Elle's vision blurred, the edges of the dimly lit hotel corridor twisting like smoke in her drug-addled mind. Her hands were trembling, raw from struggling against the cruel grips that had held her captive far longer than she could bear.
Every whispered word from the shadows echoed in her ears, mocking, sharp, cruel.
"You think he'll save you, little moth?"
Her breath caught. She didn't answer. She was too tired, too broken. The pain was no longer just physical, it seeped into the corners of her soul.
She wanted to run. To escape the nightmare that had become her reality. But her legs felt like lead, sluggish beneath her.
Her captors circled her like vultures, laughter ringing out as they taunted her.
"Look at her, all weak and helpless. What use is a vampire's pet when she's nothing but a shadow?"
The words stung like acid, burning through the drug fog in her brain.
Elle forced herself upright, clutching the cold, cracked wall to steady herself. Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe past the panic rising inside her.
The door to the corridor suddenly slammed open, jolting her senses.
"Elle!"
The voice was sharp, familiar. Full of authority and danger.
Her heart leapt. For the first time since this nightmare began, hope surged through her veins.
----
Without hesitation, Elior's hand flashed out, a silver blade materializing in his grasp like an extension of his will. The first attacker lunged forward, but Elior was faster, his blade slicing through the air, clean and merciless.
A scream shattered the night as the man fell, crimson pooling at his feet.
Malik was right behind him, moving with lethal precision, cutting down anyone who dared stand in their way.
The hotel halls echoed with chaos, cries of pain, shouts of terror, the sharp scrape of metal.
Elior's focus never wavered from Elle. With one swift motion, he scooped her into his arms, her frailty stark against his hardened strength.
"Hold on," he murmured, voice gruff but tender beneath the storm of his rage.
As he strode forward, flames flickered to life along the walls, ignited by his will, ancient fire burning bright and unforgiving.
The heat swelled, licking at the opulent wallpaper, consuming the curtains, turning the polished floors to molten glass.
The hotel's alarms blared, sharp, piercing, summoning panicked guests and staff into the halls.
Elle's friends, gathered anxiously near the ballroom entrance, watched in horror as smoke began to billow from the windows.
Adara's voice broke through the chaos, trembling, "Elle's in there! We have to find her!"
Kemi sobbed, clutching her arm. "Please, where is she?"
Before panic could spiral, Malik appeared, his presence calm and resolute amidst the chaos.
"She's safe," he said firmly. "Elior took her to the mansion. We'll stay there tonight. No one will harm her."
Adara wiped tears from her cheeks but didn't argue, Malik's word was law.
Back in the flames, Elior carried Elle through the smoke-choked halls, his eyes burning with a storm that threatened to engulf the city itself.
Nothing would stand between him and her.
Not even the world.
-------
The heavy doors of the mansion slammed shut behind them, muffling the distant chaos and flames still raging in the city.
Elior laid Elle gently on the grand velvet couch, his hands trembling just slightly from the fight, and from the sharp heat radiating from her skin.
Her breath was shallow, her eyes glazed with a strange, distant sheen.
He lifted her wrist, noticing the faint pulse pounding faster than it should. The scent of something foreign, chemical, lingered under her skin.
"Drugs," he muttered, voice a rough growl. "They laced you."
Elle's fingers twitched, and her head lolled toward him.
Elior bent down, brushing damp strands of hair from her flushed cheek. He pressed a cool palm to her forehead, surprised by the heat burning beneath his touch.
"I need to clean you," he whispered, voice low but firm.
She tried to protest, but her lips parted in a soft, weak sigh, and instead of pushing away, she reached up, pulling him closer.
His breath hitched.
Her hands found his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, holding him like an anchor in the swirling haze clouding her mind.
Elior's restraint cracked. His arms wrapped around her trembling body, pulling her flush against him.
She pressed into his warmth, lips grazing his neck in a whispered plea.
His mouth found hers, gentle at first, tasting the bitter trace of pain beneath her skin.
Her hands roamed beneath his shirt, mapping the taut planes of muscle, tracing the fire igniting between them.
Elior's hands slid under her dress, fingertips finding sensitive skin that shivered beneath his touch.
He kissed her again, deeper, his mouth coaxing a breathless moan from her lips.
The mansion's heavy silence wrapped around them as Elior's hands slipped beneath the soft fabric of Elle's dress, cool fingertips tracing the heated skin of her thighs. Her breath hitched, uneven and desperate, as she pressed closer, trembling against him.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he peeled the dress upward, exposing skin flushed with warmth and desire. His mouth descended, planting soft, searing kisses along the curve of her hip, his tongue flicking lightly over sensitive flesh.
Elle's fingers tangled in his hair, a soft moan slipping past her lips, needy, and unguarded.
Elior's eyes darkened, hungry and reverent all at once, as he lowered himself between her thighs. The scent of her arousal thickened the air, intoxicating and pure.
His tongue traced lazy circles over her wetness, dipping and swirling with precision. Elle gasped sharply, hips lifting involuntarily toward his mouth as waves of heat rippled through her.
"Elior…" she whispered, voice trembling.
His hands gripped her thighs firmly, steadying her as he deepened his ministrations, sucking gently, then harder, eliciting a string of breathy moans that filled the quiet room.
Her body shuddered, skin slick with sweat, the heat pooling low and bright between her legs.
Elior's lips and tongue moved with expert patience, coaxing and teasing every nerve ending until Elle was trembling, moaning her release into his mouth.
But just as her body tensed for the crescendo, his mouth lifted, and he kissed her deeply, his own breath ragged.
"I'm not going further," he murmured against her lips, voice thick with need and something darker.
Elle blinked, confused by the hard line in his voice and the swelling bulge pressing against his trousers.
"Why?" she asked, breathless.
"Because you deserve all of me," Elior said, fingers trailing over her flushed skin, "not just a moment stolen by poison."
He cupped her face, eyes blazing with a fierce tenderness.
"I want you whole. Awake. Ready."
She pressed into him again, warmth and want pooling between them, her body aching, but his restraint held firm.
They melted together on the couch, skin slick and hearts pounding, the fire outside mirroring the flames burning quietly between them.