Page 17 of The Immortal’s One (Bound to the Immortals #1)

“My home.”

I frown and look back at her. “ Your home?”

“Yes.” She nods, then hesitates. “Well… I suppose it’s mine and Thane’s.”

With each word, my confusion deepens. “Are you two siblings?”

Other than their brown eyes, she and Thane don’t look alike.

“No.” She laughs lightly. “Thane is my husband.”

I rear back. “You’re married?”

She looks younger than me, maybe by a couple of years.

“Yes.” Bella brightens. “Happily married.”

“That’s… great.” I bite the inside of my cheek. Was Thane wearing a wedding ring when we hung out? I have no idea. It wasn’t something I thought to look for. “So, uh… where is your house located, exactly?”

Her features dim. “I’m sorry, Darcie. I’m not sure I should tell you that.”

My stomach drops. “How do you know my name?”

She pinches her lips together, her eyes flicking nervously. “I’m not sure I should tell you that, either.”

Alarm bells ring in my head. They've been going off since Evetta trapped me in that grocery store bathroom, but they dulled during the disorienting walk through the grassy field and when I admired the fancy mansion around me. But now… they’re deafening.

“None of this makes sense,” I say to myself, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, lifting her chin and offering me another kind smile. “You must be tired. Come, let’s go to my rooms to rest while we wait for the others.”

There’s no point in arguing. It sucks, but I’m at the mercy of these people. I can only hope that complying means they’ll be more likely to take me back home as soon as possible.

I dip my chin in reluctant acceptance.

“This way.” Bella leads me down the hallway, her footsteps light and quick on the polished floors.

We soon reach a wide staircase. As I climb, my fingers graze the intricate carvings along the dark wood banister. The design is a maze of roses and thorns that twist around a delicate vine, each detail painstakingly etched with remarkable precision.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Bella glances back at me with a knowing smile as my fingers trace the carvings.

I tuck my hand to my side, suddenly self-conscious. “Very.”

“It’s one of the finest pieces of woodwork in the house.” Pride fills her voice. She resumes climbing the stairs with ease. “Des was very dedicated to his carpentry phase.”

Des?

I freeze mid-step, my foot hovering in the air as awareness crashes through me like a tidal wave. My heart skips a beat, then picks up speed as I process the name.

“Darcie?” Bella's brow furrows as she comes to a stop. “Is everything alright?”

I swallow hard, nausea crawling up my throat. “Who is Des?”

She tilts her head. “You… you don’t know Des?”

I shake my head. The knot in my stomach tightens.

Hesitation flickers in her eyes. She sighs. “You’ll have to forgive him. He often forgets his manners. ”

The words carry a weight that isn’t lost on me. There’s something Bella isn’t telling me.

She continues, her voice softer now, “Des is the name of the man you arrived with.”

I knew that’s what she was going to say…

“Oh…” I look down at the carved banister.

Where have I heard that name before?

Bella resumes walking up the stairs. I follow, my attention no longer on the beautiful home around me.

Didn’t Evetta tell me to stay away from someone named Desmond?

I’d bet my future college tuition that Des is short for Desmond.

Were the three women in the bathroom acting on his behalf? They sure made it seem that way. But then… why would he save me?

Is Des a danger to me? My gut still says no.

The man is abrasive, but I can’t forget how he looked when he found me in the bathroom. Or how furious he became after seeing my neck.

My fingers travel up to my throat and trace the marks I haven’t had the chance to see.

No.

Des might be a jerk, but he saved me. He has my tentative trust. As much trust as I can have for a stranger who helped me get out of a dangerous situation while also making women disappear in flashes of blinding white light.

And dragging me here against my will.

We reach the second floor. Bella walks down a hallway, stopping in front of a set of oak doors with gleaming bronze handles.

“This is my room.” She swings one door open, then pauses. “Well, my personal sitting room. My bedroom is attached to Thane’s suite.”

That’s an odd sleeping arrangement for a husband and wife.

Keeping the thought to myself, I step inside.

The room is gorgeous, like a scene plucked straight from a dream.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the far wall, framed by pale blue curtains that match the delicate flowers on the wallpaper adorning the remaining walls.

The rest of the space is a study in soft, soothing neutrals—plush armchairs and a fainting couch in creamy hues, accented by silky purple pillows that pop like vibrant jewels.

But it’s the ceiling that truly takes my breath away. Another impossibly beautiful fresco sprawls above us. A man and a woman stand beneath an altar draped in bright, vivid flowers, surrounded by a crowd of people whose faces are masked by shadows.

Only the couple’s features stand out. Their eyes filled with such palpable, intense adoration that viewing their love feels almost like an intrusion.

The artist captured more than devotion in those eyes—something timeless.

The fresco is a masterpiece that rivals the work of Italian Renaissance artists I’ve seen in countless cathedrals and museums across Europe.

“Do you like it?” Bella steps beside me, tilting her head back to admire the painting. “It’s my favorite fresco in the house.”

I drop my chin and stare at the young woman next to me. This magnificent place can’t be in the United States. If it were, my historian father would’ve taken me to visit it. Or he would have at least talked about it.

My hands begin to tremble. I curl them into fists. For the third time since I regained consciousness, I ask, “Where am I?”

The lightness in Bella’s expression fades, replaced with guarded hesitation. “I told you… I don’t think I should…”

“Please.” I lick my dry lips. “This place… this room tells me I’m not anywhere close to home. And I’m afraid. Please… just tell me where I am.”

“Don’t answer that, Bella.”

My heart stutters as I turn toward the door. There, framed in the doorway like some ominous shadow, stands the man I now know is named Des. He’s flanked by two men I recognize.

Thane and Lome stand with their arms crossed, meeting my accusing stare. Thane’s expression is unreadable, while Lome’s reveals a hint of regret.

“Why not?” Bella’s challenges quietly. “Doesn’t she have a right to know?”

Tension thickens the air.

“She doesn’t have the right to know anything.” Des’s voice cuts through the room, brusque and final. The words land like a blow. “I’m taking her home as soon as we agree never to speak of this again.”

His words should come as a relief. And they do.

I want to go home, but at the same time, the need for answers gnaws at me. I’ve been thrown into a situation I don’t understand, surrounded by strangers who know far more about me than I do about them.

And when I realize just how desperately Des wants to withhold those answers, the urge to push for them becomes unbearable.

“She has every right.” Bella’s voice is steady and defiant, unfazed by Des’s fierce declaration. “And you know it. ”

He scowls, stalking into the room. The muscles in his arms and chest flex as he walks, and I can’t help but notice how the knot in my stomach tightens with each step he takes. He’s so intense, and it’s oddly… hot.

You’re so messed up, Darcie. He kidnapped you. Stop checking him out.

My eyes snap up from admiring his thick thighs when he stops walking. He leans forward to grip the back of the sofa, glaring in Bella’s direction. “You are letting wishful thinking dictate your actions.”

His voice is low and controlled, like a man used to being obeyed. A sharp tug urges me to move closer. I plant my feet on the ground.

How is it that someone who makes my stomach twist with fear can also give me the strangest sense of safety? It doesn’t make sense.

Thane steps forward and wraps an arm around Bella’s shoulders, drawing her closer as if to shield her from the storm brewing between her and Des. Meanwhile, Lome sits in one of the plush chairs across the room, crossing one leg over the other as though he’s settling in for a show.

Déjà vu hits me like a freight train.

I’ve seen a scene like this before…

“Be reasonable, Des,” Thane’s voice cuts through my confusion. “From what you told me, it’s clear others know of Darcie’s existence. Her life is at risk, and she deserves to know why.”

Cold sweat rolls down my spine.

Des’s hazel eyes blaze with fury. “The only reason others know about her is because you and Lome decided to pay her a visit this morning and led Evetta right to her.”

What? !

Lome joins the conversation. “Don’t be obtuse, Des. You know it was only a matter of time before someone found her. We’re just lucky we got to her first,” he chides.

“You are wrong.” Des’s nostrils flare, and his hands dig into the sofa. “Twice now, your actions have led to her being attacked. It is your fault she is in danger.”

Twice?!

Thane huffs with a satisfied smirk. “I thought the attack at the mortal club was committed by humans who have no association with our kind.”

Even from here, I can see the muscle feathering in Des’s jaw. “I’m not above admitting I was wrong, but the fact remains, whoever hired those humans to hurt Darcie did so because you drew attention to her.”

“Then it’s a good thing we were at the club to stop them.”

“You’re missing the point,” Des growls at his brother. He flings a hand over at me. “Your interest in her has made her a target. Now, our enemies will come for her, and it is all your fault.”

Heavy silence settles over the room.

My heartbeat accelerates as I try to figure out what the hell these people are talking about.

Mortal club?

Humans?

Another wave of déjà vu crashes over me.

A gasp rips from my throat.

Men stepping out between shadows… Meaty hands holding me down… A heavy body pressing into my back… Des and Thane standing over me after they dispatched the thugs who attacked me, then listening to them argue about me being or not being The One .

Memories— true memories of my night at the Portland club with Kayla assail my senses. The pain in my ribs radiates through my body all over again. The fear of not knowing what will happen to me after I'm taken floods my veins with ice.

I stumble back and bump into a round table. All eyes in the room focus on me.

My body shakes uncontrollably. I clutch onto the table's edge, my eyes darting between the four people in front of me.

“Darcie?” Thane releases his wife and takes a cautious step in my direction. “Are you all right?”

My voice trembles. “W-who are you people? What… what have you done to my head?”

“Shit.” Lome runs a hand down his face. “The Masking wore off.”

My attention zeros in on him. “What’s a Masking?”

Lome casts a wary glance at his brothers.

Thane coughs, drawing my gaze. “A Masking of a memory. We removed certain memories from you. Memories, I assume, you’ve now regained access to.”

Dread claws into my throat. “What about my friends?”

I just had brunch with Kayla this morning. We talked about our night out in Portland. We talked about our ride home together—a ride that never happened. What did they do to her?

Thane shifts his weight between his feet but holds his head high. “We did what needed to be done.”

Beside him, Bella shakes her head once.

I’ve heard enough.

Somehow, these people have the ability to manipulate people's minds. And they can access my friends to do it…

Forget getting answers. I want to leave. Now .

I turn to the one person in the room who's just as eager for me to go home as I am. “Please take me home. ”

Des’s expression is unreadable, his body rigid.

Bella murmurs, “He can’t.”

Desperate eyes snap to her. “Why not? I don’t want to be here. Shouldn’t that matter?”

“We can’t let you go because it’s not safe.” Bella turns to Des to silence his impending objection. “No matter what you say, you know it's true. Our enemies won’t stop going after her.”

“What do you mean, ‘enemies’?” My voice comes out shrill and panicked. “Who the hell are you people?”

The brothers exchange loaded looks. Des’s hazel eyes harden as he stares at Lome and Thane, the latter of which’s nostrils flare. Lome chews the inside of his cheek. No one speaks.

White-hot rage flares to life in my chest, overshadowing my lingering fear. “Will someone answer me? Haven’t you played enough mind games on me at this point?” I demand.

A feminine voice cuts through the silence. "Enough, indeed."

A tall, willowy woman with warm, tan skin steps through the open door. Brown eyes lined with thick coal meet mine. Her expression has no warmth, but she doesn’t look indifferent. If anything, she stares at me with pity. Which is why I suspect she gives me an answer I’m so desperate to hear.

Her gaze never wavers. “We are Immortals, Darcie...”

A gasp tears from my throat.

Immortals?

What the hell is she talking about?

In quick, disorienting flashes, all the unusual things that have happened since I was attacked at Robertson’s hit me like a slap to the face.

My attackers disappearing in bursts of white light …

Losing and regaining my memories…

The strange pull urging me to close the distance between me and Des…

There’s no ignoring it any longer: something supernatural is going on here… This mystery woman just confirmed it.

But she isn’t done.

Without a hint of hesitation, she delivers a devastating blow, her words heavy with the weight of something irreversible. “…And we believe you are one of us.”