Not that she wanted the police to find out and investigate the crime scene, because she's certain that the traces would lead them to her and complicate matters further, especially given the fact that she's just a migrant refugee coming from a war with no connection to anyone that would save her from getting out of trouble. Furthermore, she doesn’t know how to explain to the authorities how they were killed. Claw marks were all over the places, and no ordinary human being could do such thing. Except for Dylanyy, and he wasn’t a normal human being. In that case, no one would ever believe her story. She’s just starting a new life in a new place, things like that aren’t good for her. However, Rachel couldn’t help but be left in wonder as to why it was too quiet. Is it possible that Dylan had something to do with it? He must have cleaned up the messes so that no one would know what he had done. “Are you okay? You became quiet all of a sudden.” Craig’s voice took her out from her tranc
It kind of insulted her, but these foods are in a different argument. She stared at the meat, the corner of her mouth salivating at the juicy red complexion, and her stomach growled loudly by the sight of a good amount of foods stacked in her new refrigerator. “Damn! You’re making me hungry.” She groaned, eyeing the meat with ravenous intent. Her fingers drummed on the ref’s handle, swallowing the saliva that had accumulated on her mouth. After a brief period of self-deliberation, her subconsciousness finally comes around to her side. ‘Fine. Cook that fresh beef meat. Honestly, it looks tasty.’ “Now we’re talking!” She gleefully squealed, taking out the pack of meat in a speed of light, murmuring to herself when she realized she was having an internal war with her own being, “Heavens! I’m going crazy...” .... Dylan watches her at the corner of her apartment while conversing with herself, debating whether or not she should accept the meat that he had purchased for her. It
Rachel didn’t give Dylan a chance to explain himself and drive him off outside her bedroom, smacking and pushing him with a pillow, “Take it back then! | don’t want any of it!” “Go!” She cried out with one last push until Dylan stepped out from her room and slammed the door shut in his face. She was panting really hard. Her heart thudded in her chest like a thousand galloping horses. She leaned her back against the door, her tears kept on streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry. However, she wasn’t in control of it. They were an open well that kept on overflowing no matter how hard she tried to wipe them dry. He made her feel uncomfortable. She thought he was a burglar that came into her house and would mean her harm. She thought she was going to die, rape her dead body. There were so many things that were running in her head right now. She never sensed his presence. She didn’t know how long he was staying inside her apartment. He invaded her space once again. First
A skittering footstep came closer to then, and Helen raised her gaze to the girl in pink pajamas with a white box in her hand. “What happened, Dy?” Stacey dropped down to her knees as well, after handing the medicine box to Helen. Worry etched on her face, replacing all her sassiness aside. “It’s nothing potato. Go back to your room and do your assignments.” Dylan offered him a forced smile, reached his good hands, and patted her on the head. “Well, knowing that you weren’t acting like yourself made me lose my focus.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. The corner twitches as she scrutinizes him, “Now tell me, what the hell is going on?” “I’m just having a bad day from work. I promise this has nothing you should be concerned with.” Dylan said, lowering his gaze to his wounded hand, which is now Helen was cleaning. “Why do I feel that you’re keeping secrets from me?” Stacey chimed, pouting her lips in defiance. “If there are any secrets that I’m keeping, i
Craig halted with his steps and stared at her face. His eyes squinting while his gaze fixed on her lips. Rachel got conscious a little bit and averted her eyes on him. “Anyways, did you use some lip plumper on?” He voiced out his perplexity, still looking at her lips with befuddlement. “What’s a lip plumper...?” Rachel didn’t get it at first. She touches her lips and then realizes what he is talking about. Her cheeks are even more flushed as she recalls the events that led up to it all, “Oh, that’s right. Yes. Curiosity got the better of me, so I tried some on.” She quickly reasoned out, urging her feet to continue walking, and dipped her head, making her hair blocks the view of her flushed face. ‘Damn that wolf!’ She internally muttered, cursing on Dylan’s name for doing it to her. “It suits you, but your natural lips look better,” Craig commented, matching up with her steps and sweeping her hair off her face, and tucking it behind her ears. “Do you ever run out of complim
Rachel blinked, averting her gaze away from her, and pretended as if she didn’t see what she did, then putting on an innocent expression, asking the woman, “What is it, ma’am?” “I want you to clear my table when I get out.” She replied, taking the table napkin and putting it in her lap graciously. Rachel knows why she wants her to clean her table. She deliberately put the money under the plate for her to take it undetected. She chewed her lower lip as she pondered for a moment. She remembered what Martin had said to her about morals and a code of conduct during the decorum, and that he had specifically instructed her not to accept tips from customers. If she is ever caught, it will put her job in jeopardy, and her track record will not be as clean as she would have liked it to be. “Ma’am...” She was about to decline, gripping the metal tray she held tightly, but the woman held up her index finger, cutting her off. “Now, young lady, please understand that I am insistent.” “A
The exhausting day went through. From the opening shift, Martin asked Rachel to extend and take overtime, both Craig and her. She couldn't say no since she would receive night differentials to compensate for it, even though she was already exhausted from running back and forth to the kitchen and bringing the customers' orders to their table. She thought she could go home early and reminded herself to buy a padlock to replace the broken one using the tip given to her. Unfortunately, Martin called for her last minute when she was about to punch out in her daily time record. After Helen finished with her orders, Rachel made sure that she would be the one to clean up her table. Though she hasn't expected that she will give her a hundred-dollar tip. She kept her surprised expression to herself and pretended that she was wiping the crumbs off the table. She cupped her hand at the edge of the table and swept the rag across the table before taking the money and slipping it between her fing
Alerted by her scream, Craig turns around. His face turned from worry to annoyance when he saw the man standing behind her. A pair of large hands clamped down on her shoulders. He rubs the side of her neck with his thumbs slowly, raising the tiny hairs on her body and releasing the countless butterflies that have taken up residence on her lower belly. A sharp intake and exhales of hot breath breathe blowing at the top of her head. Dissipating the rush of cold air around them and the palpable burgeoning tension thickens the atmosphere. “Move away from her,” Craig demanded. His brows knitted closer to each other as he stepped forward. Challenging the other man with his stare. “What did I tell you, boy? Didn’t I clearly say to stay away from her?” Rachel’s back vibrated with his dangerous voice, threatening. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at Craig with a terrified expression. Not for herself but of what might he do to him. “Craig, please, go.” She uttered, her voice a
Rachel stood before the floor-length mirror in her bedroom, staring at her reflection—not for vanity, but to make sure she still recognized the face staring back. Her eyes no longer flashed silver. Her aura no longer surged uncontrollably. The storm within had stilled, but that quiet carried its own kind of warning.She pressed a palm to her chest. The bond that once strained her soul felt like a scar now—healed but never forgotten. She wasn’t Elira. But Elira was now, undeniably, a part of her.A soft knock on the door broke the silence.“It’s open,” she called.Stacy entered, holding a tray with toast and Nyra’s herbal tea. “If you skip another meal, Dylan’s gonna drag you to the kitchen himself.”Rachel gave a soft smile. “Thanks.”Stacy set the tray down and sat on the edge of the bed. “So… you really feel normal again?”Rachel paused. “I feel different. But not unstable.”Stacy studied her carefully. “What does that mean?”“It means I feel like me. Just... upgraded.” She gave a s
The air was still. Heavy. The kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums, stretching time itself. Rachel sat at the edge of the ritual circle, the same one that had nearly torn her apart hours earlier. Her legs were folded, spine straight, palms resting against her knees. Her breathing was steady now. No silver light. No flickers of power. No whispers from Elira. Just silence. For the first time in weeks, she felt... alone in her own mind. And yet, not. ere You’re different,” Stacy said, standing in the doorway. “Even your posture. It’s like you’re still you, but... more.” Rachel opened her eyes slowly. “Because I am.” Stacy walked in, barefoot, cautious. “You said you chose both. What does that mean?” Rachel looked up, meeting her gaze. “It means I didn’t destroy Elira. I accepted her.” “You *what*?” “She’s not whispering in my head anymore. She’s part of me. Not separate.” Stacy sat down across from her. “That sounds... dangerous.” “It is,” Rachel admitted. “But d
The air was still. Heavy. The kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums, stretching time itself.Rachel sat at the edge of the ritual circle, the same one that had nearly torn her apart hours earlier. Her legs were folded, spine straight, palms resting against her knees. Her breathing was steady now. No silver light. No flickers of power. No whispers from Elira. Just silence.For the first time in weeks, she felt... alone in her own mind.And yet, not.ere You’re different,” Stacy said, standing in the doorway. “Even your posture. It’s like you’re still you, but... more.”Rachel opened her eyes slowly. “Because I am.”Stacy walked in, barefoot, cautious. “You said you chose both. What does that mean?”Rachel looked up, meeting her gaze. “It means I didn’t destroy Elira. I accepted her.”“You *what*?”“She’s not whispering in my head anymore. She’s part of me. Not separate.”Stacy sat down across from her. “That sounds... dangerous.”“It is,” Rachel admitted. “But denying her
The wind outside the penthouse howled like something ancient had awakened. The eclipse was a few hours away. The sky had already begun its transformation—its deep blue turning pale gray, clouds crawling like shadows ready to devour the sun. Inside, the wards pulsed steadily, glowing brighter than usual, reacting to the shift in the air.Rachel sat at the dining table, staring at the untouched tea Nyra had made for her. She hadn’t spoken since waking. Not to Dylan. Not to Stacy. The conversation with Elira echoed in her skull like a warning bell she couldn’t silence.Only one of us survives.She didn’t know what that meant—not really. But every time she blinked, she saw Elira’s face burned into the backs of her eyelids, watched her vanish into cracked sky, felt the weight of a promise she hadn’t made.Stacy sat across from her, arms folded over a book, watching. Not reading. Just there. Waiting.“I don’t like this,” Stacy said quietly.Rachel didn’t respond.Stacy tapped the book once.
Rachel watched the horizon from the balcony, the last hint of dusk melting into darkness. The city sparkled far below, distant and untouched by the chaos that stirred in her veins.Inside her chest, two truths warred for dominance: the Warden’s calm confession and Elira’s searing rage.She still didn’t know which one to trust.The door behind her opened. She didn’t have to look.“You haven’t spoken since the vision,” Dylan said.Rachel nodded, but said nothing.He stepped beside her. “Say something.”“I’m trying to make sense of it.”“Of what? That the Warden didn’t throw her into the fire, she *asked* for it?”She turned toward him. “Would you believe me if I said I understand?”His eyes narrowed. “Understand what?”“The desire to give up before losing control.”Silence fell between them.Dylan’s jaw tightened. “Don’t ever say that again.”“I’m not giving up. I’m saying… I get it now. The pressure. The weight. Elira was breaking, and no one listened. Not until it was too late.”“You
Rachel stood under the freezing shower, water crashing against her skin, but it did nothing to quiet the storm inside. Her fingers had stopped glowing, but the sensation lingered—like Elira’s presence was still coiled around her spine, watching her every move.She braced her hands against the tiled wall, breathing heavily, letting the cold slice through her thoughts.She could still hear Elira’s voice.*“Too late.”*Dylan waited outside the bathroom door. He hadn't said a word since they’d rushed her out of the circle. Nyra had wanted to run a full energy purge. Rachel refused. She didn’t want to be cleansed. She wanted to understand.The water turned off. Moments later, the door opened, steam spilling into the hallway. Rachel stepped out, towel around her shoulders, her expression unreadable.“She’s not a voice anymore,” she said. “She’s a presence. A force.”Dylan nodded slowly. “She’s merging.”“No. She’s *moving.* She’s done waiting for me to break.”“Then we stop her.”Rachel lea
Rachel didn’t sleep.She lay on the cold marble floor of the training room, eyes open, watching the rune marks pulse faintly in the dark. The moment her eyes flickered silver, something inside her had shifted. She could feel it—quiet, subtle, but alive. Like another presence pressed just behind her thoughts.Dylan found her an hour before sunrise.“You didn’t come back to bed.”She didn’t look at him. “I didn’t want to risk it.”He walked to her, crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’ve been quiet since the flare.”Rachel finally sat up, brushing her hair back. “Because I felt her. Not just her memories. Her voice.”Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “She spoke?”Rachel nodded. “She said my name. Not Elira. Mine. She said, Rachel, don’t fight me.”His jaw tightened. “That’s new.”“No,” she said. “That’s a warning.”Dylan didn’t speak for a long moment.“I need to accelerate the training,” she said.“You’re already pushing your limits.”She looked at him. “Not fast enough.”“I won’t
Rachel stared at him. The Warden of Ash. Cloaked in dark gold, unmoving beneath the red-hazed sky. “You ordered her execution?” Her voice echoed unnaturally. “You watched her burn.” He didn’t flinch. “Yes.” “Why?” “She became a threat.” “You were supposed to protect her,” she snapped. “I was supposed to protect *balance*,” he replied calmly. “Elira disrupted it.” “She was fighting for peace.” “She was choosing annihilation.” Rachel’s hands balled into fists. “She was betrayed. Lied to. Cornered.” “And she made a choice,” he said. “One that endangered every realm tied to the moon’s gift.” She stepped closer. “And now I carry her soul. What does that make me to you?” The Warden looked her in the eye. “A warning.” “To who?” He tilted his head. “To everyone who still believes power and peace can coexist.” Rachel's jaw tightened. “You're scared of what I might become.” “I’m not scared,” he said. “But I am prepared.” “For what?” “To stop you if history rep
Rachel gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles pale against the wood. “She wasn’t alone.”Dylan raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “You mean at the execution?”Rachel nodded slowly. “Someone was there. A man. Tall. Cloaked in gold and black. He stood behind the crowd. He never moved. Just… watched.”Nyra leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “The Executioner?”“No,” Rachel said firmly. “She didn’t fear him. She looked right at him. Not with fear. With *recognition*. She *knew* him. Right before the flames reached her, she found him in the crowd.”“What did she say?” Dylan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.Rachel's throat tightened, but she forced the words out. “She whispered… ‘You were supposed to protect me.’”Dylan’s jaw clenched, and his fists tightened at his sides. “Who the hell was he?”“I don’t know,” Rachel said, voice quiet. “But I’ve seen his eyes before. Not in the memory. Recently.”Nyra froze. “Describe them.”Rachel met her gaze, the image burned into her mind.