The words hung in the air, a final, fragile thread of humanity. Are you ready for me?
Reina's answer was a single, sharp nod, her body arching infinitesimally closer in absolute surrender. It was all the permission Jane needed.
The initial touch was exactly as Reina had felt moments before: the whisper-soft press of Jane's lips against the hammering pulse in her throat. A kiss. Then, a precision so sharp it was almost surgical. Two points of exquisite, piercing pleasure. Reina gasped, her fingers curling into the silken sheets, not in pain, but in shock at the sheer intensity of the sensation. It was a vibrant, electric current, a direct line to every pleasure center she possessed. Her mind, so empty of history, was flooded with a new, singular memory in the making: Jane's mouth on her skin.
For three glorious, heartbeats, it was euphoria. A moan escaped her lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated bliss. She felt Jane's cool arms tighten around her, a possessive embrace, and the faint, appreciative hum that vibrated against her neck.
Then the fire came.
It was not a gradual shift. It was an inferno igniting in her veins, a torrent of liquid agony that exploded from the twin punctures and raced through her body with violent speed. The pleasure was incinerated, replaced by a burning so profound, so complete, that her back bowed off the bed. A silent scream locked in her throat, stolen by the sheer shock of the sensation.
Her blood was no longer blood; it was venom. It felt like molten lead, coursing through her, searing every nerve ending, cooking her from the inside out. Her heart, which had been beating a frantic rhythm of anticipation, now struggled against the viscous, burning fluid flooding her chambers. It labored, a dying drum against the cage of her ribs.
Jane's weight shifted, her lips leaving Reina's neck. She gathered Reina's thrashing form into her lap, cradling her like a child. One cool hand smoothed back the sweat-damp hair from Reina's brow while the other held her firmly against the impossible chill of her own body—the only anchor in a world dissolving into fire.
It's alright, Jane's voice was in her mind, a cool balm against the psychic scream of her nerves. I am here. I have you. Let it burn. It must all burn away.
Reina couldn't form words. Her consciousness was fracturing under the onslaught. Visions, fractured and meaningless—a flash of a dark alley, the glint of steel, a voice offering a choice—danced at the edges of the consuming fire before being devoured. The emptiness inside her, the hollow void where her past should have been, was now filled with a punishing, purifying flame.
Days bled together in a haze of torment. She was aware of the stone chamber, of the eternal twilight that seeped through the high window. She was aware of the constant, soothing murmur of Jane's thoughts in her head, a lifeline tethering her to reality. She was aware of the chilling touch of a damp cloth on her forehead, of the way Jane would sometimes hum an ancient, haunting melody when the pain hit a particularly vicious peak.
The physical world began to fade. Her sight dimmed, then failed completely, plunging her into a blackness filled only with heat and pain. Her hearing went next, the sound of Jane's humming vanishing into a high, distant ring. She was a mind trapped in a furnace, a soul being unmade.
Through it all, Jane never left. Her presence was the only constant, the icy pole to Reina's scorching equator. She was there when Reina's heart gave one final, shuddering beat and fell still. She was there when the venom completed its work, and the human body of Reina Durant was officially, irrevocably, dead.
The pain did not cease with death. It changed. The burning sensation began to recede, but in its wake came a new, terrifying nothingness. A void of sensation. A silence so deep it was a noise in itself. This was worse. The fire had been an agony, but it was something. This was the cessation of everything.
A sound. Faint, like a drip of water in a vast cavern. Then another. It was the rhythm of… a heart? But not her own. It was slower. Powerful. A steady, relentless thrum that vibrated through the stone beneath her and the arms that held her.
Mine, Jane's voice cut through the void, clearer than ever. You are hearing my heart. What you feel is my stillness. Reach for it.
Reina, a speck of awareness in the dark, focused on that sound. She latched onto it, making it the center of her new, barren universe. Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.
Then, a scent. Not with a nose she no longer possessed, but with her very essence. It was Jane. The fragrance of cold stone, of ancient incense, of a particular frost-kissed rose—it was the smell of her, and it was the most beautiful thing Reina had ever perceived.
A sliver of light. Not through her dead eyes, but directly into her mind. The image of Jane's face, etched with a concern so deep it looked like pain, her crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dim light.
Piece by shattered piece, a new perception of the world began to assemble itself around her dormant form. It was a puzzle of heightened senses, each one clicking into place with an almost audible snap.
The crushing silence of the castle was now a symphony of minute details—the scuttle of a beetle deep within the stone walls, the sigh of the wind against the tower battlement three floors above, the near-silent footfalls of someone approaching the chamber door.
The handle turned.
Jane's head snapped up from where it had been resting against Reina's, her body going preternaturally still. A low, warning growl rumbled in her chest, a sound Reina felt more than heard.
The door opened just a crack. "Jane?" a smooth, feminine voice whispered. Heidi. "Aro inquires after the transformation's progress. He is… eager."
Jane's response was a blade of ice. "The progress is mine to know. He will be informed when there is something to tell. Leave us."
The door shut without another word.
Jane's attention returned to Reina, the protective fury melting away into that same intense focus. Her cool lips pressed against Reina's temple. No one will disturb us, she promised, her mental voice softer now, almost a croon. This time is ours alone. Just a little longer. Can you feel it? The new strength?
Reina could. A faint hum of raw, untested power was beginning to stir in her limbs, lying dormant beneath the paralysis. It felt like lightning waiting for a storm.
When you wake, Jane whispered, her mental voice dipping into a intimate, sensual timbre that promised everything, this emptiness will be gone. I will fill you. I will show you what eternity can feel like. Her cool fingertips traced the line of Reina's jaw, a ghost of a touch on her motionless face. I will show you pleasures that would have killed the woman you were. I can scarcely wait to taste you.