The banging didn't stop.
Three knocks.
Pause.
Three more.
Like a warning.
Or a trigger.
Elara stood frozen near Aurora's bed, her hands trembling slightly. She could still feel Aurora's fingers ghosting along her chin — the first touch after days of absence. It had made her chest bloom with warmth... and fear.
But now Aurora was gone. Vanished into the night, like she always did when shadows came knocking.
And Elara was alone again.
---
She crept toward the hallway, curiosity slicing through her anxiety.
The house was quiet now.
Too quiet.
---
Elara tiptoed down the marble corridor, her bare feet making no sound. She could hear a faint voice beyond the grand staircase — deep, masculine, threatening.
Then another voice. Female. Sharp. Calm.
Aurora's.
But something in her tone… was different. Not cold. Not seductive. Not playful.
It was lethal.
---
Elara stopped near the stairs and peeked down.
She saw Aurora.
But not like before.
She was standing in front of the villa door — barefoot, robe flowing open at the thigh, yet still holding the posture of a goddamn queen.
In front of her stood a man in a dark trench coat. Muscular. Tanned. Military posture.
Behind him… three more.
They weren't friends.
They weren't lovers.
They were dangerous.
---
"You shouldn't be here," Aurora said.
Her voice was soft. But behind it was thunder.
The man chuckled. "You owe me a name, Aurora. Or did you forget how many bodies I buried for you?"
Aurora didn't flinch. "You buried them for yourself. I just pointed."
"And Elena? Was she for me too?"
Elara's heart stopped.
Who the hell is Elena?
Aurora's jaw twitched, but she stayed composed. "You came here for blood?"
"I came here because I heard something interesting. That you're keeping a little virgin girl hidden in this big, lonely mansion. Like a pet."
Elara froze. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
The man's smirk widened.
"Don't worry," he said. "I only want to see her once. Then I'll leave. Untouched."
Aurora didn't speak.
Instead, she took a step forward… and slapped the man hard across the face.
---
It echoed.
Even Elara flinched.
The man didn't react.
He just looked at her — then smiled.
"You've changed," he said darkly. "The old Aurora would've thrown her to me like a broken toy."
Aurora's voice dropped to a whisper.
"She isn't yours to touch."
---
Elara backed away from the railing, her mind spinning. She didn't know who that man was. Or what past Aurora had buried. But whatever this was — it was violent, and personal.
And it was because of her.
---
Back in her room, Elara locked the door and pressed her back to the wall, breath heavy.
She had come here as a scholarship student. A girl with second-hand shoes and dead parents. She had wanted to study, to survive.
But now she was tangled in silk sheets and power games. Being protected like treasure — or prey.
She didn't know which was worse.
---
One Hour Later
Aurora entered the room, blood smeared across her knuckles.
Not hers.
She didn't speak. She didn't explain.
She just walked to the dresser, poured herself a glass of whisky, and leaned against the wall.
Elara stood slowly, watching her. "Who was he?"
Aurora didn't meet her gaze. "Someone from when I was still trying to be a monster."
Elara's breath hitched. "And now?"
Aurora looked up. Finally. Eyes soft, but dangerous.
"Now I'm worse. Because I've found something I don't want to break."
---
Silence.
Elara crossed the room slowly, stopping only inches away from her.
"You protected me."
Aurora didn't move. "You didn't need protecting. I did."
A pause.
"I would've burned this house with him inside it if he touched you."
---
Elara's skin shivered. Not from fear. From the heat that climbed up her neck at those words.
No one had ever wanted her like that. Possessed her like that.
And still, a voice inside whispered:
This isn't love. It's obsession.
But damn it — she wanted to be obsessed over.
---
She reached for Aurora's wrist.
The older woman flinched, just slightly. But she didn't pull away.
Elara's fingers brushed over the blood.
"You're bleeding."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
Aurora met her eyes.
"You think I'm soft now," she said, bitterly. "Because I stopped touching you. Because I let you walk around the house like you're free."
Elara nodded slowly.
"I thought you were done with me."
Aurora laughed, a sound so low and angry it vibrated through Elara's bones.
"I was giving you space," she said. "And it killed me."
---
A long pause.
Elara whispered, "I don't want space anymore."
Aurora's eyes darkened.
And then she moved.
Fast.
She grabbed Elara's waist, spun her toward the wall, and pinned her wrists above her head.
Her lips hovered just inches away.
"You're playing with matches, Elara."
Elara gasped. "Then burn me."
---
Aurora kissed her.
Rough. Possessive. A mixture of rage and relief.
Elara melted into it, her knees weak, her body trembling. She wanted more. She wanted to be devoured.
But Aurora stopped.
Just as quickly as she started — she stepped back.
"No."
Elara blinked. "What?"
Aurora's breath was ragged. Her eyes wild.
"I don't want to take you like this. Not when I'm this angry. This… unstable."
Elara's chest ached. "I don't care."
"I do."
Aurora turned her back, gripping the dresser so hard the glass cracked.
Then she whispered:
"Next time I touch you… it won't be because I'm afraid of losing you. It'll be because you begged me to."
Elara lay awake again.
The bed was cold.
Her body was aching for Aurora. Her mind was aching for answers.
Who was Elena?
What had Aurora done before meeting her?
And why did she feel like this mansion was less a home… and more a cage built of velvet?
---
In the middle of the night, a letter slid under her door.
No stamp.
No handwriting.
Just one line inside:
> "Your little virgin is being watched. Keep her on a tighter leash, or I will."
Elara clutched the paper, heart pounding.
And smiled — darkly.
Because for the first time…
She liked being the reason two monsters were ready to kill each other.
---