~ đź–¤
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Maya lay still.
Her body was warm, limp, aching in places she never knew could ache. Elias's weight still lingered in the bedsheets, his scent wrapped around her like chains — fresh rain, musk, and something darker.
Her pulse hadn't steadied.
Neither had her thoughts.
What just happened between them wasn't soft.
It wasn't safe.
And it definitely wasn't love.
It was a storm — violent, unrelenting, addictive.
And now that it was over, the quiet felt louder than the rain outside.
Elias sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, drenched in shadows. He stared at nothing, his back tense, scars from fights and past sins tracing his spine.
Maya reached for her shirt, slowly slipping it back on, her breath still shaky.
He spoke first.
"You're going to regret this."
Her fingers froze on the hem of her shirt.
"I don't know if I do yet."
"Give it time."
She sat up, wrapping her arms around herself. "Do you?"
He turned then, eyes unreadable. "No. That's the problem."
Thunder rumbled again.
Downstairs, the pounding had stopped. But the silence it left behind was worse.
"Do you think he's still out there?" she asked.
Elias didn't answer.
Instead, he stood and walked to her window. Parted the curtain just slightly.
"Gone," he muttered.
But the way his voice tightened made her heart skip.
"Gone for now," he added.
Maya stared at his back. "You should leave."
He didn't move.
"I mean it, Elias. If my parents come home, if anyone sees us—"
"I don't care." His voice was cold. Quiet. "Let them. Let the whole damn school find out."
"Don't ruin me like this."
He turned slowly, his gaze locking with hers.
"I already have."
Those words landed like a knife.
And he didn't flinch saying them.
"I warned you," he said. "You're mine now, Maya. That doesn't come with escape."
She stood from the bed, hugging herself. "You think owning someone means destroying them?"
He stepped closer.
"No," he said. "I think loving someone means not caring how much of them you burn to keep them close."
Her breath caught.
"You said you hate me."
"I do."
"Then why are you still here?"
Elias's eyes softened — just barely. Enough to show that beneath all the damage, there was still a boy who remembered her sister. Still a boy who felt something. Anything.
"Because I can't lose another girl who looks like her."
Silence.
Then Maya said it:
"I'm not her."
He didn't respond.
So she repeated it — louder.
"I'm not Mira."
His jaw clenched.
"Don't confuse me with your grief," she said, voice trembling now. "Don't bury your pain in my body."
"You don't understand."
"Then make me understand!" she shouted.
The room cracked with silence.
Then Elias closed the space between them in one breath. His hands were back on her face — gentle, but forceful in the way that demanded truth.
"She died because of you."
The words hit harder than a slap.
"You were there," he whispered. "You didn't stop it. You let her fall."
Maya's chest heaved. "You don't know what happened—"
"I know enough!" he roared.
"I've lived with it every day!"
Tears blurred her vision. "So have I."
Elias stared at her.
Then something in his expression broke — not into softness, but into something worse.
Realization.
"You think this was about desire?" he said, voice rough. "This was about control. About taking back what I lost. About making the pain mine again."
He turned his back to her. Ran a hand through his hair.
"You were supposed to hate me," he said. "I was supposed to hurt you just enough to feel whole again."
Maya's legs gave out, and she sank onto the bed.
"But you didn't stop," she whispered.
"I couldn't," he confessed. "You let me in. You gave me the one thing Mira never did—fear. Submission. That look in your eyes when I touch you like I could break you."
She shook her head, voice cracking. "That's not love."
"I never said it was."
Silence again.
Then a knock at the window.
Not the door.
The window.
Both their heads snapped toward it.
A shadow moved behind the glass.
Jax.
His knuckles tapped once. Twice.
Then—
CRACK.
The window splintered.
Elias lunged forward, fury twisting his face.
But before he could get there—
A rock landed on the floor.
Attached was a folded note. Just one sentence written in dark ink:
> "You think you're the monster, Elias?
I know what you did to her."
Maya picked it up with trembling hands.
Her skin went cold.
Not from Elias.
From the truth she didn't know yet.
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