CH- 41

CH- 41
Aria POV

I wake to the sound of rain against the windows.

It’s gentle at first, almost lulling—until I realize every drop is hitting the glass in perfect rhythm with my heartbeat.

I sit up too quickly. The room tilts.

My fingers curl against the sheets, and when I pull them back, my nails are sharper. Not just longer—pointed.

Silver glints along the edges.

I suck in a breath.

No. No, no, no.

The mirror across the room catches my reflection. For a second, I swear my pupils slit like a predator’s.

The mark on my neck pulses—three separate pieces now, all glowing faintly, weaving and unweaving like serpents.

It hurts, but it’s the kind of pain that’s almost… intoxicating.

The door opens without a knock.

Lorien steps inside first—still pale from what happened days ago, his movements deliberate but weighed down by something heavier than exhaustion. His eyes sharpen the moment they land on me, piercing through whatever mask I’ve tried to wear since waking up. He doesn’t need words to tell me he knows something’s wrong.

Sebastian follows, leaning against the wall like he’s trying to look casual, unaffected. But it’s all a front. His hands are clenched into fists so tight his knuckles gleam white beneath the dim light. The tension radiating off him is almost tangible, crackling in the air like static before a storm.

Neither of them speaks at first. They just look at me. Studying. Searching. Waiting for me to break under the weight of their stares.

Finally, Lorien breaks the silence. “Your eyes.”

I shake my head quickly, brushing off his concern—or accusation—with a dismissive wave of my hand. “It’s nothing—”

“You’re lying.” Sebastian cuts me off, his voice low and razor-edged, laced with something darker than anger. Danger. “I can smell it on you. You’re changing.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut, forcing me to take a step back even though I know there’s nowhere to run. The room feels smaller now, shrinking around us as if the walls themselves are closing in. The air hums faintly, charged with energy that shouldn’t exist here. Bonds twist and strain between us, taut like drawn bowstrings ready to snap.

“Tell us what happened,” Lorien demands, his tone calm but unyielding, steel hidden beneath velvet. There’s no room for evasion in his voice. No mercy either.

I swallow hard, my throat dry despite the effort to keep breathing evenly. My gaze darts between them, searching for an escape route that doesn’t exist. “I… saw him.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightens, the muscle ticking visibly as he forces himself to stay still. When he speaks, his voice is quieter, deadlier. “The third.”

I nod once, barely perceptible, but enough to confirm what they already fear.

“He’s not like you,” I whisper, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. “Not a vampire.”

Something flickers across Lorien’s face—fear? Recognition? Whatever it is, it vanishes too quickly for me to be sure. But I see the way his fingers twitch subtly, like he’s resisting the urge to reach out and grab me. To pull me closer or push me away—I can’t tell which.

The bonds between us twist suddenly, violently, sending a shudder racing down my spine.

It’s instinct—their instinct and mine—that makes us move simultaneously.

Lorien takes a step toward me; Sebastian mirrors him, both closing the distance without hesitation.

Their presence presses against me, overwhelming, suffocating. The three-way pull is almost unbearable, dragging at every nerve ending until it feels like I might split apart.

“You can’t choose him,” Lorin says sharply, his voice cutting through the chaos like broken glass. His gaze locks onto mine, fierce and unrelenting. “You can’t.”

My breath catches, rage bubbling up hot and raw in my chest. How dare he think he gets to decide? How dare either of them?

“You think I want this?” I snap, my voice rising, cracking under the weight of everything I’ve been holding back. “You think I asked for—”

The mark flares mid-sentence, white-hot, and I double over, clutching my throat.

They’re both beside me instantly—Lorien gripping my shoulders, Sebastian pressing a hand to my back.
The heat spreads, curling through my chest, into my limbs, down between my legs until I’m trembling for entirely different reasons.

Sebastian’s breath is hot against my ear, his voice low and urgent. “You’re burning.”

Lorien’s tone is sharper, edged with something closer to panic than I’ve ever heard from him. “She’s fracturing.”

The mark pulses again—harder this time, searing through me like molten fire. It doesn’t stop at my skin; it radiates outward, rippling through the bonds that tie us together.

Both of them feel it now—their grips tighten on my arms, fingers digging in as if they’re afraid I’ll shatter into pieces right in front of them.

When it finally subsides, I’m left gasping for air, sweat dripping down my temples, hair plastered to my face.

My chest heaves as I struggle to focus, blinking away the haze of pain long enough to look up at them. Really look at them.

And I see it.

Not just worry—not even fear.

Possession.

Their eyes burn with it, fierce and unrelenting, each of them claiming me in their own way. Lorien’s gaze is possessive but desperate, like he’s trying to hold onto something slipping through his fingers. Sebastian’s is darker, hungrier, like he’s already imagining how far he can push me before I break—or give in.

“You can’t have both,” Lorien mutters, almost to himself, his jaw clenched so tightly I think he might crack a tooth. His hands flex against my arms, pulling me fractionally closer, staking his claim without words.

Sebastian smirks, slow and dangerous, leaning back against the wall like he owns the room—and maybe me along with it. “Maybe she can.”

Something in me twists at that, liking the idea far more than I should. The thought of being untouchable, unstoppable, belonging to no one… or everyone.

It sends a thrill racing through me, quick and electric, cutting through the lingering ache of the mark’s burn. But it’s fleeting—a momentary distraction before reality crashes back down.

Then the pain comes again, sharper this time, slicing through me like a blade honed too fine. And beneath it—something else.

A third pulse, slower, colder, deliberate. Silver threads weave themselves into the chaos inside me, foreign yet familiar, wrapping around my core until I can’t tell where I end and it begins.

It’s him.

And he’s laughing.

My nails dig into Lorien’s arm as I choke out the words, my voice raw and trembling, barely audible over the storm raging inside me—

“He’s coming through the bond.”