Chapter 40: Hollow Flame
The room had not changed, but everything else had.
Aria sat on the edge of the cold bed, her legs drawn up and wrapped in a too-soft blanket, though it did little to soothe the chill running beneath her skin. Her hands curled tightly into fists, pressing into her thighs, her knuckles pale. She stared at the door as though sheer willpower might summon it open. It never did.
Selene was gone.
Not in the way that left broken glass or slammed doors—no, her absence was quieter, crueler. Like fog dissipating at dawn, like a shadow peeled from the wall. The silence she left behind was not empty—it was aware. It lingered. It watched.
Aria had woken to a hollow space beside her, the sheets cold to the touch. Not cold like winter. Cold like Selene. That strange, stirring chill that always raised goosebumps on her arms, that always left her shivering—not in discomfort, but in something closer to hunger.
She hated how much she missed it.
She hated that she still thought about the shape of Selene's body behind her, the low rasp of her voice in the dark, the glint in her eyes when Aria got flustered—when she stammered and flushed and fumbled under that gaze that saw through everything she tried to hide.
And yet… despite the ache, Aria couldn't shake the sense that she was not alone.
She hadn't been sleeping much. She couldn't. Every time her eyes closed, she felt something—not a dream, not quite. More like a pressure just beneath her skin. As if her body knew Selene was still near, even if her mind refused to believe it. As if the air itself remembered her.
Sometimes, when she paced the hallway at night, she'd catch her breath fogging just slightly in a space that should've been warm. She'd feel a brush of cold against the back of her neck—sharp and intimate—and whip around to nothing.
But it wasn't nothing.
She knew that now.
The air didn't just chill when Selene was near. It craved. It wrapped around her like silk made of frost, seductive and precise. The shivers Selene gave her had never truly been from the cold. They came from something deeper. Darker. Something Aria hadn't yet named.
Did Selene know that?
She must have. The way she leaned in just close enough. The way her fingers trailed like whispers against Aria's jaw, never warm, always cool—but never unwelcome. The way she said her name like it was a question and a command all at once.
Gods, Aria flushed just thinking about it.
Even now, alone in the still room, she could feel that heat rising in her chest, that flutter beneath her ribs, chased by a cold ghost of a memory. Her breath hitched, and she hated herself for it. Hated how easily Selene had invaded her, body and mind.
She stood up suddenly, needing to move, needing to do something other than sink into the ache of missing her.
The halls were dim, the air still. She didn't bother turning on lights. Darkness suited her tonight.
Downstairs, the training room yawned open, quiet and untouched. Dust had begun to settle. Selene would have noticed that. Would've clicked her tongue and dragged Aria out of bed with that insufferably smug little smile.
"If you want to live, little flame, you'll need to sweat for it."
Aria rolled her eyes at the echo, though the memory sent a thrill down her spine. She dropped her coat beside the door and walked barefoot to the mat, flexing her fingers as power simmered just beneath the skin.
She didn't stretch. She didn't warm up. She unleashed.
The first movement was a punch—clean, deliberate. The second a kick that spun through the air. Muscle memory took over. Strike. Pivot. Breathe. It all poured out—rage, longing, grief—as motion. Sweat prickled her brow, her breath heavy, but never broken.
She felt alive.
The pulse of power thrummed at her fingertips, more obedient now. Less a beast, more a flame she could shape. She let it coil, then retract, allowing her body to burn but not consume.
Selene would see this and smirk.
Not out of mockery, but pride. That maddening pride she wore like a second skin, as though she already knew Aria would survive, even before Aria did. As though she chose her not because she was ready—but because she would be.
The thought burned behind her eyes.
She dropped to her knees, panting, head bowed. The mat was cool beneath her palms. Too cool.
Her breath caught.
She didn't move.
She didn't need to.
That presence—silent, precise—was here again. Not imagined. Not hoped for. Here.
And Aria felt it like a pressure against her spine. Like the brush of fingers that never touched. The air shifted. Grew sharper. More alert.
Then—a voice, barely a whisper.
"So you do remember how to move."
Aria froze. Her chest heaved, her blood roaring in her ears. She turned slowly—too slowly.
And there she was.
Selene stood at the threshold, half-shadowed, cloak open, revealing a slim form dusted with frost. Her silver-blade forest green with eyes gleamed under the dim light, cutting through the room like a storm come home.
"Missed me?" she asked, voice dry.
Aria's knees weakened.
"You—" She tried to sound angry. Furious. She wanted to rage, to throw something, to scream. But all that came out was a flushed, breathless, "Where the hell have you been?"
Selene tilted her head. "Watching."
Aria's breath caught again, this time with something darker threading through it. Selene moved closer. The temperature dipped with every step. Not painfully—but intimately. Like an invisible hand was drawing goosebumps up her arms, her spine. Her lips parted as Selene stopped inches away.
"Are you cold?" Selene asked, too soft. Too wicked.
Aria shook her head.
"No," she whispered. "You're just… always like this."
Selene's lips curved. "Like what?"
"You make me—" Aria's voice failed.
Selene leaned in, her breath like winter across Aria's cheek.
"Say it."
Aria turned red—visibly. A flush high on her cheeks, across her chest. Her breath stuttered as that cold—not from weather, not from fear—spread through her, down her belly, pooling low and deep.
"You make me shiver," she whispered. "And I don't know if it's because I'm scared or if I just want —-"
Selene didn't let her finish.
She stepped in, one hand lifting—fingertips just grazing the side of Aria's jaw, ice-cool, light as a ghost.
"Want what?" she purred.
Aria blinked up at her. She was trembling now, not from the cold, not anymore.
"I don't know," Aria whispered.
Selene's smile was devastating.
"Yes, you do."