Chapter 42: The Hollow House
They didn't speak again until morning.
But Selene stayed.
No grand reconciliation. No whispered promises to mend the wreckage. Only a silence that settled between them, heavy and electric. When the first fingers of dawn reached through the broken window, Aira found Selene still there — a dark silhouette against the bruised light.
Selene didn't try to draw close. She just stood at a distance, quiet, coiled with a tension that was colder than the morning air. Watching.
Aira kept her back turned longer than she needed to. She didn't want Selene to see the tear tracks drying against her cheeks, the way her hands shook when she tried to pretend she was fine.
"We can't stay here," Selene said at last, her voice low, cutting through the fragile morning like a blade. Not urgent. Just inevitable.
"I know," Aira answered, barely above a whisper.
Selene shifted, the soft leather of her coat creaking. The cold that clung to her seeped into the room like a living thing — not harsh, not cruel — but a steady reminder of who and what she was. An ice-touched creature that should have repelled Aira.
Instead, Aira found herself leaning toward it without realizing.
"They'll come back," Selene murmured. "Stronger. Smarter."
Aira nodded, swallowing the tightness in her throat. She could feel it too, the fraying edge of something chasing them — something worse than the masked assassins who had stormed in.
But there was still one place left.
"I know somewhere we can go," she said after a long moment.
Selene tilted her head, her green eyes unreadable. "Where?"
Aira hesitated, her fingers curling into the hem of her sleeves. She didn't like remembering. But she had no choice now.
"It's far. Off the main roads. Hidden."
Selene said nothing, only waited with a patience that made Aira's heart thud unevenly.
"It's where I grew up," Aira admitted. Her voice cracked on the last word. "Before… all of this."
Selene's gaze sharpened — a flicker of something almost too quick to catch. She hadn't known. Aira had never told her. Until now.
"You never mentioned it," Selene said carefully.
"I didn't remember it until recently." Aira's hands fluttered nervously. "After you… left, some of the pieces started coming back."
Selene's cold presence in the room thickened, making Aira shiver — but not from fear, not even from the chill. Something else tightened low in her stomach, making her legs feel shaky, her breath hitch.
She pushed on anyway. "It's a hollow house now. Forgotten. But it's safe."
Selene studied her, then gave a small nod. "Then we go."
⸻
The journey took most of the day.
Aira led the way, wrapped in silence, her mind pulling up half-forgotten paths and overgrown trails like old scars. Selene stayed close — too close sometimes — a ghostly figure that never touched but always lingered a breath too near.
And the cold that radiated from Selene — that delicate, numbing cold — it brushed Aira's skin without warning. Goosebumps chased up her arms and down her spine whenever Selene passed too near. More than once, Aira stumbled slightly, heat rushing traitorously to her cheeks.
It wasn't just cold anymore.
It was craving.
Her body responded before her mind even understood it — a strange, maddening ache blooming low in her belly, centering between her thighs. Aira squeezed her legs tighter together each time it flared, her blush deepening, confused and frustrated by the uncomfortable, heavy warmth growing inside her.
Selene noticed. Of course she did.
Aira caught her smirking once — just a glint, a sly twist of her mouth — before she looked away, utterly unbothered.
Selene was doing it on purpose.
Aira didn't dare say anything.
⸻
By dusk, the trees shifted — taller now, older. The overgrown orchard revealed itself in pieces, gnarled branches clawing at the fading sky.
The house appeared like a ghost from the mist.
Stone walls still stood, wrapped in ivy and time, stubbornly clinging to life. The roof sagged, the windows darkened with grime, but the bones of the house remained — strong, familiar.
Aira stopped at the old gate, her chest tightening painfully.
Selene, silent beside her, watched her without pushing.
For a long moment, Aira just breathed — then stepped forward. Her fingers brushed the weatherworn wood, and the gate creaked open like an old friend.
The inside was worse than she remembered.
Dust choked the air. Cobwebs veiled forgotten corners. The furniture wore blankets of time and sorrow. But nothing was broken, nothing stolen.
It was only abandoned.
Aira moved slowly, almost reverently, through the hollow remains of her childhood. She paused at the hearth where her father once warmed her feet after a storm. The kitchen table where her mother braided her hair. The window seat where she learned to dream.
Selene stayed near the door at first — silent, respectful — but always there. Always watching.
Aira found the old record player tucked in the living room's corner. Dust coated its surface. She touched it gently, a forgotten melody threading through her mind.
She didn't dare turn it on. The silence felt sacred.
Selene approached finally, her boots whispering over the old wood floor.
"You don't have to stay here if it hurts," she said quietly.
Aira shook her head, blinking rapidly. "No. I want to stay. I need to remember… who I was."
Selene's hand brushed against Aira's elbow — a light, almost accidental touch — but even that glancing contact sent another shudder of cold through her.
Aira stiffened instinctively, then relaxed when she realized it wasn't bad. It was… unbearable in another way. Her body flushed instantly, blood rushing to her cheeks, her thighs pressing together again as that slow, deep ache returned, fiercer.
Selene's touch was ice — but it set Aira on fire.
Selene's smirk deepened when she noticed Aira's reaction, leaning in just slightly — close enough that her breath ghosted Aira's ear like a threat.
"You're shivering," Selene murmured.
Aira swallowed hard, clenching her fists against the fabric of her sweater. "It's… just cold."
Selene chuckled lowly, the sound like velvet over frost. "Is it?"
Aira's face burned hotter. Her heart hammered against her chest.
She hated — loved — how Selene played with her like this, pulling at invisible strings she hadn't even known she had.
Selene leaned even closer, her icy aura wrapping tighter around Aira's flushed, trembling body.
"You're such a bad liar," she whispered.
Aira whimpered under her breath, so quiet she wasn't sure Selene even heard it.
But Selene smiled — dark, victorious — before pulling back with infuriating slowness, her gloved fingers trailing lightly along Aira's wrist, leaving a trail of cold fire in their wake.
"I'll make a fire," Selene said, voice dripping with false innocence, already moving toward the hearth. "You're too delicate to freeze tonight."
Aira turned away too quickly, hiding her face in her hands, humiliated by the wet, pulsing need gathering between her legs.
She didn't even understand what she wanted.
Only that Selene was the cause — and the only cure.
And Selene, dangerous and cold and patient, knew it.
Knew exactly what she was doing.