Chapter 48: Hunger in Her Veins
They stayed the next night too.
And the one after that.
Neither of them talked about leaving. The outside world didn't reach this place — not past the fogged windows, not past the hush of old walls, not past the silence that curled warm and strange between shared glances and half - spoken things. The house had become a kind of spell — cracked at the edges, haunted by memory, but untouchable in its stillness.
Selene still slept like a soldier — back to the wall, blade within reach, senses half - awake even in sleep. But she didn't keep her distance anymore. Not from Aria. And Aria — Aria was no longer pretending not to watch her.
It wasn't safety she sought when she looked at her.
It was something else.
It had started small, the kind of small that set whole worlds on fire. A glance. Selene reaching for a mug on the top shelf, her shirt lifting just enough to show the line of muscle along her lower back. Aria had looked away — too slow. Her stomach flipped, her breath caught, and when she reached for the kettle, her hands were trembling.
The ache had already started by then — deep and low and unrelenting.
Selene hadn't said anything.
But Aria felt the shift. It changed the air between them. Sharpened it. Charged it. Like something waiting to be lit.
That night, the storm hadn't come, but the air felt thick enough to expect one. They sat in the living room again, the fire a low, steady burn. Aria curled up in the oversized armchair, legs tucked under her, wrapped in an old blanket that smelled faintly of cedar. Selene sprawled on the rug like a bored wolf in a too-small den, her long limbs stretched out as she flipped through the battered copy of Aria's childhood favorite.
Aria's voice broke the quiet. "I used to think the heroine was fearless."
Selene didn't look up. "And now?"
"I think she was just desperate not to be forgotten."
Selene turned a page slowly. "There's a kind of courage in that. Wanting something that much, even when it hurts."
The words lodged in Aria's chest like heat. She tightened the blanket around her, more for the illusion of control than actual warmth.
Selene shut the book.
The sound was soft, but final.
She sat up.
And then she stood.
Her shadow stretched long across the floor, flickering with the firelight. She crossed the room in silence, not rushing, not hesitating. Aria didn't move. Couldn't. Her whole body had gone still.
Selene stopped in front of her.
Close. So close Aria could feel that strange, lingering chill that clung to her skin — like night air, like distant snow, like something not born entirely of this world. It didn't scare her anymore.
It called to her.
Selene dropped to one knee.
One hand rested on the arm of the chair. The other slid beneath the blanket without asking, her touch brushing the soft curve of Aria's ankle.
Aria sucked in a breath.
That featherlight contact sent a jolt all the way through her. Her legs shifted under the blanket, her thighs tightening as if her body was trying to chase the touch deeper.
Selene's head tilted. Her voice was low, cool. "You're warm."
"It's been hot lately," Aria mumbled.
Selene didn't smile. Not really. Just watched her, her fingers drawing idle shapes along the bone of her calf. "You flush easily."
Aria swallowed. "I'm fine."
"You keep saying that."
"I am."
Selene leaned in. Her breath ghosted over Aria's skin — cool, sharp, and infuriatingly steady. "Then why do your legs tense every time I touch you?"
Aria didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
Selene's voice dropped even lower, right at her ear. "You don't even know what you want, do you?"
"I know —" Aria's voice cracked. "I'm not — hungry."
That earned her a quiet laugh, more breath than sound. Selene's hand slid higher, over her shin, up the back of her knee.
"No?" she murmured. "Then why are you wet?"
Aria froze.
Her mouth opened — but no sound came out. She hadn't noticed it. Hadn't realized until Selene said it. But now the heat between her legs was undeniable, the ache worse, her body humming with need like static under her skin.
Selene leaned back, just enough to look at her face.
"You're lying to yourself," she said gently. "But your body isn't."
Aria's cheeks burned. "You —"
"I gave it to you," Selene said. Her fingers slid just under the edge of the blanket. "That ache."
Aria's breath hitched. "What are you doing to me?"
Selene touched her cheek with the backs of her fingers, soft and deliberate. "Every glance. Every time I said your name. I've been preparing you."
"Preparing me?" Aria echoed, dazed.
"You feel it, don't you?" Selene's gaze dropped to her mouth. "The pull. The hunger. Like something inside you opened — and now nothing else will satisfy it."
Aria blinked fast. "Why do you talk like that?"
"Because it's true."
Selene kissed her forehead.
Not soft. Not sweet.
Claiming.
A cool brand pressed to fevered skin.
"I could take you apart," Selene whispered. "Piece by piece. Slowly. And you'd let me."
Aria's breath trembled. "You sound so sure of yourself."
Selene's lips brushed her jaw. "Because you haven't told me to stop."
Aria didn't. She couldn't. Her mouth was dry, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Selene's hand moved lower — back to Aria's knee — and stayed there. Still. Waiting.
Aria looked at her. Really looked. The quiet hunger behind her restraint. The way she knelt like she was holding herself back from something violent and beautiful all at once.
"You want me to beg?" Aria asked, voice husky.
Selene smiled then — slow and devastating. "I want you to admit you already are."
The tension snapped.
Aria surged forward — not to kiss her, but to close the space between them, her body curling into Selene's. Selene caught her easily, arms slipping around her waist like she'd been waiting for it. The blanket fell off Aria's lap. She didn't care.
Their bodies pressed flush.
"You're a menace," Aria whispered, breath caught in her throat.
"You like it."
"I hate how much I do."
Selene nuzzled along her neck. "Then hate me later."
She didn't kiss her lips. Not yet.
Instead, she pulled her closer, slow and deliberate. Letting their skin brush in maddening near - touches. Aria's oversized hoodie slipped off one shoulder. Selene kissed the exposed skin — cool lips, firm pressure. Aria's fingers tangled in her shirt.
One kiss.
Aria had asked for one before.
Now she didn't dare.
Not unless she was ready to burn.
And god, she was close.
But Selene pulled back first. Just a little. Just enough to let the moment breathe.
Her voice was steadier than it had any right to be. "You should sleep."
"Why?" Aria whispered, dazed. "Afraid I'll try to jump you?"
Selene's smirk returned. "I'm afraid you'll succeed."
She stood and walked toward the hall, boots soft against the floor. Aria followed her with her eyes, dazed and aching.
"Selene?"
Selene paused at the doorway.
Aria's voice was quiet. "I don't want space tonight."
Selene didn't move for a beat. Then nodded once, slow.
"Then keep the bed warm."
And she disappeared into the dark.
Later, Aria lay in bed — alone, blankets twisted around her legs, her body still humming like a struck chord. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Selene's mouth on her skin, the press of her voice behind her ear. Her thighs ached. Her chest ached.
But it wasn't emptiness.
It was the hunger.
Not gentle.
Not clean.
Selene hadn't kissed her.
But she'd done something worse.
She'd made her want.
And now, Aria couldn't un - want her.
The house creaked quietly around her. The scent of firewood lingered. Outside, the rain had returned — soft and steady. But inside her, something else stirred. Something colder. Wilder.
Not fear.
Not even desire.
Need.
Selene had carved it into her without ever breaking skin.
And Aria —
She wanted more.
She wanted ruin.
She wanted to be consumed.