breath hitched as his words washed over her, their meaning sinking deep into her soul. The man who had haunted her dreams was now here, real and tangible, and she couldn't deny the spark that ignited between them. The air was thick with the scent of lavender, mingling with the tension that hung palpably between them. The man was so close, his eyes boring into Eloise’s with an intensity that made her heart race.

"God, you're beautiful," He murmured, his voice a soft caress that sent shivers down Eloise's spine. His gaze locked onto hers, creating a connection so raw and electric that it felt as if the world around them had disappeared. His face was slowly getting closer towards her.

For a moment, they were suspended in silence, the weight of unspoken words and emotions pressing down on them. But the fragile bubble of their connection was abruptly shattered by the sound of the door slamming open, echoing through the room like a thunderclap.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, ESTEPHAN?" Clara Van Alen's voice sliced through the tension, her eyes blazing with anger as she took in the sight of her son, so intimately close to Eloise.

Eloise’s heart leapt into her throat, her confusion evident as she turned to Estephan, who wore a smug smile on his lips. "Wait... Estephan?" she repeated, the name feeling foreign and yet familiar on her tongue.

"This man..." she began, her voice trailing off as she looked at him with a mix of bewilderment and dawning recognition.

Before Estephan could respond, another voice cut in, a voice that commanded attention and respect. "What the hell are you doing, brother?" The man who entered the room had an aura of authority, his presence imposing. He bore a striking resemblance to Estephan but exuded a more serious, mature demeanor.

"Forgive me for my brother's rudeness. He shouldn't be inside this room," he said, walking towards them with purposeful strides. His voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of steel. He effortlessly pulled Estephan away from Eloise, then carried her up carefully from the floor, her emotions a whirlwind of confusion and curiosity.

He placed her on the bed, then kneeled before her, the man looked into her eyes with a surprising softness in his gaze. "My apologies, Eloise," he said gently, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

As he smiled at her, Eloise's breath hitched. She glanced between the two men, her mind racing to make sense of the situation. The man that was sleeping right next to her was not the one she had met that night. It was him—Zachary Van Alen, her future husband.

"Welcome," Zachary said, reaching for her hand. "My future wife," he added, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. The touch of his lips sent a hot sensation through her, making her gasp softly.

Clara stepped forward, her voice stern. "Forgive us for his lack of decency. Let's go now, Estephan. We need to talk." Estephan stood, a cocky smile still plastered on his face as if he had won something from this encounter. The two left the room hurriedly, leaving them inside.

"Don't worry, this won't happen again," Zachary assured Eloise, his tone firm and resolute. "My arrival was later than usual, and I didn't expect him to act without my knowledge. Rest assured, he will be punished."

"No, it's alright. He didn't harm me," Eloise interjected, her voice soft yet firm. She could see the relief flicker in Zachary’s eyes at her words.

"If I had arrived later, he could have taken you from me," Zachary stated, his voice low and serious.

"What?" Eloise asked, confusion knitting her brows together.

"Did you not know?" Zachary asked, and Eloise shook her head. He sighed, his expression grave. "Any bride in this family can be taken from her betrothed by... taking their innocence from them," he explained which made her eyes widen. That really could have happened between them if they didn’t arrive. There was tension burning between them and no one could deny that.

"Estephan is my older brother and should have been next in line for the family, but he wasn't chosen by the elders or the moon. He's known for being playful and taking everything that belongs to me. I let him do as he pleases, but this one thing, I won't allow."

Silence enveloped them, the gravity of his words sinking in. Eloise felt an invisible force pulling them closer together, their bodies leaning towards each other. She could see the depth of his emotions in his eyes, the fierce protectiveness and the budding affection that stirred something deep within her.

But before their connection could deepen, Zachary looked away, breaking the spell. "Let's prepare you for dinner then," he said, standing up from the bed. He walked over to the table and rang the bell.

"I'll wait for you downstairs," he said before leaving the room, his departure leaving a void that made Eloise's heart ache with unspoken longing.

A few moments later, maids entered the room, led by Yvonne, who had been attending to Eloise. "Let's get you ready now, my lady," Yvonne said, her tone gentle and respectful. Eloise nodded, her mind still reeling from the recent events.

As the maids fussed over her, dressing her in an elegant gown and fixing her hair, Eloise couldn't shake the image of Zachary's intense gaze or the sensation of his lips on her hand. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, fear, anticipation, and a strange, budding excitement that she couldn’t quite name.

With a final glance in the mirror, she steeled herself for the evening ahead. She was about to face a world of intrigue and power, a world where she would have to navigate carefully. And at the center of it all was Zachary, the man who claimed her heart even before their marriage.

Eloise took a deep breath, ready to face whatever lay ahead, her heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and excitement. The night was young, and her future was just beginning to unfold in ways she could never have imagined.