Elysia didn't know what she was doing.
Her body had moved before her mind could catch up, her fingers wrapping around Malvoria's wrist as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Why? She had no answer.
No logic. No explanation.
All she knew was that the mont Malvoria had turned to leave, sothing in her had panicked.
Sothing deep, sothing unspoken, sothing she didn't want to na. So she had reached out.
She had stopped Malvoria.
And now—
Now she had to deal with the consequences. The air in the room was thick, heavier than it had been re monts ago, suffocating in its intensity.
Malvoria had gone completely still, her body rigid under Elysia's grip, as if frozen in ti.
She didn't pull away. But she also didn't move closer.
Didn't react. Didn't breathe.
The silence between them stretched unbearably, making Elysia's pulse pound in her ears.
Her fingers twitched slightly against Malvoria's skin.
Why aren't you letting go?
She should.
And yet...
She couldn't.
Her heart was slamming against her ribs, butterflies breaking free in her stomach despite her desperate attempts to shove them back into their cage.
This was bad. This was so bad. She had no plan. No excuse.
No way to explain why she had just done this. She wasn't supposed to care if Malvoria left. She wasn't supposed to care.
And yet, as the warmth of Malvoria's skin seeped into hers, as she felt the slight, barely-there tremor in the Demon Queen's pulse, as she looked up—
Her throat dried completely.
Malvoria was looking at her.
Really looking at her.
Grey eyes, sharp and piercing, filled with sothing dark, sothing unreadable, sothing that sent an entirely different kind of shiver down Elysia's spine.
It wasn't anger. It wasn't amusent. It wasn't even mockery. It was sothing else. Sothing dangerous.
Sothing terrifying.
And for so gods-damned reason—
It made Elysia's breath catch.
Her grip tightened, just slightly.
Malvoria's lips parted, as if to say sothing—
Then hesitated.
Her brows furrowed, her body tense, as if she was waiting. Elysia's stomach flipped.
What was she waiting for? An explanation? A reason? A gods-damned confession?
Heat rushed to Elysia's face.
No. No, absolutely not.
She was not about to give Malvoria the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.
Of seeing her weak. Of seeing her affected.
So, instead—
She forced herself to speak.
But, because apparently she had lost every ounce of common sense, the words that left her mouth were not the ones she had intended.
"You're avoiding ."
The second she said it, she regretted it. Malvoria's expression shifted instantly.
The tension in her shoulders twisted into sothing else, sothing more defensive, sothing closed-off.
"I've been busy," Malvoria said flatly.
Liar. Elysia narrowed her eyes.
"You've been hiding."
Malvoria's gaze flickered. For just a second. A mont.
Barely anything at all.
And yet—
Elysia saw it.
The hesitation. The guilt.The truth.
Malvoria was avoiding her.
And the realization made sothing tighten in Elysia's chest.
Why?
Why was she avoiding her? Why did it bother her so much?
Elysia inhaled sharply, forcing herself to keep her voice steady.
"I don't understand," she muttered, shaking her head slightly. "You were the one who—"
She stopped herself. Swallowed. Malvoria's eyes darkened.
"I was the one who what?"
Her voice was low. Too low. Too careful.
Elysia clenched her jaw.
She didn't want to say it. Didn't want to bring it up.
Didn't want to acknowledge the words that had been haunting her for an entire week.
But Malvoria was staring at her, unrelenting, and Elysia hated feeling like she was the only one drowning in this ss.
So she pushed back.
"You were the one who said your heart does weird things."
The words left her in a rush, quick, impulsive, reckless.
Malvoria tensed imdiately. Her grip on Elysia's wrist tightened, just for a fraction of a second, before she let go entirely, stepping back.
Her face shut down.
All emotion—gone.
All warmth—erased.
And for so stupid reason—
It hurt.
Elysia hated that it hurt.
Malvoria exhaled through her nose, tilting her head slightly, her expression unreadable.
"You've been thinking about that," she said, voice unreadable.
It wasn't a question.
Elysia's face heated instantly.
"I—no—"
Malvoria's lips twitched. Not into a smirk. Not into sothing teasing. Into sothing small.
Sothing Elysia couldn't place.
"Good," Malvoria murmured.
Elysia blinked.
"What—"
Malvoria stepped closer again. Not enough to touch. But enough that Elysia could feel her presence.
Feel the heat rolling off her skin.
Feel her scent—dark, smoky, sothing intoxicating—wrap around her like a vice.
"You want to hear it again?" Malvoria murmured, voice lower now, softer, more dangerous.
Elysia's throat dried completely.
Her pulse spiked. She took a step back, instinctively. Malvoria followed.
Elysia's spine hit the wall.
Malvoria's hand ca up, resting lightly against the wall beside her head—not caging her in, not quite, but close enough that Elysia suddenly felt like there wasn't enough air in the room.
"I—I don't—"
Malvoria tilted her head.
Her grey eyes glead.
Amused.
Sharp.
Unrelenting.
"What do you want to hear?" she murmured.
Elysia's breath was uneven, her pulse hamring against her ribs, and she could feel every inch of space between them—except there wasn't any, not really, not anymore, because Malvoria was so close.
Her body radiating warmth, her presence suffocating in a way that made Elysia's stomach twist and her thoughts tangle into sothing she didn't want to na, sothing she refused to acknowledge, because if she did, she might just drown in it completely.
The weight of Malvoria's gaze held her in place, grey eyes locked onto her with an intensity that sent fire racing through Elysia's veins, scorching every ounce of reason she had left, leaving her standing there, trapped against the wall.
Heart pounding so loudly she was certain Malvoria could hear it, could feel it, could sense the way her breath hitched every ti their bodies nearly brushed.
Malvoria didn't touch her.
But she was everywhere.
Her scent, dark and smoky and overwhelming, coiled around Elysia like a vice, wrapping itself into her lungs, making it impossible to think of anything else but her—only her—and gods.
Elysia hated it, hated the way Malvoria could unravel her so easily, with nothing but the weight of her presence and the way her lips curled just slightly, just enough to let Elysia know that she knew, that she saw her struggle, that she felt the way Elysia was fighting to keep herself from doing sothing reckless, sothing stupid, sothing that would change everything.
And then Malvoria spoke.
"Do you want to tell you," she murmured, voice dark and smooth, sliding over Elysia's skin like silk, "that every ti I see you, I want to fuck you?"
Elysia's breath caught, body tensing imdiately, fire creeping up her neck, heat curling in her stomach so violently it made her dizzy.
Malvoria's lips tilted upward, barely, as if she savored the reaction, as if she had been waiting for it.
Her voice dropped lower, the air between them thick and charged.
"Or that every ti my heart beats, it's because of you?"
Elysia's fingers twitched.
Sothing inside her lurched.
She wanted to deny it, wanted to fight it, wanted to pretend like those words didn't make her stomach flip, like they didn't make her chest ache with sothing unbearable, sothing suffocating, sothing she wasn't ready to face.
Malvoria leaned in closer, slow, deliberate, eyes never leaving hers, never wavering, never giving Elysia a single second to breathe.
"Or that I want to kill every person that makes you smile," Malvoria continued, voice barely above a whisper, "when you hardly do it with ?"
Elysia's throat closed completely.
Her heartbeat slamd against her ribs, panic and heat mixing into sothing volatile, sothing that made her weak in ways she didn't know how to fight, sothing that made her helpless against the pull of the woman in front of her, against the way Malvoria's presence wrapped around her like an inescapable storm.
The words echoed in her head, tangled around her thoughts, refused to let her go.
Because Malvoria ant them.
Every single one.
And that was dangerous.
That was too much.
That was everything.
Malvoria's face was close now, so damn close that Elysia could feel her breath, could see every detail of her—her silver hair spilling over her shoulders, the way her lips were barely parted, the way her lashes cast faint shadows across her cheeks.
She wasn't smirking. She wasn't mocking. She was waiting. Not kissing her. Not touching her. Just there, so painfully close, and Elysia didn't know why.
Didn't know how. Didn't know when she had lost the battle against herself. Didn't know when she had given up.
Didn't know why she—
She kissed her.
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