Mia's lips drifted away from Randolf's. The moment the warmth broke, a cold clarity washed over her. This was wrong. Not sinful — worse. A betrayal not of marriage, but of truth.
She stepped back, breath trembling.
"Randolf... no."
Her voice carried the softness of a plea and the firmness of a boundary.
"Please don't ever kiss me again."
A flicker of instinct — animal, ancient — passed through his amber gaze, then dimmed into shame.
"My apologies," he murmured, lowering his head. "We wolves... sometimes we comfort with touch before thought. You looked wounded, and—I failed to restrain myself."
"It may be instinct," Mia answered, steady but hollow, "but among humans it is wrong. And I..." She inhaled, as though her confession would cost her flesh.
"I love someone else."
Randolf's brows tightened, curiosity sharpening his grief.
"Who?"
"Ryan," she whispered. "My daughter's father."
His jaw tightened. A quiet tragedy settled into him.
"But he is married to—"
"Hello! How are you two?"
Theolinda's voice cut through the air like a bell through fog.
They turned. She stood before them —cheerful, composed, unreadable. She had moved silently, like someone who had learned long ago that storms must be observed before they are stopped.
Mia forced a thin smile. "I thought you were going to see Ryan."
"I was," Theo replied softly. "But I left my phone inside. I'll go fetch it. You two continue."
"No," Mia blurted. "I'll go with you. Randolf was just leaving."
Randolf stiffened.
"Mia," he said in a low voice, desperation brushing the edges, "We must talk."
"Another time."
Her tone was final, trembling beneath its frost.
"Now you understand."
She disappeared into the mansion's shadowed halls beside Theolinda.
Randolf remained alone in the sunlit courtyard, but he felt the loneliness of a forest in winter.
Where is Ryan?
Why does he not live here?
Where does she go to see him?
Questions scraped at him like claws.
Mia found Scarlett in her room, curled like a startled sparrow upon her bed. Tears shimmered in the girl's eyes — fury and hurt tangled in childhood's fragile heart.
"What happened at school?" Mia whispered, sitting beside her.
Scarlett's voice shook but did not break.
"That boy lied about Daddy. So I... I defended him."
"What lie?"
"He said my dad is a murderer."
Silence — sharp enough to cut. Mia felt words collapse inside her.
The child looked up, lower lip trembling.
"Daddy's not bad, right?"
Mia gathered Scarlett's hands in hers, a trembling prayer.
"Your father did terrible things," she said softly, "but he's not a murderer. And now, he isn't terrible. His heart has changed."
Scarlett blinked hard.
"Is that why he is in that place, and he can't come home?"
"Yes, darling."
"And he loves you more than anything. That love is what changed him. You must be good, so you don't break his heart again. Alright?"
Scarlett nodded, voice small as a ghost.
"I love him. I know he's good. Grandpa hurt him. That's why he was bad."
The truth of trauma spoken by a child: simple, sharp, devastating.
"You are very smart," Mia whispered, stroking her cheek.
Scarlett hesitated.
"Is that boy okay?"
"I hope so," Mia murmured.
Alone at last, Mia collapsed on her bed. Tears rushed out — raw, unstoppable. Grief and guilt and desire — all tangled like thorns. The phone rang, shrill and merciless.
She wiped her face, voice scraped thin.
"Yes?"
"This is Agnetha, Scarlett's teacher. About the boy — William."
Mia's heart seemed to stop.
"How is he?"
"No internal injury, thank heavens. Some bruises, a minor cut. But his parents demand Scarlett's expulsion."
Mia exhaled, steadying herself like a blade being set in place.
"That is not necessary. I had already planned to withdraw her — the school lacks supervision. And the boy struck her first; he may need help as well. We won't be returning."
Before the teacher could reply, Mia ended the call. She could not bear judgment — not one more ounce.
In his office, Randolf sat in silence. His wolf-heart beat with longing and regret.
He had kissed temptation —and lost her to a man caged in steel but worshipped in spirit.
Love between a wolf and a woman was forbidden. But he had always been a lone wolf. He would leave his pack if he must. Yet love cannot be willed — and Mia's faith lay elsewhere.
Meanwhile, Theolinda stepped into the visitation chamber. Ryan rose at once, hunger blazing in his eyes. He kissed her — fierce, grateful, starved for touch. Her heart ignited; every time, his fire surprised her.
"I have planned my escape," Ryan whispered, breath warm against her cheek.
"Jeremiah will distract the guards. I'll vanish. The alarms will go dark."
Theo's pulse jolted. Danger wrapped around his words like velvet around a dagger.
"It sounds perilous," she breathed. "But may fate guard you."
He kissed her again — slower, reverent.
"I've also prepared what I will tell Alexandra — about the murders... and the curse."
"Perhaps the curse is already broken," Theo murmured.
Ryan froze.
"What makes you say that?"
Theolinda's voice trembled — not with fear, but with revelation.
"Because today," she whispered, "I saw Mia kiss Randolf."
YOU ARE READING
DAGON MANSION
Paranormal(THE DAGON SAGA 2) DAGON MANSION IS THE SEQUEL TO FORESTVALE MANOR, A STORY WITH OVER 4.7 K VIEWS. Mia moves to the mysterious Dagon Mansion, haunted by a long-lost past. With her daughter Scarlett at her side, Mia takes on her inner battle against...
