Chapter 857 - Desire
"That is the girl you need to bring down."
The voice inside her spoke.
Her eyes lingered on Irina for a moment longer than necessary before she tore her gaze away, a faint clench in her jaw betraying the irritation simmering beneath her composed exterior. She had more important things to concern herself with.
Yet, before she could take another step, a voice called out from the crowd.
"Maya!"
A fellow sophomore, a girl named Elaine, weaved her way through the bustling cadets to reach her. Elaine was friendly, competent, and someone Maya had worked with on multiple occasions. Normally, she wouldn't mind the company, but right now…
Elaine grinned, oblivious to the storm quietly brewing within Maya. "We're heading to the lounge for a bit. Want to come with us?"
Maya hesitated.
A few months ago, she wouldn't have thought twice about agreeing. Spending time with her classmates, strengthening relationships, maintaining a presence—that was the natural order of things.
But right now, her mind was elsewhere. The irritation from earlier still clung to her like an unwanted presence, the words she had overheard, the pictures she had seen—they refused to leave her thoughts.
Not to mention the faint whispers of her other self, lurking at the edges of her consciousness.
"Look at her."
"Standing there so confidently, so sure of herself."
"And you? You're here. Wasting time."
Maya's fingers curled slightly at her sides, her nails pressing faintly into her palms.
She didn't have the patience for this today.
"I'll pass," she said, her voice perfectly polite but carrying no room for argument.
Elaine blinked, clearly surprised. "Oh. Are you busy?"
Maya simply nodded. "Something I need to take care of."
Elaine didn't push further, sensing the finality in Maya's tone. "Alright, maybe next time." With that, she turned back to join the others, her excitement unbothered.
Maya exhaled slowly.
She needed to cool her head down.
******
The crisp evening air greeted Maya as she stepped onto the academy's expansive training grounds. The echoes of sparring cadets filled the space, the clashing of weapons and the occasional burst of mana-infused techniques blending into the rhythmic hum of combat.
She barely spared the others a glance as she moved with purpose, her path set toward the Elemental Chamber—her usual refuge.
"You should be doing something."
Her other self's voice slithered into her thoughts, smooth yet laced with impatience.
Maya exhaled sharply through her nose, her pace unwavering. "I am."
"No, you're distracting yourself. Again." The voice scoffed. "You saw her. You heard them. Irina Emberheart stands there like she's untouchable, and you're here, avoiding the inevitable."
Maya's jaw tightened, but she didn't deny it.
She had seen Irina's confidence—how she carried herself, how she seemed utterly unbothered by anything. Even after everything that had happened, after the rumors, after the whispers, Irina moved as though she was always in control.
That fact grated against Maya more than she was willing to admit.
And her other self knew it.
"You don't have the luxury of waiting anymore," the voice pressed, its tone sharper now. "I told you—she's the one standing in your way. If you don't move first, she'll take everything from you."
Maya's fingers twitched at her sides. She knew that.
But things had been moving too fast. She had barely had the time to think about how to act, how to strike properly.
Too much had happened—her realization about her other self, the confrontation with Irina at the infirmary, the storm of emotions that had been suffocating her since. And through it all, Astron's presence remained at the center.
She couldn't deny that he was a part of this equation.
Irina wasn't just standing tall on her own—she was standing beside him.
And that…
That bothered her.
"You agree with me, don't you?" her other self whispered, softer now, coaxing. "You know I'm right. You know what you need to do. So why aren't you acting?"
Maya stepped past the training rings, heading toward the isolated structure of the Elemental Chamber. The building shimmered faintly under the mana-infused lights, its crystalline walls humming with power.
She reached for the door and pushed it open. The familiar rush of concentrated mana filled her lungs as she stepped inside.
Silence.
Here, away from the noise of the academy, away from prying eyes, she could finally breathe.
Maya let her satchel slip from her shoulder, landing lightly against the smooth marble floor. She exhaled deeply, rolling her shoulders as she turned her thoughts inward.
"You're asking why I haven't acted?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her other self was silent for a moment, before responding, "Yes."
Maya closed her eyes, feeling the raw energy of the chamber pulse around her. "Because I need time."
A sharp, bitter laugh echoed in her mind. "Time? Time for what?"
"Time to think," she answered, her voice steady but laced with frustration. "I won't act impulsively."
Maya stood in the center of the Elemental Chamber, the air around her thick with latent mana. The ambient energy pulsed against her skin, like a silent reminder of her presence, of her control. But inside, her mind was anything but steady.
Her own words echoed back at her.
"I won't act impulsively."
Yet, the moment she said it, something felt… off.
She had been acting impulsively.
Time and time again, whenever Astron was involved, she had let herself act without thinking—stepping in, inserting herself into his business, demanding something that she never defined. And Astron, for all his patience, had tolerated it.
But did he like it?
Her breath hitched slightly at the thought. The answer was clear.
No.
Maya wasn't foolish enough to deny it. She had watched him carefully—studied his every move, his reactions, the way his gaze sometimes flickered with something unreadable whenever she spoke. He had never outright rejected her presence, but neither had he welcomed it.
He simply let it happen.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
This was why she was controlling herself now. Why she wasn't storming forward like before. She needed to think. To understand.
She wouldn't make the mistake of pushing too far. Not again.
And yet—
Laughter echoed in her mind, dark and mocking.
"Ah, so that's it."
Maya's eyes narrowed.
"You're afraid."
She straightened, her spine stiffening. "That's not true."
Her other self hummed, amused. "No? Then what else would you call it? You've never hesitated before. You always went after what you wanted. But now? You're frozen. You tell yourself it's for control, but let's be honest, Maya—you're scared."
Maya clenched her jaw. "I'm being careful. That's different."
The laughter came again, softer this time, curling through her thoughts like smoke. "Careful? Or hesitant?"
Maya inhaled sharply, steadying herself. "I'm thinking. For once, I'm thinking before I act. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"
Her other self sighed, almost disappointed. "You're hesitating because you fear the answer. You fear that if you push too hard, he'll reject you. That if you stand your ground, if you stop dancing around your feelings, you'll lose him."
Maya's breath came slower now, measured and even.
It wasn't wrong.
But it wasn't right either.
She wasn't hesitating because she feared losing him. She was hesitating because she was trying to respect his boundaries, not just her own.
That was the difference.
"That's why you don't get it," Maya murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't understand what it means to care about someone outside of yourself."
"What did you say?"
But then once again her world turned crimson.
Chapter 858 - Desire (2)
"What did you say?"
The crimson bled into her vision, slow at first, then all at once.
Like ink seeping through paper, the colors of the Elemental Chamber dulled, swallowed by an overwhelming shade of red. The pulsing mana that once hummed softly around her now roared like a storm in her ears, thick and suffocating.
Maya staggered.
Her breath hitched, her hands flying to her temples as the air around her turned heavy—dense, oppressive, crushing. Her body knew this feeling. The creeping, smoldering hunger curling at the edges of her mind. The sharp, almost intoxicating pulse that accompanied it.
Her other self was furious.
"You don't understand?" the voice whispered, low and venomous, curling around her like a viper. "You think I don't understand?"
The pressure in her skull spiked. A burning heat coiled in her chest, twisting through her veins, demanding to be felt, demanding to be acknowledged.
Then, laughter—dark and edged with something raw, something dangerous.
"You think this is about caring?" the voice sneered, echoing in the chamber like a chorus of ghosts. "You really are a fool, Maya. Caring? What a pathetic excuse. Do you want to know the truth?"
Maya's breath came in short, shallow gasps. Her vision swam, the red deepening, consuming everything. And beneath it all, something darker, something primal, unfurled its claws.
Hunger.
A terrible, aching thirst.
Her body locked up, heat burning through her limbs, her fingers twitching as if longing to reach for something—someone.
The unbearable pull.
Her lips parted slightly, her tongue dry against the roof of her mouth. The thought slithered through her mind like a whisper of temptation, like a forgotten instinct reawakening from the depths of her soul.
His blood.
Her nails pressed into her palms, hard enough to break skin.
"He was the only one."
The voice came softer this time—no longer mocking, but cold, distant.
"The only one I could feel in that darkness."
Maya's breath hitched as the words slithered through her mind, wrapping around her like chains. The crimson haze pulsed, suffocating in its intensity, and the weight pressing against her chest became unbearable.
Her other self wasn't just angry.
She was grieving.
"When I had nothing, when the world was silent, when even you faded away, he was there."
The voice wavered, but not with hesitation—with conviction.
"You, who have seen the world, who have walked through it, touched it, breathed it—you will never understand that feeling. Nor do you want to."
The words struck like a dagger, raw and dripping with something deeper than rage.
"So don't ever talk about 'caring' as if you've figured me out."
A violent pulse of mana erupted from Maya's core, cracking the air around her. The chamber quaked, its crystalline walls warping, the mana-infused lights above flickering as if suffocating under the weight of her emotions.
But Maya…
Maya held her ground.
She gritted her teeth, the sharp tang of iron in her mouth as she forced herself to breathe—to resist the overwhelming pull.
The room trembled, but she did not.
She would not.
Her eyes, still drowning in crimson, burned with defiance. The hunger clawed at her ribs, her instincts screaming at her to yield, to fall, to give in. But she fought it—fought the weight of her own emotions, fought against the darker self that threatened to consume her.
"You're wrong," Maya murmured, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.
A low, bitter chuckle. "Am I?"
Maya exhaled sharply, hands unfurling from their clenched state. She no longer trembled. She no longer recoiled.
"Yeah… that is just unhealthy."
Maya's voice cut through the storm of her mind, cold and certain.
Her other self hissed. "Unhealthy… coming from someone like you?"
Maya didn't flinch. Didn't engage.
Because this was pointless.
This argument, this cycle—it never ended. Her other self would always push, always claw, always try to pull her into that dark, suffocating abyss. And if she kept letting it consume her thoughts, she would never break free.
She exhaled, long and slow, and released the tension coiling in her shoulders.
Enough.
Without another word, she turned away, letting the lingering echoes of her other self's anger fizzle into the background. She ignored the way the crimson still pulsed faintly at the edges of her vision, ignored the phantom hunger that gnawed at the back of her mind.
She needed to focus.
Lowering herself onto the smooth floor of the Elemental Chamber, she crossed her legs into a lotus position, placing her hands lightly on her knees. The mana in the room still thrummed with unease, reacting to the storm she had just barely contained. But she had no intention of letting it linger.
Her breathing slowed.
Her pulse steadied.
Her thoughts narrowed into one purpose—control.
She let her mana flow, not forcefully, not recklessly, but with precision. The ambient energy around her bent to her will, forming into the familiar, delicate patterns she had practiced a thousand times before.
Slow. Measured. Exact.
She had done this countless times—calming her mind, pushing out distractions, sharpening herself into a perfect edge. It was methodical, something she could hold onto when everything else threatened to spiral out of control.
And yet—
Something shifted.
A flicker at the edge of her awareness.
A presence.
Not unfamiliar… but not entirely familiar either.
Her eyes snapped open.
"Hmm?"
She turned her head slightly, sensing the weight of a gaze lingering on her from the entrance of the chamber.
"Hello."
A voice. Low, even, and carefully controlled.
A young man stepped into the dim glow of the chamber's mana-infused light, his sharp blue eyes studying her with an expression that sent a faint ripple of irritation down her spine.
Trevor Philips.
Maya's expression remained unreadable as she regarded her classmate.
"Trevor."
She greeted him with a simple nod, keeping her voice neutral.
"What brings you here?"
Trevor didn't answer immediately. Instead, he just… looked at her.
That same look.
Maya's fingers twitched against her knee before she forced them to still.
She didn't like his gaze.
She hadn't liked it for a long time.
Even her other self, usually so consumed with its own obsessions, stirred in displeasure.
"Tch."
A faint noise echoed in her mind, a rare moment of agreement between them.
Trevor's eyes, sharp and unreadable, lingered on her for just a second too long.
Maya's jaw tensed.
She really disliked this gaze.
"Trevor?"
Her voice was sharper this time, cutting through the thick silence that had settled between them.
Trevor blinked, as if surfacing from deep thought. Then, almost too casually, he let out a short chuckle.
"Ahaha… sorry. I just spaced out."
Maya's lips pressed into a thin line.
He didn't look like someone who had just 'spaced out.'
His gaze lingered again—just a second longer than necessary. Not with open hostility, nor admiration, nor anything easily decipherable. Just that same unreadable, unwavering stare.
Maya's patience thinned.
Without a word, she shifted slightly, tilting her chin up just enough to signal the silent question hanging in the air.
Why are you here?
Her piercing blue eyes carried the same question as her voice when she finally spoke.
"Then? What brings you here?"
Trevor exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, as if realizing that ignoring the question wasn't an option.
But he didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he just watched her again, his expression unreadable.
Maya's fingers twitched against her knee.
She had never liked this feeling—the way he looked at her, the way his presence always carried a weight she couldn't quite place.
And neither did her other self.
"This guy."
A muttered thought, low and sharp, curled in the back of her mind.
Maya ignored it, but her body remained still, waiting.
Trevor finally shifted his weight slightly, his posture loose but deliberate.
"Can we have a talk?"
Chapter 859 - Desire (3)
"Can we have a talk?"
Maya's eyebrows lifted slightly.
Talk?
She studied him, her expression unreadable, but inwardly, she was already analyzing the situation. Trevor Philips was not someone who casually sought her out. In fact, he usually kept his distance, never making unnecessary contact unless required. For him to come here—directly, deliberately—felt out of place.
"For what reason?"
Her words were measured, her tone laced with a quiet skepticism.
Trevor scratched the back of his neck, his stance shifting into something vaguely awkward. "It's… a little bit private."
Private?
Maya's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I don't remember us having anything that we would need to talk about privately."
Her words came evenly, but the message was clear. There was no connection between them that warranted secrecy. No unfinished business. No ties.
Trevor, however, didn't back down.
"It's important," he said, not forceful, but insistent.
Maya didn't answer immediately. She could feel the quiet hum of irritation brewing beneath her skin—not just her own, but her other self's.
"I don't like this guy."
A whisper. Sharp. Immediate.
Maya exhaled through her nose, eyes flickering slightly before she answered in her mind.
"Neither do I. But let's hear him out."
Her other self scoffed but didn't argue.
Maya turned back to Trevor, her posture still composed, still guarded.
"Fine," she said simply.
Trevor's lips twitched—not quite a full smile, but something close.
"Thanks."
Maya didn't acknowledge the gratitude. Instead, she stood, dusting off her uniform before tilting her head slightly.
"We'll talk," she said, her tone making it clear that she was still keeping her distance. "But somewhere neutral."
Trevor nodded, seeming to expect that answer.
The two left the Elemental Chamber, stepping into the cool evening air. Maya kept her pace steady, relaxed—but her senses remained sharp.
There was a restaurant inside the academy, one designed for cadets who preferred something quieter than the usual cafeteria setting. It wasn't particularly crowded at this hour, which made it a perfect location—public enough to prevent anything strange, private enough for conversation.
As they settled into their seats, Trevor glanced around the restaurant before turning his attention back to Maya.
"You come here often?"
Maya leaned back slightly in her chair, her posture relaxed but composed. "I do," she answered, keeping her tone neutral but not cold.
Despite keeping her guard up, she wasn't about to make it obvious. Trevor was still a classmate, and she had no particular quarrel with him. There was no reason to treat him differently than she would anyone else.
Trevor nodded as if he had expected that answer. "Makes sense. This place has a quieter atmosphere. Not a lot of people, no unnecessary noise." His fingers idly traced the edge of the menu before setting it aside. "Feels like the kind of place you'd prefer."
Maya hummed in response.
Trevor tilted his head slightly. "You always come alone?"
"Sometimes," she admitted. "Depends on my mood."
Trevor let out a quiet chuckle. "Figures." He leaned back in his chair, looking around once more before returning his gaze to her. "You don't seem like the type who enjoys too much noise around you."
Maya simply lifted a brow. "Is that supposed to mean something?"
Trevor smirked, but it was faint, fleeting. "Just an observation."
Maya didn't react, letting the conversation flow naturally. Trevor, for the most part, was doing most of the talking—not in a way that was overwhelming, but rather like someone who didn't mind filling the space between words.
"You always give off this impression, you know?" Trevor continued, tilting his head slightly.
Maya didn't respond immediately. It wasn't the first time someone had pointed that out, and it wouldn't be the last.
"I don't think that's a bad thing," he added quickly, almost as if clarifying. "Just different."
Maya met his gaze, searching for something in his expression, but Trevor remained unreadable—calm, casual, but with a certain weight behind his words.
She wasn't sure she liked that.
"Different from what?" she asked.
Trevor exhaled, a small chuckle escaping. "Most people, I guess. But maybe that's what makes you interesting."
Maya remained silent for a moment before responding. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or something else."
Trevor shrugged. "Whichever way you want."
The conversation was smooth, effortless in its pacing, yet there was an underlying tension. It wasn't overt, but Maya could feel it—the slight pauses, the careful way Trevor picked his words, as if he was feeling out the boundaries of the conversation.
Despite that, she continued speaking normally, matching his energy, not giving away anything beyond what she intended to.
Maya exhaled quietly, resting her elbow on the table and propping her chin against her palm. She had entertained the small talk long enough, but Trevor wasn't the type to ramble without a reason.
She was growing tired of waiting.
"Trevor," she said, voice calm but laced with unmistakable expectation. "If you have something to say, then say it."
Trevor studied her for a moment before nodding. "Fair enough."
He leaned back in his chair, tapping a single finger against the table in thought before finally speaking.
"I came here to talk about something that I noticed."
Maya's eyes narrowed slightly. "You noticed?"
Trevor nodded. "Yeah. And it's about Astron Natusalune."
Her posture didn't change, but internally, something stilled.
Astron?
Trevor wasn't particularly close to Astron, at least not in any way that Maya had ever taken note of. He wasn't part of his inner circle, and he wasn't one of the many cadets who actively competed with or against him. So why was he bringing him up now?
She kept her voice steady. "Go on."
Trevor drummed his fingers against the tabletop once before continuing.
Trevor drummed his fingers against the tabletop once before continuing.
"Astron and Irina." His voice was measured, casual, but there was something calculated beneath it. "Their relationship has been all over the academy forums lately."
Maya remained silent.
She had seen it, of course. The whispers, the speculation, the clips taken from nowhere, dissected and thrown into the public eye.
Trevor continued, his gaze sharp, gauging her reaction. "You've noticed it too, right? How close they've gotten?"
Maya's fingers curled slightly against the table, but she kept her expression neutral. "What are you trying to say, Trevor?"
He exhaled, leaning forward slightly. "I just find it interesting, that's all. You and Astron—" he gestured vaguely, "—have always had a connection, haven't you?"
Maya didn't answer, but Trevor took her silence as confirmation.
"But now, he's with Irina. He's standing beside her, letting her speak for him, fight for him, even take the blows meant for him." His voice lowered slightly, just enough to sound conspiratorial. "And you're still on the sidelines, watching."
Her eyes darkened for a split second.
Trevor caught it.
He smirked. "I think you should be careful, Maya."
Maya slowly exhaled through her nose. "Careful of what?"
Trevor leaned back, his smirk deepening slightly, but his words were deliberate. "Astron isn't the kind of guy you think he is."
Maya's gaze remained steady, but there was something colder in it now. "And what exactly do I think he is?"
Trevor tilted his head slightly. "Someone you can trust."
The air between them seemed to tighten, a subtle shift in tension that Trevor either didn't notice or chose to ignore. He continued, his tone calm, almost persuasive.
"I think he's using you."
Maya's fingers twitched slightly against the smooth surface of the table.
Trevor kept going. "Look at how things have been playing out. Whenever something happens, you get involved, don't you? But does he ever ask for it? Does he ever acknowledge what you do?"
Maya's lips parted slightly, but no words came.
Trevor took that as an opening.
"You step in, you fight, you get caught in the mess, and he—" Trevor let out a small, breathy chuckle, "—he just lets it happen. He doesn't stop you, but he doesn't need to, does he? Because you go to him anyway."
Maya's jaw tightened.
Trevor leaned forward again, dropping his voice to a near whisper. "That's not trust, Maya. That's manipulation."
A second passed.
Then—
"Who the fuck are you?"
Chapter 860 - Desire (4)
Trevor sat with a calculated ease, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on the surface of the table. The low ambient hum of the restaurant barely registered in his mind—his focus was entirely on her.
Maya.
She sat across from him, her posture poised yet guarded, her amber eyes sharp beneath that composed exterior. She had always been careful, always unreadable, but that was fine.
'She doesn't need to trust me. Not yet. This is about planting the seed.'
His smirk remained subdued, carefully measured. He wasn't here to overwhelm her—he was here to build something.
Something real.
Or at least, something that she would come to see as real.
'She's never been the type to act on impulse. Everything with her is methodical, restrained. She calculates before she moves.'
Trevor leaned back slightly, fingers still absently running along the table. 'But everyone—everyone—has a moment of weakness. Even her.'
And that moment was now.
It wasn't difficult to orchestrate. The academy's forums had already been running rampant with pictures of Astron and Irina together. Speculation. Whispers. The usual nonsense that spread like wildfire in places like this.
He didn't need to fabricate anything—he only needed to redirect her perspective.
And so far, it was working beautifully.
Maya had listened, silent but attentive. She hadn't brushed him off or walked away—not immediately, at least. That was the first step.
'She's already questioning it, even if she won't admit it.'
Trevor took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down with careful precision. Every move, every word—it was all about pacing.
He had been easing her into the topic, starting light before slowly laying the foundation. A few comments about Astron. A casual mention of Irina. A quiet observation about Maya watching from the sidelines.
And now, the hook.
"You and Astron—" he gestured vaguely, as if the relationship between them was a given. "—have always had a connection, haven't you?"
He watched her closely. The smallest flicker of something crossed her face, but she didn't answer.
Trevor grinned inwardly.
'Good. That means she's thinking about it.'
He continued, voice smooth, casual, not pushing—but guiding.
"But now, he's with Irina. He's standing beside her, letting her speak for him, fight for him, even take the blows meant for him."
Trevor let his words hang in the air before lowering his voice, just enough to sound conspiratorial.
"And you're still on the sidelines, watching."
That flicker in her expression—again.
He resisted the urge to smirk. He knew that look. The tiniest shift in awareness, the first sign of doubt creeping in.
'There it is. That moment. The crack.'
Trevor pressed forward, his tone still controlled, still measured.
"I think you should be careful, Maya."
Her eyes sharpened. "Careful of what?"
Trevor pretended to hesitate, tilting his head slightly, as if reluctant to say it outright. As if he was simply looking out for her.
"Astron isn't the kind of guy you think he is," he said finally.
Her gaze didn't waver, but the air between them shifted.
Trevor held it for a beat before continuing, keeping his voice level, persuasive.
"I think he's using you."
A pause. Subtle—but noticeable.
Trevor watched her fingers curl slightly against the table.
He almost wanted to laugh. This was too easy.
'She won't admit it. Not right now. But the thought is already in her head.'
Trevor leaned forward slightly, closing the distance just enough to make the conversation feel personal, almost intimate.
"Look at how things have been playing out," he continued, his voice dropping just a fraction, pulling her in. "Whenever something happens, you get involved, don't you? But does he ever ask for it? Does he ever acknowledge what you do?"
Maya's lips parted slightly—but no words came out.
Trevor inwardly reveled in the silence.
'She can't answer. Because she knows I'm right.'
That was the beauty of it. He wasn't telling her what to believe—he was simply nudging her toward the truth.
Her truth.
"You step in, you fight, you get caught in the mess," Trevor let out a small, almost sympathetic chuckle. "And he—" he gave a slight shrug, "—he just lets it happen. He doesn't stop you, but he doesn't need to, does he? Because you go to him anyway."
Silence.
And then—
"Who the fuck are you?"
Trevor blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sudden venom in her voice.
His mind momentarily froze.
He had anticipated many things—hesitation, denial, even quiet acceptance—but not this.
Not Maya's voice, sharp and biting, tearing through the air like a blade.
"Who the fuck are you?"
It hit him like a cold slap to the face.
His smirk wavered. His carefully composed demeanor cracked for the first time since sitting down. His fingers twitched slightly on the tabletop, a small, involuntary reaction as he processed what he had just heard.
'Did… did she just swear at me?'
Maya never swore. Ever.
Trevor had watched her for months. She was always the same—smiling, soft-spoken, gentle.
She was the type of person who offered snacks to people who forgot their lunch. The one who helped others study even when she didn't have to. The one who comforted cadets who were struggling, who made everyone feel at ease.
Maya Evergreen was pure. Innocent.
And yet—
Right now—
Right now, the girl sitting across from him wasn't that Maya.
"What?"
Trevor barely recognized his own voice. He had meant to sound collected, casual, but there was a shake in it that he couldn't quite mask.
Something was wrong.
It started with her eyes.
They weren't the warm, sky-blue he was used to seeing.
They were—red.
Crimson.
Not a flicker of light reflecting from the restaurant's dim glow, not some trick of the shadows.
No.
Her eyes had changed.
Trevor felt something—something primal, something his body registered before his mind could catch up.
Fear.
The air around her had shifted.
A strange, unnatural pressure oozed from her very being. It wasn't visible, but Trevor could feel it, like the distant rumble of a storm about to break.
His heartbeat quickened.
'What the hell is this?'
Her lips were covered, as always, hidden behind that veil of cloth she never removed. But it didn't matter.
Because what radiated from her was pure, suffocating intensity.
A presence that made the hairs on the back of Trevor's neck stand on end.
He swallowed, realizing for the first time that he had instinctively leaned back.
Away from her.
His fingers curled into his palm beneath the table, nails digging into his skin to force himself to focus.
'Calm down. Get a grip.'
But his instincts weren't wrong.
Something was wrong with Maya.
And for the first time since he had started this conversation—since he had even come up with this plan—Trevor felt something slip out of his control.
Because the Maya sitting across from him was not the Maya he thought he knew.
Trevor felt his throat go dry as Maya leaned forward slightly, her crimson eyes boring into him with an intensity that sent an unexplainable chill down his spine.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Her voice was low, steady, but it carried a weight that made his stomach twist. Her red eyes widened slightly, as if daring him to respond, daring him to even breathe the wrong way.
Trevor's fingers twitched, his nails pressing into his palm harder as he forced himself to maintain his composure. But it was slipping, cracking under the sheer pressure rolling off of her.
This wasn't right.
This wasn't Maya.
Not the Maya Evergreen he had studied, the one everyone liked.
This was something else. Someone else.
"Answer the question."
Trevor flinched.
His body reacted before his mind could tell it not to.
The restaurant felt smaller, the air heavier, the distant murmurs of other cadets in the background fading into static.
He blinked, trying to center himself, trying to push past the irrational feeling of danger clawing at the edges of his nerves.
"Wh-what? What do you mean?"
Maya tilted her head slightly, as if he had just said the dumbest thing imaginable.
"I said—" she exhaled sharply, tapping her finger against the table once, deliberate, controlled, yet filled with something deeply unsettling.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
Her voice, though still calm, cut into him like a blade.
And then she leaned in even closer.
"Are you retarded?"
Trevor's breath hitched.
The words—so blunt, so venomous, so unlike anything Maya had ever said before—slammed into him harder than any insult he had ever received.
It wasn't just the profanity. It was the way she said it. Like she wasn't even angry. Like she was just stating a fact.
Like she wasn't even acknowledging him as someone worth her time.
Chapter 861 - Desire (5)
Trevor swallowed hard, forcing himself to regain control of his breathing. The weight pressing down on him wasn't something he could see, wasn't something tangible, yet it suffocated him all the same.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
He had planned everything. He had calculated the right words, the right setting, the right pace. Maya should have hesitated, should have doubted, should have let his words linger in her mind like an uncomfortable truth.
But this?
This was not hesitation.
This was absolute rejection.
And Trevor didn't know how to handle it.
"I—I was just trying to warn you," he finally managed, his voice unsteady, trying to grasp at something, anything to regain control of the conversation. "I thought you deserved to know. That's all."
Maya's expression didn't change.
She just stared at him, her crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light of the restaurant.
And then, she tilted her head slightly, the movement eerily slow.
"Why?"
Trevor blinked. "What?"
"Why do you think you're in a position to give me advice?"
There was no hostility in her tone—that's what made it worse. It was casual, almost bored, like she was genuinely confused by his very existence.
Trevor clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "I—look, I don't have to be close to you to see what's happening. It's obvious to anyone paying attention. Astron is—"
Maya tapped the table once, cutting him off.
"Are we close?"
Trevor frowned. "What?"
"Are we close, Trevor?"
The way she said his name sent a shiver down his spine.
"I—" Trevor hesitated. "No, but—"
"Then why," Maya continued, leaning forward slightly, resting her elbow on the table, "do you think I should give a single fuck about your opinion?"
Trevor opened his mouth—and nothing came out.
Maya exhaled, shaking her head slightly, as if disappointed.
"You don't know me," she stated, voice flat. "You don't know what I think. You don't know what I feel. And yet, here you are, sitting in front of me, talking like you have some sort of authority over my life."
Trevor's hands curled into fists beneath the table. "I was just trying to look out for you."
"Why?"
The question came again, swift and precise, stabbing into him before he had even fully processed his own words.
He hesitated. "Because—"
"What makes you think you know better than me?"
Trevor flinched, as if he had been struck.
Maya's voice never rose, never turned angry—but that was the problem.
She was cutting through every single one of his words with ease, as if he were a child grasping at straws.
Trevor tried to straighten his shoulders, to not let himself be cornered. "I just wanted to help. As a classmate."
Maya let out a breath, something close to amusement flickering in her crimson gaze.
"Help?"
Trevor nodded. "Yes."
"Ah," Maya said, nodding once, slow and deliberate. "I see now."
Trevor felt something was wrong the moment those words left her lips.
She tilted her head again, her voice dipping into something deceptively soft.
"Tell me, Trevor…" she exhaled, propping her chin against her palm. "How many other classmates have you pulled aside for a talk like this?"
Trevor stiffened.
Maya smiled under her mask, a small, knowing curve of her lips.
"I mean, since you're so worried," she continued, her tone light. "You must be talking to a lot of people, right? After all, so many cadets get involved in things they shouldn't. Surely, you must have pulled aside dozens of people to give them your special advice."
Trevor's jaw locked.
Maya's eyes narrowed slightly.
"But no." She exhaled. "You didn't do that, did you?"
Trevor didn't answer.
He felt like the very air had been pulled from his lungs.
She was dismantling him.
Piece by piece.
Trevor clenched his jaw, trying to form a response, but the words wouldn't come. The air around him felt heavier, pressing against his lungs, making it harder to think.
Why was he doing this?
Why had he gone through the trouble of pulling Maya aside, of carefully constructing this conversation, of pushing this hard?
The answer should have been easy. He should have had a dozen logical reasons lined up—about Astron, about how he was just looking out for a classmate, about how he was only doing the right thing.
But under Maya's piercing gaze, none of them felt real.
His fingers twitched against the table as he finally forced something out, his voice quieter than before.
"From the outside…" Trevor hesitated, eyes flickering toward the drink in front of him before settling back on Maya. "From the outside, I just thought… that guy was taking advantage of you. And I didn't want that."
Maya didn't move.
She didn't scoff, didn't sigh, didn't roll her eyes.
She just watched him.
Trevor exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. His confidence had taken a hit, but there was still something there—something he could hold onto.
"Maya, you may not know how guys work…" he started, his voice gaining a little steadiness back.
Maya blinked, but her expression remained unreadable.
Trevor leaned forward slightly. "You're… different from most girls here. You don't really see how other guys act around you. The way they—" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "The way they look at you."
Something shifted in Maya's eyes.
Trevor didn't notice at first. He was too focused on trying to salvage this conversation, to pull it back into his control.
He shook his head, exhaling sharply. "They see you as… something else. You're always nice, always smiling, always helping people. But guys—" He let out a short, humorless chuckle. "Guys don't just see that. They want something from you. Even if they don't say it outright."
He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "Astron's no different."
Trevor let those words settle, watching for any kind of reaction. He knew he had taken a risk, pushed further than he should have, but maybe—just maybe—it would stick.
Maya was silent.
Too silent.
And then, she laughed.
It was soft at first, just a breath of sound behind her mask. Then, a little sharper, almost mocking.
Trevor's stomach twisted.
That wasn't a pleasant laugh.
It was a laugh that told him he had just made a terrible mistake.
Maya tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes gleaming with something indescribable.
Maya's laughter continued, soft at first, then growing, her shoulders shaking slightly as if she had just heard the funniest thing in the world.
Trevor's stomach twisted into knots.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't her.
Maya barely laughed in front of people, and when she did, it was light, controlled, polite—the kind of laughter that made people feel at ease.
But this?
This was mocking. This was amused in a way that made Trevor's skin crawl.
"It is so funny…" Maya exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper, but then she let out a sharper breath, her fingers curling against the table. "So fucking funny."
Trevor's fingers twitched. "What the hell are you laughing at?"
Maya let the last remnants of laughter settle before tilting her head, her crimson gaze locking onto him again.
"You think Astron is the one taking advantage of this body?"
Trevor blinked, something in his mind snapping at the way she said that. "This… body?"
Maya didn't acknowledge the confusion in his tone. She simply leaned forward slightly, her voice dipping into something quieter, something dangerous.
"You're wrong."
Trevor felt a chill run down his spine. "What?"
Maya's lips curled behind her mask, a small, knowing smile.
"It's the complete opposite."
Trevor couldn't look away from her eyes.
"This body… I…" Maya exhaled, tilting her head slightly, almost as if she was revealing a secret.
"I am the one who took advantage of him the most."
Trevor's mind blanked for a moment.
What?
Maya's eyes remained locked onto his, completely unwavering.
"Astron is the one that I took advantage of the most," she repeated, as if she were stating something as obvious as the weather.
Trevor's hands curled into fists beneath the table. "What the hell are you saying?"
Maya didn't answer immediately. Instead, she lifted her hand and pointed at Trevor's forehead with her index finger, the motion slow and deliberate.
Trevor froze.
Her finger didn't touch him, didn't press against his skin, but it might as well have been a dagger.
She was pointing at his head—at his mind.
"And you…" Maya murmured, tilting her head slightly, crimson eyes still gleaming with that unnerving amusement.
"You should stop projecting."
Chapter 862 - Desire (6)
"You should stop projecting."
Trevor's breath hitched.
"What?"
Maya exhaled as if she was genuinely tired of him, as if she was speaking to a child who just didn't get it.
"You're projecting, Trevor," she said, tapping her finger lightly in the air before pulling it back. "This whole spiel of yours… telling me how guys think, how I don't see things clearly, how I'm the one being used…"
She let out a quiet hum. "It's all just a reflection of what you think about yourself, isn't it?"
Trevor stiffened.
His stomach twisted violently, a feeling too close to exposure.
Maya leaned back in her seat again, tapping her fingers against the table rhythmically.
"You assume every guy wants something from me," she mused. "Because that's how you think."
Trevor's jaw locked. "That's not—"
"You think Astron is using me," Maya continued, ignoring him entirely. "Because that's what you would do if you were in his position."
Trevor stopped breathing.
"You think I don't see how guys look at me?" She shook her head, clicking her tongue. "You think I don't know?"
She exhaled, leaning forward just enough to make Trevor's skin crawl.
"But the thing is, Trevor…" Her voice dropped into something just above a whisper.
"I don't care how guys look at me."
Trevor felt something tighten in his chest.
Maya tilted her head. "But you do."
Trevor's hand clenched into a fist against his thigh.
This was wrong.
He was supposed to be leading this conversation. He was supposed to be in control.
So why—why did it feel like Maya was the one who had planned this from the start?
"Shut up," Trevor muttered.
Maya's smile widened slightly. "Did I hit a nerve?"
Trevor shot up from his seat, his chair scraping against the floor. "I said shut the fuck up!"
The restaurant fell silent.
A few people turned their heads at the sudden outburst, but Maya?
Maya didn't flinch.
She didn't move.
She just sat there, watching him, her crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Trevor's breathing was heavy, uneven. His hands were shaking.
Maya exhaled, tilting her head slightly.Top of Form
Trevor's breathing was ragged, uneven, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His body trembled with an emotion he couldn't quite name—anger, humiliation, frustration, something deeper, something raw and unfiltered. His vision tunneled, his mind spinning with fragmented thoughts, each one sharper than the last.
And yet, despite all of it, Maya simply sat there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Assessing.
A slow exhale left her lips, controlled, deliberate. Then, she tilted her head just slightly, the motion almost lazy.
"There it is," she murmured, her voice like silk woven with steel. "Your true face."
Trevor flinched.
His fingers twitched before he lifted his hand and pressed it against his face, covering his expression as if that would somehow erase what had just happened. As if he could push everything back into the neat, composed version of himself he had so carefully constructed.
'No. No, no, no—this isn't how it was supposed to go.'
Maya should have wavered.
She should have hesitated.
She should have listened.
Instead, she was tearing through every layer he had put in place, peeling them back like they were nothing. His carefully crafted words, his calculated pacing, his subtle manipulations—she was dismantling all of it with a single look.
And worse?
She was making him feel seen.
Too seen.
'Why…? Why does she look at me like that?'
His fingers curled tighter against his face. His nails dug into his skin. The whispers in the restaurant were growing louder now, a dull, grating noise in the back of his mind, a chorus of attention he had unwittingly drawn to himself.
But he didn't care.
He couldn't care.
Not when Maya's crimson eyes were locked onto him, dissecting him piece by piece.
'Why doesn't she see it? Why doesn't she understand?'
He had done everything right. He had laid it all out for her, every carefully constructed truth, every logical conclusion, every warning that she should have listened to.
So why—why was she looking at him like he was the fool?
'Astron is using you. It's obvious. It's so obvious. He doesn't care about you, not like I do. He lets you fight for him, bleed for him, and he just—stands there. How can you not see it?'
His breathing hitched.
'You're smart, aren't you, Maya? Then why are you being so blind? Why are you looking at me like I'm the one who doesn't understand?'
His thoughts spiraled, clawing at the edges of his sanity, at the gnawing emptiness in his chest that only grew with every second she refused to yield.
'It's him. It's him. It's always him.'
Trevor forced himself to move, forced himself to steady his breath, forced himself to lower his hand from his face. His skin burned where his nails had pressed too hard, but he ignored it.
He needed to get control back.
He needed to say something—anything—that would turn this back in his favor.
But Maya didn't give him the chance.
She leaned forward, her chin resting lightly against the back of her hand, her gaze never breaking from his.
Maya's crimson gaze remained locked onto Trevor, unwavering, unshaken, as if she was waiting—waiting for him to say something, to scramble for some last semblance of control. But the silence that stretched between them was suffocating, thick with unspoken truths and festering emotions.
She studied him for a moment longer before exhaling, slowly, deliberately. Then, she leaned back, folding her arms across her chest as if she had already lost interest.
"I don't like you."
Trevor flinched.
The words hit him harder than anything she had said before. Not because they were loud. Not because they were cruel. But because they were so simple, so matter-of-fact, so utterly final.
Maya tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. "I don't like the way you talk to me," she continued, voice as calm as ever. "I don't like the way you act around me. The way you hover, the way you insert yourself into my business like you belong there."
Trevor's hands curled into fists beneath the table, his knuckles whitening.
'No, no, she doesn't mean that. She doesn't understand what she's saying.'
Maya's eyes flickered, as if she could hear his thoughts, as if she could see the desperate way he clung to whatever illusion he had built in his mind.
"You make my skin crawl."
Trevor's stomach twisted into knots.
'I… I make her skin crawl?'
His mind reeled, struggling to process the words, struggling to find some way—any way—to twist them into something else. But there was no malice in her tone, no spite. Just pure, cold indifference.
And that was worse.
Trevor sat in silence, his breath shallow, his entire body coiled so tightly it felt like he might snap. But he said nothing.
What could he say?
How was he supposed to respond to something like that?
Maya didn't care. She wasn't afraid of hurting his feelings. She wasn't even acknowledging his presence as something worth considering.
She was rejecting him in every possible way.
Trevor's throat was dry, his jaw locked so tight it ached. He wanted to say something. He wanted to shout, to demand why, to force her to see that she was wrong, that she was being blind, that she was throwing away the one person who actually understood her.
But he stayed silent.
Because deep down, in the part of him that he didn't want to acknowledge, he knew that nothing he said would matter.
Maya was already done with him.
And then—just as he thought she was finished, just as he thought she would leave him sitting there in his own crumbling delusions—Maya stood.
The chair scraped against the floor, the sound sharp, cutting through the stagnant air between them. Trevor didn't move, didn't look up, but he could feel her presence shifting, drawing closer.
And then—
A whisper.
Soft. Cold. Lethal.
"You are just a nobody."
Trevor's breath hitched.
Maya leaned down, just close enough that he could feel the ghost of her presence, the heat of her breath brushing against his skin, but the words? The words were ice.
"If you ever speak about him in this manner ever again—"
Her red eyes glowed in the dim light, gleaming with something ancient, something beyond human, something that sent a deep, primal chill down Trevor's spine.
A slow, deliberate pause.
And then—
"I will butcher you alive."
Trevor's entire body went rigid.
His breath caught in his throat.
A single shiver ran down his spine, an involuntary reaction—one that made his entire being feel small, insignificant, powerless.
Maya straightened, her presence retreating as if she had never been there at all.
Chapter 863 - Desire (7)
Trevor sat there, unmoving.
The restaurant around him buzzed with faint murmurs, the low hum of conversation barely registering in his mind. His hands remained clenched beneath the table, his breathing shallow, controlled only by force of will.
His body felt heavy—weighted with something that churned in his chest, something suffocating.
Maya's words echoed in his head, reverberating over and over like a cruel, relentless mantra.
"You are just a nobody."
"I will butcher you alive."
His fingers twitched. Slowly, he raised his hand, covering half of his face. The other half of his lips curled—not into a smile, but something close to it, something sharp, something unhinged.
How?
How could this happen?
How did everything fall apart so fast?
'This isn't right. This isn't how it was supposed to go.'
His grip on his face tightened, nails digging into his skin. His other hand, still curled into a fist, trembled against the table. The Maya he had just seen—that wasn't the Maya he knew.
Maya was soft. Maya was kind. Maya was gentle, warm, untouchable yet bright—so bright that people were drawn to her without even realizing it. That was the Maya he had watched, the Maya he had admired, the Maya that should have been sitting in front of him.
But this Maya?
This cold, merciless creature with crimson eyes and words as sharp as blades?
This wasn't her.
That wasn't her.
That wasn't his Maya.
And then, the thought struck him like a bolt of lightning.
"That's right."
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, muffled against his palm.
Of course.
His shoulders shook with another quiet laugh, one that held no real humor. It was brittle, laced with something bitter, something resentful, something that crawled beneath his skin like a parasite.
He changed her.
His hand slid down his face, his lips twisting into something between a smirk and a sneer.
"It's because of him."
It's Astron.
The name itself burned on his tongue, filled his chest with something seething, something vile.
Trevor's mind reeled, but the pieces were starting to fit, aligning in a way that made perfect, undeniable sense.
Maya had never been like this before. Not before he appeared. Not before he became a constant in her life. It was Astron—Astron—who had infected her, twisted her, pulled her into his orbit and reshaped her into something unrecognizable.
Maya had always been strong, but she had never been cruel.
Not until he got involved.
Not until he started standing beside her.
Not until he started taking all of the attention that should have belonged to someone else.
To him.
Trevor's breath steadied, his heartbeat slowing into something eerily calm. His hand lowered from his face, and when he finally blinked, there was nothing but pure, unwavering certainty in his eyes.
It wasn't Maya's fault.
She had been tainted.
Corrupted.
Warped into something else by his influence.
And Trevor—Trevor was the only one who saw it.
The only one who understood.
His fingers curled against the table, his mind sharpening with a singular, undeniable truth.
I have to fix this.
Trevor's breath steadied, his thoughts crystallizing into something sharper, something undeniable.
He saw it now.
He understood now.
Maya was not the one to blame.
She was trapped.
Twisted. Corrupted. Warped.
Astron had sunk his claws into her, had poisoned her mind, had reshaped her into something unrecognizable. This Maya—this cold, unfeeling shadow of the girl he knew—wasn't real. This was his doing. Astron's doing.
Trevor's fingers curled tighter against the table, the wood creaking faintly beneath the pressure of his grip.
Astron.
The name itself was venom in his mind.
That thing had slithered into Maya's life, had planted himself beside her like some insidious parasite, feeding off her strength, off her presence, off everything that made her who she was.
And she couldn't even see it.
Trevor's jaw clenched, his breath slow, controlled, deliberate.
She doesn't realize what's happening to her. She doesn't see how much he's taken from her. How much of herself she's lost because of him.
That wasn't her fault.
It was his.
It had always been him.
Trevor exhaled, slow and steady, his fingers relaxing slightly as a chilling calm settled over him.
This wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
Maya could hate him all she wanted. She could glare at him with those crimson eyes, she could tell him she didn't like him, she could threaten him with all the coldness in the world—
It didn't matter.
Because Trevor knew the truth.
Maya wasn't herself.
And that meant she needed him.
He was the only one who could save her.
His fingers tapped against the table, slow and methodical, his mind already spinning, already calculating.
If she's fallen this far, if he's already poisoned her so deeply…
His lips curled into a quiet smirk.
Then I'll just have to take my time fixing her.
A savior's path was never easy. He had to be patient. He had to be careful. Maya wouldn't believe him now—not when she was so far gone, not when Astron's influence had wrapped around her so tightly.
But it wouldn't last forever.
Astron would slip.
Astron would fall.
And when that happened, Trevor would be there to show her the truth.
He would save her.
And he would make that bastard pay.
*******
Maya walked through the academy grounds, her steps slow and measured. The air was crisp, carrying the lingering hum of mana that always drifted through the campus at night. The usual chatter of students had long since faded, leaving only the distant echoes of footsteps and the occasional flicker of artificial lights illuminating the pathways.
She exhaled softly, her breath steady, but her mind was anything but.
"Why did you do that?"
Her voice was quiet, spoken not to the empty air but to the presence lingering within her.
For a moment, there was no response. Then—
"Do what?"
Maya's eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't play dumb."
A low chuckle.
"Oh, you mean the part where I put that worm in his place?" Her other self's tone was light, almost amused. "Or was it when I told him exactly how insignificant he is? Hard to say, really."
Maya stopped walking, her fingers curling slightly at her sides.
"You took control."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement.
Her other self hummed. "And? You weren't handling it properly."
Maya's jaw tightened. "That wasn't for you to decide."
"Wasn't it?" The voice slithered through her mind, wrapping around her thoughts like smoke. "You weren't going to do anything. You were going to sit there and let him keep talking like he actually mattered."
Maya exhaled sharply through her nose. "He was just talking."
"No, he wasn't." Her other self's voice dropped, turning sharp, cold. "He was trying to manipulate you. He thought he could twist your thoughts, make you question him. Make you doubt him."
Maya pressed her fingers to her temple, rubbing slow circles against her skin.
"And what?" she muttered. "That justified revealing my red eyes? Threatening him in public?"
"Tch." A noise of irritation. "I was careful."
Maya scoffed. "You were reckless."
"I don't like that guy."
Maya stilled.
Her other self's voice, usually dripping with amusement or mockery, was different this time. There was something almost... visceral in the way she said it.
Maya didn't respond immediately.
"And I certainly wouldn't tolerate how he spoke about him."
The moment the words left her other self's mouth, Maya knew.
She had already suspected, but now, there was no doubt.
This wasn't just about Trevor.
This was about Astron.
Her other self—she never let anyone else get under her skin like that. But when it came to him, when it came to Astron, the rules were always different.
Maya closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.
"This is getting worse, isn't it?"
Silence.
Then—
"Depends on how you look at it."
Maya opened her eyes again, staring up at the artificial night sky projected over the academy dome.
"You should stop doing things like that," Maya muttered, rubbing her temple as she walked.
"And why would I do that?"
Her other self's voice came instantly, sharp and biting. "You act like you're in control, but you're the one who let him talk that much. You were going to sit there and take it, weren't you?"
Maya's jaw tightened. "I could have handled it."
A scoff. "No, you wouldn't have. You would've danced around it, chosen your words carefully, made sure not to step on his delicate little ego—because that's what you do, isn't it?"
Maya didn't answer.
"You're always so careful, so hesitant. You don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. But guess what?" The voice in her head sneered. "I don't give a fuck."
Maya inhaled slowly, trying to keep her thoughts steady. "That's not the point."
"Oh, but it is." Her other self's voice slithered through her mind, taunting. "You don't like confrontation. You think things through too much. But me?" A low chuckle. "I'm not playing that game."
Maya clenched her fists.
"Trevor deserved every word I gave him. And if I have to take control again to handle things properly, I will. Especially if you keep handling things like you did before."
Her steps slowed.
Especially if you keep handling things like you did before.
Her fingers twitched slightly at her side.
"I don't need you interfering."
"You sure about that?"
Maya stayed silent.
"Heh." Her other self laughed, a dry, knowing sound. "Can't answer?"
She didn't respond.
She just walked.