Amputation [Belizna]

[Colette Moreau]

The breath caught in Colette’s chest, freezing her mid-stride as the smooth, resonant cadence of a familiar voice cut through the air.

Adrian?

For a jarring second, her mind scrambled to reconcile the sophisticated, sprawling luxury of Belizna with the man standing before her. She had expected Natalie, or perhaps an estate manager, or even a staff-person. She certainly hadn’t expected him.

Her pulse spiked and heat flushed her cheeks despite the bitter draft still swirling from her entrance indoors. Memories she had tried to bury, rationalize, and shake off of late collided all at once. She remembered the effortless charm, the way his eyes had held hers on the dance floor, and the sting of parting ways at her hotel room door. The way she had shut him out with a polite, final dismissal. And then, unbidden, came the ghosts of nights since then.

A shadow of unease ghosted over her expression. The strange, repeating architecture of those vivid, maddening dreams spirited across recent memory. She went from waking up in cold sweats, half-convinced her own mind was staging a mutiny, haunted by a version of him that felt far too real to now not being entirely sure how she felt about him anymore. The absolute certainty she’d had on the night of the masquerade had been that he was simply the most striking man in the room had curdled into something much more complex.

Colette caught herself and forced her jaw to relax, smoothing her features into a mask of pristine, unbothered composure as she turned fully to face him. She adjusted the lapel of her coat, letting a slow smile erupt over her lips. If he thought she was going to look rattled, he had another thing coming.

"Adrian," she echoed, her voice carrying that effortless, melodic amusement that masked a frantic fluttering beneath her ribs. She took a deliberate step closer, letting her gaze sweep over him, taking in the tailored fit of his clothes and the calm confidence radiating off his frame. He had seemed entirely safe, almost disarmingly so, right up until the moment he didn't. That lingering shadow of danger clung to him now, as real as it had been on the threshold of her room. She was suddenly grateful for the cashmere sweater beneath her coat, but it felt too thin even now.

Despite the instinct, that earlier attraction flared instantly, hot and undeniable, but came with a warning to be careful. This time, she kept her distance behind a shield of measured, glittering warmth.

"Well, you certainly have a talent for appearing where you're least expected,” Colette said, tilting her head with a light, teasing edge to her tone, though her eyes remained sharp as she tested the waters. 
"Though considering the state of the roads out there, I'm beginning to wonder if the storm trapped you here, or if you simply materialized out of the blizzard just to keep me company.”