The Dawn of Darkness || T. Riddle

Chapter 5: Defy Him

Chapter 5

In her chambers, Estela stood next to the dresser and ran a finger over the black box that was safely hidden within one of the drawers. A familiar spark pricked her skin as the leather touched it – as though what was inside was trying to reach her – trying to call her – trying to force her to re-live a thousand memories. The glistening opal necklace within the black box was tempting her, willing her to just take a peek. It was trying to draw her into a life she had once lived, and remind her of the boy that had once consumed it. She wanted to be reminded of what that was like. All she had to do was open the box...

A knock on the door made her jolt and the box fell out of her hands and landed with a thud on the dresser. She fumbled around, knocking a candle off the dresser as she tried to quickly throw the box back into the drawer, managing to close it just moments before the door to her chambers opened with a creak.

She tried to act natural, leaning against the dresser as she watched the tall figure enter her room. It was a wonder he even knocked, she thought. She was so used to him walking into any room he pleased at any time he deemed desirable. In fact, it was very lucky that he had knocked this time.

He entered with an air of serene confidence surrounding him – powerful and intimidating – and he stopped in the centre of the room to look at her.

"What are you doing?" His voice was laced with a hint of suspicion as he scanned the room, lingering momentarily on the dresser before settling on her.

She pushed off the dresser and made her way over to the two velvet chairs that surrounded a long black coffee table in the centre of her chambers.

"Nothing." She said simply, trying to look at him in a way that would ensure he kept his eyes on her and not flicker over to the dresser.

She sat down and Tom continued to stand in the middle of the room, a look of suspicion etched upon his finely-carved features, before he eventually made his way over to her and sat down in the chair opposite.

Silence fell between them as they both contemplated each other – the faintest glimmer of challenge in their eyes – the softest gleam of distrust.

"You don't listen, do you?" Estela eventually said. Riddle's eyebrow arched, a silent prompt for her to continue. "I thought I made it very clear earlier that your company is unwanted."

The small curve that crept its way onto his lips struck her, and she watched it with caution, the way one would eye a weapon – though this one was beautiful, but just as deadly.

"You need to learn to respect the hierarchy," he countered smoothly, his voice a low hum so intoxicating she was sure the gods themselves would obey each word he spoke. "Anyone else would be dead for speaking to me the way you do."

Estela allowed a smug smile to dance across her lips, relishing the small power she wielded in this moment. "Then why does the mighty Dark Lord allow me to do so?"

"It's refreshing," he said, his deep voice laced with an alluring poison that matched the toxic way he was looking at her. "To talk to someone who doesn't just see me as the man who determines the line between their life and death. To talk to someone who isn't afraid to tell me what they think."

She regarded him – the way he spoke was in a way that would have put the sound of the world's deadliest, most enthralling siren song to shame – the way his eyes stared with a coldness that gleamed with power and control – the way his cheeks hollowed as the dimness of the room covered them in a sleek shadow. Everything about him, his smooth confidence, dark aura, his obvious intellectual brilliance and his striking good looks combined to create an exquisite killer.