Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Gianna

I woke up to the sun shining softly on my face, its warm rays filtering through the curtains and casting a cheerful glow over the room. The nightmare was staying at bay for now. Elena slept peacefully next to me, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. She had kept her word and stayed with me for the entire rest of the night, her presence a comforting reminder that I wasn't alone. It was something my mama used to do if I was frightened as a little girl, holding me close and whispering soothing words until I drifted back to sleep.

Mama had been dead for hundreds of years now, she and Papa both victims of the plague, but the ache of her loss still lingered keenly in my heart. I missed her gentle touch, her warm smile, the way she always knew just what to say to chase away my fears. Papa, too, with his strong, comforting presence and his deep, rumbling laugh, could make even the darkest days seem brighter.

As I lay there, idly watching the dust motes dance in the sunbeams, I thought again about the wolf shifter and his pack. If Angelo hadn't reached me when he did…. My heart pounded in my chest, and a cold sweat broke out over my skin as I trembled from my fingers down to my toes.

Elena stirred, opened her eyes and looked at me. She threaded her fingers through my hair. " Ma chère , they can't hurt you."

I nodded numbly, wanting desperately to believe her. The aches and pains in my body still lingered, but not as much as the terror of that night. My stomach churned, and a lump formed in my throat as the memories threatened to overwhelm me.

She stroked my hair. "How about you take a shower, ma chère , and I'll fix you some breakfast, oui ? You'll feel so much better."

The soft glow of the bedside clock caught my eye as I lay there, my body aching and my mind reeling. I peered at it and yawned. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty," Elena said softly, her voice cutting through the haze of my thoughts. She pulled the covers back, the rustling of the sheets echoing in the quiet room, and came around to my side of the bed.

I tried to push myself up, but my arms trembled and sharp pain shot through my ribs. I winced, my breath catching in my throat. Elena's cool, gentle hands reached out to me, one slipping behind my back to support me and the other grasping my arm. "Easy, Gianna," she murmured, her voice soothing and steady. "I will help you."

With Elena's assistance, I managed to sit up, the room spinning slightly as I moved. She put her arm around me, her touch firm yet comforting, and helped me off the bed. I gritted my teeth as I slowly hobbled forward, each step sending a jolt of pain through my battered body.

As we slowly made our way across the room to my bathroom, memories of the attack replayed in my mind. The snarling of the wolves, their hot breath on my skin, the flash of sharp teeth…. A shudder ran through me, and my knees buckled beneath me, making me stumble.

Elena tightened her grip, holding me steady. "I've got you," she assured me, her comforting voice cutting through the panic that threatened to consume me. "You're safe now, Gianna. They can't hurt you."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wanted to believe her, to allow myself to feel safe in her embrace, but the fear that clawed at my heart was not so easily quelled. The wounds on my body would heal, but the scars on my soul…. Those would take much, much longer to fade.

"Do you want me to help you?" Elena asked as we reached the bathroom, her brow furrowed with concern.

I gave her my best attempt at a smile, which faltered as a wave of pain washed over me. "No, thank you. I think I can take it from here," I whispered, my voice strained.

With a nod, Elena stepped back, allowing me to enter the bathroom. I closed the door and leaned against it, my breath coming in weak, ragged gasps as I fought to catch my breath. Every muscle in my body still screamed in agony, each movement sending shockwaves of pain through my nerves. It felt as if I had been hurled down a flight of jagged metal stairs. This wasn't normal. I hadn't felt like this since I was a human.

Another spasm of pain ripped through me, making me wince. It had to be that damn wolfsbane elixir. How long did it last? Days? Weeks? Longer? I wished I knew. The uncertainty gnawed at me, my stomach twisting into knots as I contemplated the potential implications of my weakened state.

As I waited for the water to heat up, I leaned over the sink and grimaced as I examined the purple bruise on the side of my face and the scratches on my body. A wave of nausea washed over me and I could feel the panic threatening to overwhelm me once more, the sight of my injuries a stark reminder of the horror I had endured. I gripped the edges of the sink, my knuckles turning white as I fought down the bile rising in my throat.

Steam soon filled the bathroom, fogging up the mirror and enveloping me in its warm, humid embrace. The wave of nausea passed, and I carefully stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my bruised body, washing away the lingering traces of fear and uncertainty. The heat soothed my aching muscles, and I felt some of the tension begin to drain away. I slowly lathered up with shower gel, the scent of lavender and vanilla filling my nostrils as I rubbed my skin, and then massaged shampoo into my hair. The familiar ritual was a comforting piece of normalcy in the chaos that had become my life.

By the time I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in an enormous fluffy towel and feeling marginally more like my old self, Elena was gone. Knowing her, she was probably downstairs organizing a breakfast feast, a spread that I wasn't sure I could manage to eat even a single bite of given the knots in my stomach.

It took me a while to get dressed. I chose a long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of jeans to hide my assorted scratches and bruises. Standing in front of the mirror, I carefully applied my makeup, trying to conceal the ugly shadows under my eyes that were a testament to my restless night. Despite my best efforts, the evidence of my exhaustion and anxiety remained—no amount of concealer could fully erase them.

There was a knock on the door, and Angelo entered with a breakfast tray. Last night, he had been a mess of worry and concern. His usually impeccable appearance had been disheveled, his hair untidy and his clothes rumpled. The deep lines on his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes had been proof of his worry over me, his mind undoubtedly plagued by all the horrific events that had transpired.

Today, though, Angelo was a completely different person. He stood tall and confident, his crisp suit perfectly pressed and his shoes polished to a shine. His face was rejuvenated, any worry lines smoothed out and replaced by a warm, comforting smile. The dark circles had vanished, and his eyes sparkled with renewed energy. It was as if the events of last night had been nothing more than a dream, and Angelo had emerged from it stronger and more determined than ever.

I inhaled the aromas of freshly brewed coffee, fried bacon, and sweet, buttery French toast. The scents were heavenly, and I found my appetite returning.

"Good morning, Gianna," Angelo greeted me, his voice calm and reassuring. His composure was a welcome change from his panic and distress of just a few hours ago.

He placed the tray on my small marble-topped table near the window. Despite the enticing smells, I was primarily focused on Angelo. Whenever he had an abrupt change in his demeanor like this, like from last night to today, it meant he had come to a decision.

I frowned. "Angelo, what's going on?"

He gestured toward the chair. "Please, sit."

I sat. Not because he ordered me to, but because my legs were threatening to collapse beneath me.

He picked up an ornate silver hand mirror off my tray, holding it carefully. "This is the Moirai Mirror. It's magical. I purchased it at auction at Simon's home, Ravenwood Estate," he said, his voice low and measured.

Every nerve tensed and I held my breath. Whatever he was going to say next, I knew it was going to be bad.

"In Greek mythology, the Moirai, or the Fates, were the goddesses who controlled the destinies of humans. The mirror is said to show the future." He sighed and held my gaze, his expression grave. "I'm going to be honest with you, Gianna. I've looked into this mirror, and it shows you being murdered in a warehouse on Bourbon Street. "

All the air whizzed out my lungs so fast I choked. "What?"

"It's not safe for you to remain in New Orleans right now. I've decided it's best for you to go to your friend Louise's birthday party in Salem. Petar will accompany you. You will leave tomorrow." Angelo's tone left no room for argument, and I could see the concern in his eyes.

I was in serious, serious trouble.