His Duchess is a Ghost

14

Alena's advance was halted. The Duke's large hand had seized her wrist, and his other hand pressed firmly on her shoulder, effectively immobilizing her. Alena's eyes widened in shock. Not only because she was again, no longer in her ghost form but in flesh, but also because he seemed to have anticipated her attack!

She gritted her teeth, poised to resist, when the Duke's voice echoed. "Don't," he said calmly, his tone not raised yet carrying an authoritative weight that seemed to command obedience. It was a voice that resonated with an intensity that made even Alena pause, as if her very instincts were wired to heed his command for survival.

"But Milord..." came a shocking deep voice from another man in the room. "Whoever is under your desk is exuding killing intent. I need to—"

"No," Kaztiel interrupted firmly. "I want you to stand outside the door for now, Zilal."

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier with the mention of the name "Zilal," a name that resonated with a chilling familiarity in Alena's mind. She couldn't stop the involuntary shiver that ran down her spine. Zilal, the so called 'Duke Donovian's shadow,' was a figure shrouded in whispers and fear, a man whose very existence was a closely guarded secret among the elite circles of the kingdom.

Alena recalled the numerous conversations she had inadvertently eavesdropped on in the royal palace. Her father and brothers often spoke in hushed tones about this enigmatic figure. To the commoners, he was nothing more than a ghost story, but to those in power, he was a force to be reckoned with. The crown prince himself had once confided that the Duke's invulnerability stemmed from this shadowy protector. Her brother had said that Zilal was like a living shield, ever-present, ever-vigilant, thwarting every attempt on the Duke's life with an almost supernatural efficiency.

Even the most formidable generals spoke of Zilal with a begrudging admiration, dubbing him 'the beast behind the monster that is the Duke.' They claimed that as long as Zilal was alive, the Duke would remain untouchable.

Alena had once doubted these tales, considering them perhaps embellishments of a skilled warrior's reputation. But now, as she sensed the oppressive aura emanating from Zilal and the fact that she never sensed his presence inside the room until the moment the Duke spoke, her skepticism faded. His mere presence invoked an instinctive fear, a warning that any aggressive move towards the Duke would be met with swift and lethal retribution.

Swallowing hard, Alena tried to steady her frayed nerves.

"Don't make me repeat myself," the Duke's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, his tone firm yet devoid of any visible agitation. His focus remained fixed ahead, his golden eyes locked onto where Zilal stood.

A tense, prolonged silence enveloped the room, thick enough to be sliced with a knife.

Finally, the sound of the door opening and then closing signaled Zilal's departure.

Alena found herself releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

In that charged moment, when the Duke finally directed his gaze downward, their eyes locked in a silent confrontation. Alena mustered all her dignity and strength to meet his stare unflinchingly. Her eyes, fierce and accusing, bore into his, communicating a depth of anger and betrayal that words could never fully express. If looks could have physical force, the Duke might have perished under her intense glare, struck down a thousand times over.

"I have to warn you, Duchess," he spoke, his voice even and devoid of any discernible emotion. His face, as expressionless as a statue, betrayed nothing of his thoughts. "Never attack me like this when that man is around because he could really hurt you before I could stop him."

A disbelieving, almost sardonic smile crept onto Alena's lips. "So good of you to remind me like this, Duke," she replied. She couldn't believe the irony of the situation – being warned by her enemy about her own safety.

The Duke remained silent, his golden eyes simply remained locked onto hers. There was a depth in his gaze, a complexity that seemed to thicken the air between them. What's with that look...

It was then that the full extent of her undignified position finally struck Alena. She was trapped between the Duke's legs, not just kneeling but with her face alarmingly close to his... crotch.

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