Page 239 of Evil Hearts

Amelia trailed her fingers along the spines of leather-bound books, each one a relic from a time she could scarcely imagine. She noticed a volume that seemed out of place—a modern title amidst the antiquated tomes. With a gentle push, the bookcase groaned and swung inward, revealing a hidden room.

Her breath was lodged in her throat. The chamber was crammed with centuries-old artifacts: gilded mirrors, intricately carved statues, and hauntingly beautiful portraits of Dimitri, unchanged through the ages. Each brushstroke captured his timeless features, his powerful gaze, making her question everything she thought she knew.

An unsettling chill ran through her veins. She stepped back, unable to reconcile the man she had been with moments ago with the immortal enigma before her. She turned quickly, leaving the hidden room behind, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

Her thoughts floated like fireflies. Shadowfield Manor’s grandeur now seemed oppressive, its glamour masking secrets too dark to comprehend. What did it all mean? How could she have been so blind?

“Amelia,” came a voice, soft yet loaded with power.

She looked up to see Dimitri standing in the doorway of the study, his expression one of resigned acceptance.

“Who are you?” Amelia’s hands trembled. “What is this place? Those portraits, the hidden room, the documents...they tell a story I can’t even begin to understand.”

Dimitri sighed deeply, stepping into the room with a grace that spoke of centuries of practice. “I am not who you think I am, lyubimaya. My existence spans three hundred years. I am...a nosferatu.”

The disclosure struck her like a physical blow. She staggered back, grappling with the enormity of his confession. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, each one crashing into the next without giving her time to process.

Could this be real? The man she had fallen for was confessing to an existence that defied logic and everything she believed in. The room seemed to close in around her, the air thickening as if it too were struggling under the weight of his revelation. She had always craved adventure, but this was beyond anything she could have ever imagined.

“You’re say…that you’re three hundred years old?” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “How is that even possible?”

“Time has been both my ally and my curse,” Dimitri replied, his voice colored with a dark sadness. “I have seen empires rise and fall, loved ones age and die, while I remain unchanged.”

She wondered about those lost loves he mentioned. Were they women like her? Did they also fall for his appealing charm only to be shattered by the truth? The idea gnawed at her insides, a bitter pill she couldn’t swallow.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Amelia glared hard, anger and betrayal burning her insides. “You let me believe you were just a man, someone I could...” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

“Because I feared what you would think of me,” Dimitri said softly, his voice pleading for understanding. “I feared you would see me as a monster.”

Monster.The word thickened in the air like a dark cloud. Was he truly a monster? Or was he just another soul trapped bycircumstances beyond his control? The lines between right and wrong blurred in her mind, leaving her adrift in uncertainty.

She stared at him, struggling to reconcile the man she had sex with only hours ago, the man whose touch had set her aflame, with the immortal being standing before her. Every instinct told her to run, to leave this place and never look back, but another part of her yearned to understand, to uncover the truth.

But she knew this wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. Was he playing some kind of twisted game? Her heart beat hard and fast against her ribs as she tried to make sense of it all.

“This isn’t real. You’re just making all of this up to scare me off. If you don’t want to be with me, just say it, but don’t create elaborate lies about being a damn vampire!” Amelia snapped.

In that moment of anger and confusion, she realized something profound about herself—her fear wasn’t just about him being a vampire; it was about being deceived again by someone she dared to trust.

Dimitri’s expression flashed with a combination of hurt and frustration. He took a step toward her, his hand outstretched as if to bridge the developing chasm between them. “Amelia, I would never lie to you. Not about this. I am baring my soul to you, revealing my deepest secret.”

She shook her head vehemently, backing away from his touch. The room suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in around her. She needed air, space to think, to process the bombshell he had just dropped on her.

“Why now?” she asked, her tone uneven. “Why reveal this to me now?”

“Because I can no longer hide from you, lyubimaya. Nor do I want to. You deserve the truth, even if it means losing you forever.”

Amelia’s thoughts sprinted like a cheetah, her emotions an entangled mess. The very fabric of her reality had shifted,leaving her standing on uncertain ground. When she met his gaze, she saw a glimmer of hope—a hope that perhaps, in spite of everything, she could see beyond the darkness and find the man within.

“If it’s true, then tell me everything,” she demanded, her voice steadying. “No more secrets. If we’re going to figure this out, I need to know everything about you.”

He turned toward the window, looking out at the setting sun on the hillside and the garden beyond. “Very well.”

As if in a trance, Amelia found herself gliding closer to him. Even though the fear still gripped her heart, she couldn’t resist the appeal of curiosity and the magnetic tension between them. The air hissed with electricity, every step she took closing the gap between them until there was only an inch separating their bodies. She could feel his breath on her skin, his gaze burning into hers, and for a moment, she forgot all about trying to keep her distance.

“How did it happen?” she asked, curious and somewhat intrigued. “How did you become...this creature of the night?”

Dimitri sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as if carrying an unbearable burden. “It was 1719,” he began, his accent thickening with the memories. “I was a young nobleman in Russia, living with my family. One horrible night..”

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