The glass door shuts behind her with a sharp snap, swallowing the bar's warmth and replacing it with the freezing dawn air.
Snow falls in a heavy curtain, muffling the city's sounds, muffling even the beating of a heart.
And Sion is there.
Motionless.
Leaning against his car like a sculpture carved from black marble, his back rigid, his features locked, the cigarette glowing between his trembling fingers.
The ember lights up his face in irregular flashes—and every time the glow hits him, you can see the tension in his jaw, the fracture in his gaze, the madness sleeping just behind the golden iris.
When his eyes meet Nari's—
He crushes the cigarette on the ground without even watching it fall.
Then he walks toward her.
One step.
Another.
Slow.
Calculated.
Like a predator who has already decided the fate of its prey.
Nari doesn't even have time to inhale.
His hand closes around her nape—hot, hard, firm—his fingers sliding under her hair like a complete act of possession.
He yanks her forward with a brutal gesture, slams her against his chest, against his cold coat.
His mouth crashes onto hers.
A kiss.
No—
Not a kiss.
A slap.
A bite.
A declaration of war.
His teeth pull on her lower lip, mark it, keep it.
His tongue forces its way in—possessive, demanding, starving.
Nari swallows a whimper against his mouth.
And while he kisses her as if he wants to make her disappear inside him…
… his eyes stay open.
Fixed on the dark window of the bar.
Fixed on Kai's shadow.
Seeing him.
Provoking him.
Defying him.
Killing him without raising a hand.
And slowly, deliberately, Sion tightens his grip on her nape, tilts her head, grabs her hip, and bites her lip just hard enough to leave a red, wet, violent mark.
A mark Kai can see.
A mark that says:
She belongs to me.
Nari feels her breath stop.
Snow falls in silence around them.
The world becomes a white blur, except for Sion's eyes—burning, feverish, far beyond reason.
He yanks open the passenger door and pushes her—gently, yet with supernatural control—onto the seat.
She nearly collapses, her knees shaking, her lip still throbbing from the bite.
He rounds the car.
The driver's door slams.
The engine roars.
And the car disappears into the snow, its tires screaming on the frozen asphalt.
⸻
Behind the Black Orchid's window…
Kai doesn't move.
Not a breath.
He watches the red mark on Nari's lip even as she disappears into the night.
He watches Sion take her away.
His fists clench.
So hard his nails break the skin.
So hard a thin line of red drips down his palm.
A dull rage.
Black.
Absolute.
Kai murmurs—too low to be heard, too dangerous to be repeated:
"I swear…
he's going to pay."
Sion's place, 6:11 a.m.
The door slammed so hard the walls shook, as if the building itself was holding its breath.
Melted snow dripped from their coats onto the floor, forming cold droplets on the wood, but neither of them cared.
Nari ripped off her coat, her shoes, her dress—everything flew around her like pieces of herself she wanted to destroy.
Her heart pounded against her ribs—too hard, too fast, too painfully.
She wasn't human anymore.
She was an electric surge, a scream, a craving.
She threw herself at him.
Not a word.
Not a hesitation.
Just the raw collision of two beings devouring each other to survive.
Her hands seized his shirt, yanked violently—buttons popped off and bounced on the floor like stray bullets.
The fabric tore with the sound of something being buried alive, she clawed his chest, her nails carving red lines into his skin, she bit his lower lip until the taste of blood exploded in her mouth—hot, alive.
She wanted to feel him, drown in him, erase the tears, erase Kai's scent from her skin, erase Aera's voice in her head, erase everything except him, except the pain that kept her standing.
Sion didn't move for one second.
Then he reacted.
His hand closed around her throat—brutal, possessive—his fingers squeezing just enough for her to feel the air catch, just enough for her to feel alive, to feel owned.
He slammed her against the wall, the cold plaster against her bare back, her chest crushed against his, his golden eyes locked on hers—wild, torn, magnificent.
— You're late, he growled, his voice rough, low, a vibration against her skin.
— I know…
Her throat trembles under his fingers.
— You were with him.
— No…
— Liar.
He leaned in, his nose brushing her neck, inhaling slowly, deeply, like an animal marking its territory.
I smell his scent on you. On your skin. In your hair.
She closed her eyes, the tears spilling harder, burning, salty.
— It's nothing…
— It's everything.
He pressed his forehead to hers.
Their breaths collided, crashed, mixed in a rhythm that felt like an argument, a prayer, a war.
He lifted her suddenly—a reflex, a claim, an act of rage as much as of love—his hands tightening under her thighs, pulling her against him as if he wanted to melt her into his skin, dissolve her in his bones.
He slammed her harder against the wall, plaster crumbling slightly under the violence, he ripped her underwear off with a sharp gesture, the fabric tearing with a loud, obscene snap, falling in black scraps on the floor.
Sion was trembling.
From jealousy.
From craving.
From fear too, maybe.
He enters her.
In one thrust.
Brutal.
To the hilt.
She screams.
A raw scream, torn, coming from the belly, coming from the soul, a scream of pleasure and pain intertwined, of release and punishment.
He fucks her like someone punishes.
Like someone claims.
Like someone kills.
Every thrust is a claim.
Every growl is a promise.
Every tear he licks from her cheek is a seal.
— Tell me you're mine.
His voice vibrated with tender cruelty, with a plea buried under the anger.
— I'm yours…
— Louder.
She closed her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes, her heart on the verge of exploding.
— I'm yours, Sion!
He brought his mouth to her ear, his teeth grazing her skin, his breath burning with an almost animal intensity.
— You're still lying.
— Never…
— Then scream louder.
His fingers dug into her waist, yanking her back against him with a brutal gesture.
— Never make me wait like that again.
He slowed for a second, just to look at her, just to see her dark eyes drowned in tears, her swollen lips, her throat marked by his fingers.
He flipped her over in a brutal motion, pressed her on her knees on the couch, one hand in her damp hair, the other on her throat, pulling her back, her spine against his chest, her breasts rising with each ragged breath; he entered her again, deeper, harder, more desperate.
She felt her own voice tremble, fragmented, scattered between their tangled breaths.
This wasn't desire anymore.
It wasn't love.
It was a storm.
A devouring.
A free fall.
Until nothing was left of her except her name in his mouth.
The room was still saturated with heat and the smell of sex, the air humid, the sheets wrinkled around their bodies.
Only the two of them.
Only their breaths, sweaty, pressed against each other.
Nari whispered, her voice broken, cracked, a dust of breath against Sion's lips:
— I love you, Sion…
And he tightened around her, so hard she felt her ribs protest, his burning mouth sliding against her ear, his voice trembling—not with softness, never softness—but with pure possession, with a madness that gnaws beneath the skin:
— Would you die for me, Nari?
She doesn't even have time to open her mouth.
BOOM.
The front door explodes against the wall in such a violent crash that the window vibrates, the lamp shakes, the floor resonates under the impact.
And a voice—deep, authoritative, icy—cuts through the apartment like a cannon shot:
— SION. ARE YOU HERE?
Silence tears open.
The universe flips.
Sion freezes.
His smile twists—strange, a mix of defiance, panic, and sick excitement.
He runs a hand through his hair, lets out a nervous laugh.
— Shit… it's my father.
Nari felt her heart stop instantly, her chest lock up, a sharp panic racing up her throat, burning.
— WHAT? YOUR FATHER?!