Chapter 43: Unwrapped Silence
The night pressed against the windows, thick and velvet.
Selene remained by the door for a long moment after the branch cracked outside, still and listening. Her body, colder than the air itself, radiated a quiet menace, a tangible energy that made Aira shiver—not from fear, but from something much deeper, something she dared not name.
When the silence settled again, Selene finally eased away from the door. Her movements were unhurried, deliberate. She didn't look at Aira at first.
Aira exhaled shakily, her body still humming with adrenaline—or maybe something sharper, something that left a strange heat coiling low in her belly.
Selene turned, and their eyes met.
The world outside might have been breaking, but inside, the world narrowed to a single point: her.
"Come," Selene said simply, her voice velvet-wrapped ice.
Aira obeyed without thinking, stepping forward into the deeper shadows where Selene waited.
Their shoulders brushed—just lightly—but even that fleeting contact sent a jolt down Aira's spine. She sucked in a breath, trying to steady herself, but Selene's presence made it impossible. Her skin prickled, hypersensitive to every inch of distance—or the lack of it.
Selene led her toward the staircase, moving like a slow eclipse of light.
"We should sleep upstairs," Selene said, voice low and unreadable. "Fewer windows. Easier to defend."
Aira nodded, unable to speak.
As they climbed the steps, Aira's gaze fell to the small gap between them. She caught glimpses of Selene's bare forearm, the muscles shifting under pale skin, the silver glint of a blade sheathed at her hip.
Her mouth was dry.
At the landing, Selene paused and tilted her head slightly, sensing the stare. "Are you afraid of the dark, little one?" she murmured, teasing.
Aira's cheeks flushed instantly, furious at her own reaction. She looked away. "No."
A slow, knowing smile curved Selene's lips. She leaned in, close enough that Aira could feel her breath—not warm, like any normal body, but cool. Crisp, like winter air filling her lungs.
It made her knees weak.
"Good," Selene whispered, her voice brushing the shell of Aira's ear. "Because darkness isn't always something to fear."
Aira swallowed hard, her heart thudding wildly against her ribs.
They stepped into the master bedroom. Dust hung in the air like memories. A large bed, untouched for years, dominated the space. Selene's eyes flicked over it, then back to Aira.
"One bed," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. "You'll have to share."
Aira hesitated. Her body betrayed her before her mind could catch up—heat blooming low, aching, confusing. She shifted awkwardly, arms crossed too tight.
Selene stepped closer, moving in a way that seemed almost accidental—but it wasn't. It was a slow closing of space. A calculated hunting.
Aira backed up without meaning to, bumping against the old dresser. Selene caged her there, hands braced lightly on either side of the wood, not touching, but making sure Aira knew: she could, easily take her.
The air between them sharpened, electric.
"You're shivering," Selene murmured, watching her.
"I-it's cold," Aira stammered, though the ache between her thighs told a different story.
Selene smiled—sharp, predatory. "Is it?"
Aira flushed darker, unable to meet her gaze.
Selene tilted her head, studying her like a puzzle she already knew how to solve.
"You feel it, don't you?" she murmured, voice low, laced with dark amusement.
"That craving under your skin."
Aira stiffened, caught between denial and the undeniable. She didn't know what Selene meant—but her body did.
Her core throbbed gently, an uncomfortable, unfamiliar ache that made her squirm subtly, pressing her thighs together without even realizing it.
Selene's cold presence leaned closer. "You don't even realize how much you want it," she whispered against the corner of Aira's jaw—not quite touching, but close enough that Aira whimpered without sound.
Aira turned her face away desperately, only to find Selene's fingers—cool, elegant—catching her chin and turning her back.
"Don't hide," Selene purred. "I like watching you… unravel."
Aira shivered again, her breath catching in her throat.
Selene didn't kiss her. Not yet.
She lingered just close enough that Aira could feel her, smell the faint metallic sharpness of her magic in the air, taste the promise of something darker on her tongue.
Aira's knees buckled slightly, and Selene, always watching, caught her by the waist with a hand firm but unhurried.
The contact was devastating.
Selene's hand was cold through the thin fabric of Aira's shirt, and the chill seeped into her bones—but not unpleasantly.
It made her core clench harder, made her crave a warmth she knew only Selene could deny or give.
Selene leaned down, her mouth grazing Aira's earlobe with featherlight cruelty.
"You're going to ache for me, little flame," she whispered, each word an invisible hand against Aira's most secret places.
"And you won't even realize it… until it's far, far too late."
Aira made a broken sound in her throat, unable to form words.
Selene chuckled softly, breath frosting against the shell of her ear. Then—casually, cruelly—she released her and stepped back, leaving Aira trembling, flushed, and painfully, achingly empty.
Aira sagged against the dresser, dazed, confused, her thighs pressing together in an unconscious attempt to quell the heat pulsing through her center.
Selene watched her with cool satisfaction, the flicker of amusement in her glacial eyes sharp enough to cut.
"Get some rest," Selene said lightly, already turning away. "You'll need it."
Aira opened her mouth to protest—but no sound came.
She followed Selene in a daze, silent as Aira drew fresh linens from her pocket dimension with a flick of her wrist—casual magic that only deepened the surreal weight pressing on her chest. The dusty bedding was stripped away and replaced with unnerving calm. When they finished, she slipped beneath the clean, heavy blanket like a ghost, curling up on the far edge of the bed, frozen in a silence stitched from confusion, frustration, and a desperate, unnamed hunger that ached too deep to speak.
Selene slid in beside her—elegant, dangerous, untouched by the heat that radiated now from Aira's feverish skin.
Selene didn't touch her again.
She didn't need to.
Her mere proximity was enough.
The cold seeping from her body caressed Aira's burning skin like a whispered promise, a cruel caress that would never satisfy.
And as Aira lay in the dark, her body aching, her thighs pressing together again and again in restless desperation, she realized too late that Selene had been right.
She was already unraveling.
Already craving.
And Selene hadn't even begun.