28. Clarissa
CLARISSA
C onsciousness returns slowly, wading through a thick fog. The first thing I’m aware of is a low murmur that ebbs and flows like distant waves. My eyelids are too heavy to open, so I lie still, letting the sound wash over me.
As my senses gradually sharpen, I begin to distinguish words.
“He was their fucking alpha…” A man’s voice, taut with anger. “Yes, it’s a problem. Make it go away. Fast.”
The voice is familiar, but my groggy mind can’t quite place it. I force my focus, willing the fog to lift.
Other sensations seep in. The bed beneath me is soft, not a hospital cot. Smooth, cool satin glides against my skin—sheets? My brain struggles to catch up.
With monumental effort, I manage to crack open my eyes. Light floods in, momentarily blinding. I blink rapidly, trying to adjust.
I’m in a room I don’t recognize—richly furnished, golden sunlight muted by gauzy curtains. Not home. Not safe. My heart stutters.
How long was I unconscious?
A shiver shakes my form. The cool satin sheets are the only thing covering my naked body.
The realization jolts me fully awake, a gasp escaping my lips before I can stifle it.
The voice cuts off. I turn my head to see Kaisner pacing at the foot of the bed, phone pressed to his ear. His gaze snaps to mine—relief, concern, and something darker flicker in his maroon eyes.
“I’ll call you back,” he says into the speaker, never taking his gaze off me. He ends the call and moves to the bed, his presence enveloping me.
“Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, a low rumble that resonates through my being, setting my nerves alight. “How are you feeling?”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. How am I feeling? Confused. Terrified. The events of last night—Alexei’s inhuman form, the violence, the blood—flash through my mind.
“Kaisner,” I rasp, my voice hoarse. “What… what happened?”
He hesitates, then reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The tenderness in his touch is at odds with the tension in his jaw. “You’re safe,” he says, his tone fiercely protective. “That’s what matters.”
But as the mental fog continues to clear, I know that’s not enough. “Alexei,” I whisper, my chest tightening. “Is he…?”
“Dead,” he says flatly. The word lands heavy in the silence.
The terror of what he’s saying crashes over me like a tidal wave. I flinch. “You killed him,” I whisper, each word rising. “You killed Alexei!” Horror and fury boil over. I clutch the sheet to my chest and slap Kaisner, hard.
For a moment, he looks stunned—then his eyes narrow dangerously.
We struggle, my hands clawing at him as he tries to restrain me. But he’s stronger, much stronger. In a matter of seconds, I’m pinned to the mattress, my wrists held firmly at my sides.
“That was not Alexei Morozov!” he growls, his face inches from mine, breath hot against my cheek. “He was long gone, and that beast would’ve killed you.”
Kaisner’s chest heaves as he regains his composure, his body a solid weight above me. I’m acutely aware of my nakedness, of the heat radiating from his skin.
“What do you mean?” I ask, voice trembling, warm tears brimming in my eyes. “I saw you shoot him. I saw him die!”
Kaisner loosens his grip, but doesn’t let go. “What you saw,” he murmurs, his tone intense, “was a shifter gone feral. The Alexei you knew was no more. If I hadn’t acted, you’d be dead.”
I want to argue, to scream, but a flash of Alexei’s glowing eyes, his distorted voice, the inhuman claws reaching for me... it all comes flooding back. The fight drains out of me as the truth settles in.
“I had no choice, Clarissa,” he says, calmer now, releasing me as understanding washes over my expression.
The memory of Alexei’s features, his fangs bared and ready to claim me, races through my mind. I shudder, pulling the sheets tighter around me.
“My clothes,” I manage to say. “Where are they?”
A flicker of something—embarrassment?—crosses Kaisner’s face. “They were... ruined,” he says carefully. “Blood. I had them disposed of.”
I nod, my confidence slipping away as the reality sinks in. I’m naked in a strange bed, with a man who killed to protect me.
“Where am I?” The question slips out, the silk sheets tightening around me, reminding me of my vulnerability.
The hardness in his gaze fades, a hint of pride in his voice. “My penthouse. I own the building, actually.”
The casual mention of owning an entire building in Paris is a stark reminder of how little I know about him. Kaisner Drachenstein, dangerous and wealthy beyond measure, is still an enigma.
He must sense my unease because his expression softens. He shifts on the edge of the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip. His hand hovers for a moment before resting gently on my sheet-covered leg.
His touch grounds me, bringing the night’s events rushing back. “Alexei...” I begin, a whisper escaping my lips, “he tried to claim me.”
“Kill you,” Kaisner corrects, voice hard as steel. His hold tightens imperceptibly on my leg. “The beast had devoured whatever humanity remained in him. He would’ve destroyed you.”
A shudder runs through me at his words. Alexei’s transformed face flashes before my eyes. Kaisner’s right—there had been no humanity left in Alexei in those final moments.
“I… I didn’t realize,” I stammer, the horror of what I narrowly escaped crashing down on me. “I didn’t think he... would ever...”
Kaisner’s expression softens further. He shifts closer. His hand moves from my leg to cradle my face, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. “This world… our world... it’s more dangerous than you know. Monsters hide behind human faces, predators waiting for any sign of weakness.”
His eyes, usually so guarded, are open now, filled with something deeper, more intense. “But I promise you this—as long as I’m around, nothing will harm you . I will burn this city to the ground before I let anyone touch you.”
The fervor in his voice should frighten me. Instead, I find myself leaning into his touch, safety washing over me despite the dark promise in his words. In this moment, with Kaisner’s hand on my cheek and his vow suspended between us, I feel protected like never before.
But as I look into his eyes, I can’t help but wonder—in a world of monsters and predators, what kind of creature is Kaisner Drachenstein? And what does it mean that, despite everything, I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame?
“I understand this is a lot to process,” he says, his voice low and intimate. He lowers his hand again, resting it on my leg. His thumb traces slow circles on my thigh, sending shivers through me. “You’re safe here, Clarissa. With me.”
I meet his gaze, struck by the sincerity there. “I know,” I whisper, surprised to find that I mean it. Despite everything, I do feel sheltered with him.
His touch slides up, resting on my hip. The heat of his palm burns through the sheet, igniting a fire within me. “There’s so much I want to tell you,” he murmurs, leaning in closer. “So much I want to share.”
My pulse quickens as he draws near. For an instant, I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he presses his forehead to mine, our breaths mingling in the space between us.
A soft rap at the door breaks the silence, so faint I almost miss it. Kaisner’s head whips around, his body tensing for a fraction of a second before relaxing. He walks to the entrance, opening it just enough to exchange hushed words with someone outside.
When he turns back, a long, sleek garment bag drapes over his arm. The black fabric gleams under the soft light, the zipper catching a glint as he moves. His footsteps are silent on the plush carpet as he approaches the bed.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Kaisner says, his voice a deep, velvety timbre that sends a shiver down my spine. “I took the liberty of arranging an outfit for you.”
He lays the bag on the bed with careful precision, his movements deliberate. The mattress dips slightly under the weight, and I catch a whiff of a fresh floral fragrance emanating from its wrapping.
Kaisner’s fingers trail along the zipper, a teasing gesture that sends a jolt through my body. My pulse quickens, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Why don’t you get dressed?” he suggests, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that makes the room warmer. “Dinner’s waiting when you’re ready.”
The promise in his voice—of food, yes, but of so much more—hangs in the air. I nod, curiosity building as I wonder what he’s chosen, what the evening holds.
As Kaisner leaves, I unzip the bag, gasping softly at what I find inside. The gown is a masterpiece of midnight blue silk, simple yet undeniably elegant. It fits like a dream, as if it were made for me. Knowing Kaisner, it probably was.
When I emerge from the bedroom, Kaisner’s gaze darkens as he takes me in, his look a blend of appreciation—and something more primal. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, offering his arm. “Shall we?”
He leads me to a dining room that takes my breath away. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of Paris, the Seine snaking through the city, Notre-Dame rising majestically in the distance. The table is set for two, gleaming china in soft lighting, a bottle of wine already breathing.
As we sit, I stare at the elegant food before me, my stomach twisting at the thought of eating. The events at the club replay in my mind—Alexei’s blood on my hands, the dullness in his eyes as life faded from them. How can I eat?
The scrape of chair legs pulls me from my thoughts. Kaisner shifts his seat closer, his presence overwhelming—comfort and quiet authority that make my pulse race.
“You need to eat,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. When I shake my head, he leans closer, his gaze darkening with concern and something more possessive. “Clarissa, you haven’t eaten all day. I won’t watch you waste away.”
“I’m not hungry,” I protest weakly, but Kaisner is already reaching for my fork. He spears a piece of perfectly cooked fish, bringing it to my lips.
“Just a few bites,” he murmurs, his tone brooking no argument. “For me.”