The question, so softly spoken, hung between them like a shimmering thread of silk. Reina's lips still tingled from the near-contact, from the cool breath that had been a prelude to a kiss she now ached for. Every instinct, every fiber of her strange new existence, screamed yes.
But her voice, when it came, was a mere whisper of sound, a breath of consent. "Yes."
Jane's crimson eyes blazed with a fire that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. She closed the infinitesimal gap.
It was not the chaste, timid kiss of a first meeting. It was a claim. Jane's lips were surprisingly soft against her own, a cool, firm pressure that stole the air from Reina's lungs. It was a paradox—a gentle possession, a cool fire that spread from her mouth through her entire body, warming her from the inside out. She felt Jane's hand tighten almost imperceptibly on her jaw, not to hurt, but to anchor them both in this impossible moment. A low, inhuman sound, a vibration more than a noise, rumbled in Jane's chest and passed into Reina's, a primal acknowledgment of a connection that defied all logic.
Reina's hands, which had been hanging limply at her sides, came up of their own volition, her fingers tentatively finding the sleek black wool of Jane's cloak. She clung to it, her knuckles white, as the world tilted on its axis.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, it was over.
Jane tore herself away with a sharp, guttural inhale. She moved so fast she was suddenly five feet from Reina, her back turned, her shoulders tensed into a rigid line. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.
Reina staggered back a step, her own breath coming in ragged, confused gasps. Her lips felt swollen, sensitive. The loss of contact was a physical pain, a sudden, shocking cold. "Jane?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Did I… did I do something wrong?"
A harsh, ragged laugh escaped Jane, a sound utterly devoid of humor. She didn't turn around. "Wrong?" she spat the word. "No. You did nothing wrong. You are… perfection."
"Then why…?" Reina's question trailed off, lost in her confusion.
Slowly, Jane turned. Her expression was a mask of exquisite torment. The fire in her eyes had banked, replaced by a smoldering intensity that was somehow more frightening. Her gaze dropped to Reina's throat, to the frantic, fluttering pulse beating there like a trapped bird.
"Because if I had kissed you for one second longer," Jane said, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "I would not have stopped there. The scent of you… the taste of you on my lips… it is a siren's call to the monster I keep leashed inside." She took a single, deliberate step forward, her movement a predator's glide. "My control is a thread, little one. A single, fraying thread. And your life's blood sings a song that threatens to snap it."
The meaning, though veiled, was terrifyingly clear. The danger Reina had sensed from the three figures, the unnatural speed, the piercing eyes—it crystallized into a horrifying, thrilling understanding. Jane was not human. And Reina was fundamentally, deliciously, food.
Yet, the fear was a distant thing, overshadowed by the raw, aching need that Jane's nearness ignited in her. The emptiness inside her, the void where her memories should have been, seemed to echo with a single, resonant truth: this is where you belong.
"I'm not afraid," Reina said, and was surprised to find she meant it.
Jane's lips curled into a semblance of a smile, though her eyes remained deadly serious. "You should be." She closed the distance between them again, but this time she did not touch. She simply stood, allowing Reina to feel the cool aura of her body, to drown in the depth of her gaze. "The desire to keep you is a selfish, wretched thing. To have you near is a temptation I am not sure I am strong enough to resist. And yet… the thought of you walking away…" She shook her head, a barely perceptible movement. "That is an agony I will not endure."
The silence stretched, filled only by the distant sounds of the piazza and the frantic beating of Reina's heart. She looked at this beautiful, terrifying creature who spoke of monsters and agony, who had kissed her with a passion that felt like a homecoming. This woman was an anchor in the formless sea of her amnesia. The only thing that felt real.
"I have nothing," Reina said quietly, her green eyes searching Jane's face. "No past. No home. I'm a blank page. But when I look at you… I feel something writing on it. I don't understand it, but I trust it. I trust you."
Jane's rigid posture softened by a fraction of a degree. The torment in her eyes shifted, warmed by something akin to wonder. She reached out, and with a reverence that belied her earlier ferocity, she traced the line of Reina's cheekbone with the back of her cool fingers. The touch sent another shiver through Reina, but this one was purely of anticipation.
"Then come with me," Jane murmured, her voice a velvet promise. "Come to my home. It is a fortress, ancient and dark. It is not a gentle place. But within its walls… you will be safe. You will be cherished. You will want for nothing." Her crimson eyes held Reina captive, the offer hanging between them, thick with unspoken meaning and the electric charge of what was being promised, of what was being held at bay. "Say you will come."
Reina didn't need to think. The answer was already there, a truth written on her soul that no lost memory could erase. This was her choice. This was her beginning.
She placed her hand over Jane's, pressing the cool palm more firmly against her warm cheek. A silent acceptance. A pact.
A slow, genuine smile, breathtaking in its beauty and rarity, finally graced Jane's lips. It was a smile of victory, of possession, of sheer, unadulterated joy. "Good," she purred.
She turned, keeping Reina's hand firmly in her own, and began to lead her away from the piazza, away from the world of sunlight and humanity. They moved into the shadow of a narrow, winding street, the tall, ancient buildings closing in around them.
At the end of the alley, three figures materialized from the gloom as if formed from the shadows themselves. The massive one, Felix, and the lean, watchful one, Demetri. They bowed their heads slightly in deference to Jane, but their eyes—curious, assessing, and utterly inhuman—were fixed on Reina, the fragile, warm-skinned mystery held protectively at their comrades side.
Jane's grip on Reina's hand tightened almost imperceptibly, a silent signal. Without breaking her stride, she spoke a single, quiet command to the waiting guards.
"Inform the masters we have a guest." Her voice was no longer the whispering lover's; it was the cold, crisp tone of authority, the voice of a Volturi executioner. It sent a new kind of thrill spiraling through Reina, a mix of trepidation and a strange, dark excitement.
Felix gave a sharp nod and vanished into the darkness with preternatural speed. Demetri fell into step behind them, a silent, imposing shadow.
Reina looked up at Jane's profile, at the determined set of her jaw. "Your home… the castle. What's it like?"
Jane finally glanced down at her, and the cold authority in her eyes melted away, replaced by that same smoldering intensity, now mixed with a possessive warmth that made Reina's knees feel weak.
"It is a gilded cage for most," Jane said, her thumb stroking a slow, distracting circle on the back of Reina's hand. "But for you, my dear one… it will be a sanctuary. And I will be your keeper." She leaned in, her cool lips brushing the shell of Reina's ear as they walked, her whisper a promise and a threat that coiled deep in Reina's belly. "And I am so very hungry to begin."