The Devil's Bargain

Waking to Reality

Kristina’s eyes shot open, her heart pounding in her chest as if she had run a marathon. The world around her slowly came into focus—no tapestries, no velvet sheets, no dark seduction. Just the familiar glow of morning sunlight filtering through the kitchen windows. She blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream that clung to her mind like cobwebs. The scent of soap and lemon hung in the air, and the cold tile floor pressed against her cheek. She had fallen asleep while cleaning.

She groaned, pushing herself up from the floor. Her body ached in protest as she rose to her feet, the mop she had been using lying forgotten nearby. The kitchen, spotless and gleaming, stood in sharp contrast to the haunting vision that had consumed her dream.

A dream. Just a dream.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to make sense of the vivid images still swimming in her mind. Blake’s mansion, the book, the strange power coursing through her, Blake’s touch—it had all felt so real. Too real. The way her body had responded, the intensity of it all... Kristina shivered, goosebumps prickling her skin. She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her, the way his breath had whispered against her lips.

But it wasn’t real.

Kristina exhaled, long and slow, grounding herself in the present. She glanced at the clock on the wall—8:15 AM. She had been up most of the night, scrubbing away the grime that had accumulated in the corners of the old kitchen, trying to lose herself in something mundane. The dream, however, had swept her away into something far from mundane.

She touched her lips, half-expecting them to feel different, but they were the same. Her mind, though... it was racing, torn between the memory of Blake’s warnings and the darker, more tempting figure from her dream. She shook her head, willing herself to focus.

What was happening to her?

Grabbing the mop, she leaned it against the wall, her legs still shaky. It had all been a product of her imagination, fed by the mysteries of the east wing and her curiosity about Blake’s strange behavior. There was no forbidden library with sinister books, and certainly no shadowy figure lurking in the dark corners of the mansion.

But why had it felt so familiar? So intense?

Kristina rubbed her temples, trying to push away the lingering fog from her dream. Blake’s face flashed before her—those stormy eyes, the way he had gripped her shoulder, the tension between them. She could feel something pulling at her, a thread connecting them that she couldn’t quite understand.

She moved toward the sink, splashing cold water on her face, trying to wash away the disorienting feelings still clinging to her. The water felt sharp against her skin, reminding her that she was here, now. Awake.

As she dried her hands, she turned and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the kitchen’s small, cracked mirror. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, lips still slightly parted as if she had been caught between two worlds—one real and one imagined. The dream tugged at her mind like a loose thread she wanted to pull, to unravel, but she couldn’t afford to let herself fall into that spiral. Not when the real world was already strange enough.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. The east wing was still off-limits, Blake had made that clear. But the pull to know more, to uncover the secrets of the mansion, hadn’t disappeared. If anything, it was stronger now.

The dream had only fueled her curiosity.

Kristina ran her fingers through her tangled hair, forcing herself to focus. She couldn’t let her imagination run wild, not with Blake already suspicious of her. He would never let her near the east wing if he knew what she was thinking.

The kitchen suddenly felt too small, the air too thick, and Kristina knew she needed to step outside, clear her head, and shake off the remnants of the strange dream that had gripped her so tightly.

Grabbing her coat, she walked to the back door of the mansion. The garden stretched out before her, dewy and serene, offering a brief escape from the heavy atmosphere inside the house. The cool air hit her as soon as she stepped outside, refreshing her senses, calming the racing thoughts in her mind.

As she stood there, letting the breeze wash over her, she couldn’t help but glance toward the east wing. From the outside, it looked like any other part of the mansion, but Kristina knew there was more—more than what Blake had told her, more than what she had seen in her dream. And she was going to find out what it was.

But first, she had to figure out how to do it without Blake finding out.

Her mind buzzed with plans, possibilities, and questions, but she pushed them aside for now. She would take this one step at a time. Today, she would pretend nothing had happened. She would play her part, clean, stay quiet, and wait for her opportunity to explore the east wing when the time was right.

For now, though, Kristina needed to focus. She couldn’t let herself get lost in the mansion’s shadows—or in her dreams.