THE UNBREAKABLE PIECE (FIRST BOOK OF THE HIDDEN WORLD) English version

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: RECOGNIZE

I woke up far from Alba and New York; the ceiling here was made of stone, and the stench of decay had already left my nostrils. Instead, an aroma of cinnamon and vanilla lingered in the air and settled in my mouth. My ribs no longer hurt, and my lip and neck had stopped bleeding. All of which led to the same conclusion—I was still in the same confusing world as before, and I had been healed by Gemma.

I was alone in that enormous room of gray stone that had eroded over time. A silver-plated chandelier hung from the ceiling, with two small bulbs that barely illuminated in contrast to the light coming in through the window with white linen curtains.

The phantom pain of my wounds still lingered in my body, so I raised my torso carefully, making sure no one was watching me. Surely, on the other side of that dark oak door, Ben was there with a furrowed brow and eyes about to shoot flames. I searched for my boots under the bed, placed my feet on the cold floor, and put them on, hoping to find a member of my guard. I wanted to return to the castle before my father noticed that I had run away, although there was a good chance that Gerard or my guard had already betrayed me. I didn't know how long I had been unconscious, so I needed to hurry.

I took the leather jacket and checked its pockets for the small velvet box. It was there, soft to the touch and still unopened. I clumsily put on the jacket over my shoulders, leaving behind my bloodstained hoodie. The door separating me from the rest of the house was much heavier than I expected. I stuck only half of my head into the hallway, looking for a face that might scold me, but the place was deserted.

The house seemed to have been designed centuries ago, with its stone walls, wooden finishes, and small oval doors. It wasn't a modern design, so I supposed we must still be in England. The hallway was long, with several rooms, and right at the end, there was a window with stained glass being pounded by the rain.

I approached one of the doors, hearing a faint sound of movement. I knocked twice lightly, not trying to draw too much attention around me. The past haunted me; there could always be the possibility of a monster on the other side of the door or the wardrobe, waiting to open my throat.

"Hello," I called softly.

"Yes, come in, please." The voice on the other side of the door had sounded strangely familiar, and without thinking twice, I entered the room.

This was becoming a bad habit.

A young man with dark, café-au-lait-colored skin jumped as much as I did when he found me standing still in the doorway. He had just come out of the bathroom, with only a towel covering the lower part of his body, hooked just at his hips. His shoulders were broad, his collarbone visible. His short hair gleamed with water, dampening the wooden floor, and his well-defined abs almost glowed. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried unsuccessfully to hide behind the bed.

"Your Highness!" he said embarrassedly in a seductive British accent. "I'm sorry, I thought it was someone else. I didn't know you were already awake."

My mouth remained slightly open; I knew I should leave, but his pale and deep blue eyes had captured my attention. I felt drawn to them like bees to honey. Although my body told me I should flee, as it was a half-naked man in front of me—an unknown man—my legs seemed to have forgotten how to function. I tensed my shoulders, hiding my neck. I had never felt so inhibited as at that moment, but still, I didn't want to escape.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," the boy added with a smile forming on his lips. "It wasn't my intention for us to meet this way."

"The fault is mine," I said, closing the door behind me, my cheeks at boiling point.

I hastened my pace in that narrow and dark corridor, trying to unlock the window latch and maybe jump out, because being trapped here with shame gnawing at me from within was definitely worse.