Chapter 51: Good Night

Blanche opened one eye in the middle of the night, then immediately closed it again, suffocated by the heat, ready to fall back asleep. A strange heaviness weighed on her eyelids, as if her body refused to fully leave the other world, as if a part of her had remained hooked there, suspended somewhere between two realities.

But that was without counting on Eva, who was snoring so loudly even the dead would have woken up. Despite herself, worried, the redhead pressed a hand to her friend's forehead. Nothing. The last time she had made that much noise, it had been because of a bad cold... And yet, that night, there was something else.

A diffuse, imperceptible tension vibrated in the air, like a distant echo of what she had experienced a few hours earlier.

Impossible to fall back asleep. She got up in total darkness, waiting for her night vision to adjust to the dimness. Eva only slept in complete darkness, without the slightest sound; a true bat. And yet the silence felt unnaturally heavy, almost oppressive, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

It wasn't the living, comforting silence of the barracks, out in the wild.

Standing, she moved forward carefully, remembering at the last second that the layout of the brunette's room had nothing to do with her own. She made her way to the bathroom and splashed some cool water on her face. The contact made her shiver, abruptly pulling her senses back to reality. Her hands trembled slightly, lingering traces of adrenaline, of violence, of that unsettling euphoria that refused to leave her.

Going back under the covers changed nothing: ten minutes later, after tossing and turning, she gave up. Rather than wake Eva, she might as well get some fresh air. And besides... she wasn't sure she wanted to fall asleep again. Not if it meant ending up there once more.

Then again... killing goblins over and over had had a certain appeal. No need to think, no need to feel. A perfect outlet. And she felt light, almost euphoric, as if her body were floating.

That sensation still lingered, both disturbing and addictive, like a soft drug seeping into her veins. A part of her wanted more, and that thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit.

She slipped out of the room on tiptoe. Across the hall, Kiyan's door was closed. Was he already asleep? Blanche felt almost disappointed. A flicker of irritation, mixed with something more unsettling, tightened her chest. She didn't like this waiting, this growing need she didn't yet control.

She needed answers.

Needed to confront him.

She was going down the stairs when a flash of lightning lit up the living room. Outside, a storm was raging, a perfect reflection of her state of mind.

Rain lashed against the windows violently, each drop seeming to want to force its way inside, as if the outside world refused to remain at a distance. The wind howled, slipping through every crack, making the entire structure of the house vibrate in a low, continuous groan.

Two seconds later, thunder rumbled. A man stood there, facing the window, watching the elements unleash themselves. And what a man...

"Kiyan? " she whispered as she reached the last step.

He turned around. Bare-chested, wearing royal blue silk pants hanging just low enough on his hips to make her break into a cold sweat. By Babylon...

His slightly golden skin caught the flashes of lightning, highlighting every line of his sculpted torso with almost indecent precision. His broad, perfectly defined shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, where muscles tensed beneath his skin with each movement, like a restrained promise.

A fine line trailed down along his abdomen, drawing the eye despite herself, while the fluid fabric of the pants clung to his hips with calculated nonchalance.

His slightly tousled hair framed a face with sharp features, almost too perfect to be entirely human, and his dark, deep eyes seemed to absorb the lightning only to reflect it back—flashes of pure gold.

"It's the first time in a long while I've heard my name on your lips, " he said softly.

A bolt of lightning burst behind him, revealing his face like a scene from a movie. Blanche almost forgot why she had come downstairs, too busy staring at him. Her heart sped up despite herself, betraying a turmoil she was trying to contain. No. No way she was letting herself get pulled in.

" Excuse me. The night has been rough," she said sharply, stepping toward him.

No use denying it: she was very happy to see him. His mere presence was enough to calm part of the chaos inside her... while awakening another, far more dangerous part.

But he didn't need to know that.

"And it hasn't even started yet... " he said, pointing at the clock.

Three in the morning had just struck. She sighed and, for a moment, they watched the fury of the sky. Lightning flashed again and again, carving their silhouettes into a harsh, almost unreal light.

Between them, the air seemed charged with electricity, both literally and figuratively, each silence growing heavier than the words they did not exchange.

" You should call me by my first name more often... And use "tu" with me, " he whispered. His voice, low and velvet-soft, blended with the distant rumble of thunder, as if it were part of it, as if it belonged to this restless night.

"You knew... you knew I would come. And you said nothing. Why?"

The informal address felt strange. He did not answer. Not even a blink. She waited... a long time... too long. Silence stretched between them, dense, almost tangible, filled with everything that was left unsaid. Each second amplified Blanche's frustration, feeding a tension already ready to explode.

Fine. If he didn't want to talk, she had nothing left to do here.

" Good night," she muttered, turning away.

More to signal she was leaving than out of politeness. Now that she knew how terrifying his nights were, wishing him a "good night" felt almost cruel. The words hung in the air, fragile, almost ironic against the storm still roaring outside.

A new flash of lightning tore through the room—then arms wrapped around her. She jolted, frozen. The contrast between the violence of the storm and the sudden warmth of his touch completely unsettled her.

He pressed his bare chest against her back, one arm under her chest, the other around her neck. He had never touched her like this before. The heat of his skin immediately seeped through the fabric, spreading through her like an uncontrollable wave. His breath, close, brushed her nape at times, sending shivers she couldn't suppress.