Beneath the ashes

Ria

The gates of Hawthorn House groaned open, the sound like a warning I should have heeded long ago. It had been years since I last stood here, but the air still held that same chill—a kind of oppressive weight that only came from places like this. From him.

I hadn't wanted to come back. I hadn't wanted to revisit this nightmare of a house that had once been my home. It was supposed to be over. The pain, the betrayal, the silence... but the letter changed everything. The sealed envelope had appeared on my doorstep without warning, the red wax glinting in the sunlight like some cruel symbol of fate. Return.

That one word had dragged me here, like a rope tied around my heart, pulling me back to the place I had left behind in flames.

My fingers gripped the steering wheel as I navigated the winding path up to the manor. The trees that once seemed so protective were now twisted, their branches clawing at the sky, blocking out the sun. The entire world here felt shadowed, suffocated by years of old pain and resentment.

When I finally parked in front of the house, the same sense of dread settled over me that had always come with it. The house was unchanged—untouched by time, by the world outside, as if it had waited for me to return.

A quick glance at the towering windows told me nothing. The house seemed dead, the windows empty, hollow eyes watching me as I climbed out of the car. The air was thick, carrying the scent of smoke—faint but unmistakable, like the last remnants of something long burned.

I couldn't stay outside for long. The pull of the manor was too strong. The darkened door beckoned, and I had no choice but to follow.

The door opened with a soft push, the hinges protesting in a familiar, almost mournful way.

The hallway stretched out before me, just as I remembered it. The grand staircase on my right, now covered in a thin layer of dust, felt like a mocking version of its former self. The walls, once adorned with portraits of my family, were now bare, their once-pristine wood tarnished and cracked. Everything seemed to be fading. But not the memories. They never faded.

As I walked further into the heart of the house, the house seemed to know me. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of air, felt like a greeting. A warning.

I paused in front of the old drawing room—the room where I had spent so many hours with Lucien. Where our lives had been woven together in a delicate, fragile thread. The door was cracked open. I could hear the faintest sound of breathing from the other side, like someone waiting.

I should have turned away.

But I didn't.

Pushing the door open, I stepped into the room.

And there he was.

Lucien Blackthorn. The boy I once loved. The man I had tried to forget.

He was standing by the grand windows, staring out into the darkening evening, his back to me. His dark hair fell in soft waves over his shoulders, and his clothes—black, tailored, sleek—clung to his form in a way that made the room feel smaller, tighter. There was no mistaking him. Not even after all these years. The sharp lines of his face, the chiseled jaw, the faint smirk that danced on his lips but never reached his eyes.

I held my breath.

He turned slowly, as if he'd been expecting me all along. His gaze met mine, cold, calculating, yet strangely... knowing.

"You came back," he said, his voice low, the familiar cadence of it cutting through the silence like a blade.

"I never left," I whispered, stepping farther into the room. The words felt hollow, like a lie I'd been trying to convince myself of for years.

Lucien's gaze never wavered. He studied me, his eyes lingering on my face as if searching for something buried beneath the surface.

"You left everything behind," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of old memories. "You left me."

My chest tightened at the rawness of his words. The ache I had buried deep inside of me began to stir, threatening to rise to the surface. I had come here for answers, for something that would make sense of everything we had lost. But facing him—standing here in this house that held so much of us, so much of him—I wasn't sure if I was ready.

"I didn't come back for you," I said, my voice more steady than I felt. I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince more: him or myself. "I came back for answers."

He smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. His gaze darkened, the weight of it pressing down on me.

"You think you'll find them here?" he asked, his words like a challenge.

I nodded, even though uncertainty gnawed at me from the inside. I had to. There was no turning back.

He took a slow step toward me, his presence overwhelming, like a shadow that stretched across the room and threatened to swallow me whole.

"You'll find more than you bargained for, Ria," he said softly, his voice low, dangerous.

I met his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to show fear.

"Then I'll be ready."

For a moment, we simply stood there, locked in a silent battle. And in that silence, I could feel the house around us, its walls pressing in like a cage, its whispers calling to me.

The door to the past had opened once more. And this time, I wouldn't walk away.

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Author's note

Hi guys, i hope you find this story interesting.

I will try to update other chapters as soon as possible

Do leave a comment how you find the first chapter.☺️