"But you can't."
The heat surging through her body, the high of his blood still in her veins, the satisfaction of finally being seen—everything halted.
She stilled, body tense, her breath caught sowhere between a snarl and a whimper.
"Why?"
The single word was sharper than it should have been, edged with sothing violent, sothing furious.
Why?
Why couldn't she?
She had waited.
Suffered.
Starved.
And still, still, she was being told she couldn't.
Why?
Why?!
Her nails dug into the fabric of his uniform, frustration curling inside her like a storm, dark and volatile. She had seen it. All of it.
She had seen Irina standing before him, standing too close. Had seen Sylvie by his side, watching him with those eyes.
And they could.
They could stand beside him. Speak with him. Laugh with him. Touch him.
But she couldn't.
She wasn't allowed to.
She had no form, no presence, no existence outside of Maya's hesitation and restraint.
She was forced to watch.
Always watch.
Her breathing turned heavier, unsteady, her grip tightening further.
She hated it.
She hated it.
She hated how they could have him. They could stand next to him, be around him, as if they had so kind of right.
As if they were stealing him from her.
Taking sothing that should have been hers.
The thought surged through her like a wave of fire, blinding, consuming, suffocating in its intensity.
She wanted to kill them.
Erase them.
Rip them apart until they didn't exist.
Because he was hers.
The first one she had ever seen.
The first one she had ever tasted.
The only one she could ever taste.
Why should they get to exist around him? Why should they be allowed to breathe the sa air, speak his na, stand beside him—
When she couldn't?
Her breath shuddered, her grip tightening, her fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform. Her voice, when it ca, was a whisper—a tremor laced with venom, with raw, unfiltered rage.
"Why?"
Her body moved before she even processed it.
One second, she was gripping his uniform. The next, she had shoved forward, her strength surging too easily, too naturally.
A dull thud echoed through the room as she tackled him down.
The sheer force of it sent them both crashing onto the wooden floor, but only one of them struggled to adjust.
Astron.
For the first ti, he had been forced to react.
For the first ti, he wasn't the one in control.
And she felt it.
She felt it.
The way her strength overwheld him, the way she had taken him down effortlessly.
She was stronger.
Not just by a little.
By a lot.
And the realization sent a sharp, burning thrill racing through her veins.
Because Maya—**weak, hesitant Maya—**had never understood this.
Had never understood what she was truly capable of.
But she did.
She lood over him now, straddling his waist, her hands planted on either side of his head, caging him in. Her breath ca fast, uneven, burning with frustration, with fury, with sothing dangerously close to satisfaction.
His violet eyes stared up at her, calm, unwavering—even now.
And that only made it worse.
Her jaw clenched, her fingers digging into the floor beside him.
"Why?" she repeated, louder this ti, rawer, her voice trembling with anger. "Why can they stand beside you? Why can they talk to you, touch you, be near you—when I can't?"
She could feel it, the heat of his body beneath her, the solid weight of him pressed against the floor.
He was here.
She was here.
For the first ti—she was real.
And yet—she still couldn't have him.
Her breathing turned ragged, frustration and obsession coiling into sothing unbearable.
"You let them," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You let them stay beside you, and you look at them—but not ."
Her fingers twitched.
Her body was burning.
And he was so close.
Her hunger had always been about blood before, about taste. But now, it was sothing else, sothing far more dangerous, sothing deeper than thirst—
It was possession.
It was need.
She needed him to see her.
Not Maya.
Her.
She had waited, suffered, scread into the void for so long. And the mont she was finally free, the mont she was finally able to speak, to touch, to exist—
She was still being denied.
She trembled above him, her vision flickering red, her instincts screaming at her to take him, to make him hers, to sink her fangs into him again, to claim him in the only way she knew how.
And yet—
He just stared.
Calm.
Silent.
******
Astron lay still beneath her, violet eyes unwavering as he took in every detail—the tension in her arms, the way her breath ca too fast, the trembling restraint just barely holding her back.
This side of Maya.
This obsession.
It was far more dangerous than he had initially thought.
His mind processed it all, analyzing her behavior with cold efficiency. The way her hunger had shifted, how it was no longer just about blood but about sothing more. Possession. Control. An unrelenting fixation.
Her eyes were wild, her entire body trembling with need—not for sustenance, but for sothing deeper, sothing far more dangerous.
'She is unstable.'
That much was obvious.
But what was also obvious—was that she was useful.
His breathing remained even, asured, as he allowed himself a mont of detachnt.
For the past few months, he had begun to understand emotions, attachnts—how people ford bonds, how they acted based on feeling rather than logic. Slowly, through his experiences with Irina, with Sylvie, with Ethan, he had started to grasp sothing beyond efficiency, beyond survival.
And yet—
That part of him was still there.
The part that had been raised as a number.
The part that had learned to see things not as people, not as relationships—but as assets.
And that part of him looked at the trembling girl above him, at the sheer power she radiated in this mont, at the obsession that burned so deeply within her that it could override reason—
And it whispered to him.
She is useful.
Astron's fingers twitched slightly against the floor, his mind already calculating.
Maya's other side was a liability if left unchecked. That much was clear. With the way the academy operated, with how tightly it controlled dangerous elents, if she lost control—if she revealed too much—they would know.
And that was exactly what he had orchestrated from the beginning.
He had let this unfold. Let the academy notice. Because that was what he had wanted.
Control.
Over the situation.
Over her.
But she was too unpredictable, too raw in this state. If she was left as she was now, she would self-destruct.
'Then how do I handle it?'
His mind sorted through the options. Suppression wouldn't work. Restraint wouldn't either. This side of Maya had spent too long being ignored, too long being denied. If he forced her back into silence, it would only make her worse.
She needed to believe she had sothing.
A purpose.
A place at his side.
A reason to obey.
His gaze remained locked onto hers, his voice calm, deliberate, controlled.
*****
Astron lay beneath her, unshaken, unwavering, his violet eyes locked onto hers with quiet intensity.
She could feel it—his stillness.
It wasn't fear. It wasn't hesitation.
It was calculation.
He was watching.
asuring.
Understanding.
And it only made the fire inside her burn hotter, her fingers twitching against the floor, her breathing erratic.
Her hunger had changed. It wasn't just about blood anymore—it was about him.
All of him.
She wanted all of him.
So why—why was he denying her?
Her voice ca out in a whisper, low and trembling with sothing raw, sothing unstable.
"What if I just kill them?"
Her fingers curled into fists.
"Then, will you stay beside ?"
Her words lingered in the air like a dangerous promise, a whispered plea edged with sothing far darker.
Because she ant it.
If they were the reason she couldn't have him, if they were the obstacles standing between them—
Then she would erase them.
One by one.
Until there was nothing left but her and him.
She saw the flicker in his eyes. The way his pupils shifted slightly, the briefest change in his breathing—
And then—
He moved.
Faster than she could register.
Faster than she could react.
One mont, she was straddling him, caging him in—
And the next—
His arms were around her.
Tight. Secure. Unyielding.
His scent, his warmth, his presence—everywhere.
Her breath hitched, her entire body stiffening as he pulled her against him, his hold firm but not suffocating.
It wasn't restraint.
It wasn't dominance.
It was sothing far worse.
Sothing gentle.
His voice, when it ca, was quiet, steady.
"You do know it's not about them."
Her fingers trembled.
No. No, it has to be.
It had to be about them.
Because if it wasn't—if there was another reason—
Then it ant—
It was about her.
His hand moved against her back, slow, deliberate. Not possessive, not controlling—just… there.
A quiet tether, keeping her from sinking too deep, from unraveling completely.
"You can't be with ," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear, "because if you do, then the whole world will hunt you."
Her entire body stilled.
His next words ca softer, slower, laced with sothing almost… careful.
"And I don't want you to be hunted."
Reviews
All reviews (0)