-Chapter Start: Continuing, August 14th, 6:38pm
Meihua eventually placed a gentle hand on her brother’s shoulder, guiding him to rise with an effortless grace that made the moment feel rehearsed, yet still warm. Her smile lingered as she turned to me—measured, elegant, but with just enough mischief to keep it from feeling formal.
“I trust you’ll enjoy what comes next.” Meihua spoke. “Dinner will arrive shortly, and the performance... well, consider it a private welcome.”
Yaozhi gave a dramatic sigh, though his eyes glinted with amusement.
“You’re in for quite the evening.” He added, offering a small flourish with his hand. “Try not to fall too hard. We’d hate to lose a VIP this early.”
Before I could form a proper response, they slipped away into the ambient warmth of the lounge, their departure as fluid as their entrance. I exhaled. Their conversation had left me slightly off balance, but not in a bad way. Like a new rhythm I hadn’t quite learned, but one they didn’t expect me to master right away. The pressure wasn’t there, only the invitation.
My eyes dropped to the drink Yaozhi had left. There was a note tucked beneath it:
‘For the anxious and tantalizing, from the bold and daring. Take a sip.’
Its glow remained… A soft blue pulse like light caught under ice. I hesitated, weighing my options on if I should or not…
Several moments passed…
I reached for the glass and took a sip, and something unwound in my chest. It was smooth, with a cool sweetness that touched the roof of my mouth like silk. Whatever was in it, it paired surprisingly well with the lingering richness of the appetizers.
Vex approached again, her steps more relaxed this time, her posture tilted in a way that felt confident, not commanding. She placed a new menu down in front of me, slimmer than the last, wrapped in textured black leather with silver-etched lettering.
“If you're feeling adventurous.” She said, voice a breath above a whisper. “Might I suggest one of these?” She tapped near the bottom.
“The Kiss of Death. Subtle at first, but it tends to unlock... hidden thoughts.”
Her smile curled, revealing just a little too much tooth. Not threatening, just a reminder of what she was. Her finger drifted upward. “Or there’s the warm embrace of Amour’s Folly, for the particularly daring. Of course, if they’re not to your taste…” Her voice dipped into a conspiratorial whisper. “You could always tempt one of the staff to finish... With you, of course.”
I swallowed, pulse hitching as I tried not to read too much into her phrasing. “U-uh, th-thanks.” I mumbled, skimming the menu more to look busy than actually read. “Can I try, maybe… both?”
Something in her expression sharpened. An amused glint that said curious choice, but also good one. She leaned close again, her voice dropping an octave.
“A sampling of both Amour’s Folly and a Kiss of Death... for our vveerryy special human VIP.” Her voice lingered deliberately on the final words. Up close, the slow drawl of her tone exposed a row of distinctly canine-like teeth—predatory, seductive, and unapologetic. A shiver rippled across my skin as she straightened up slowly, the smile never leaving her lips.
Quickly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the metal card Dio had given me, sliding it onto the table. Ronnie had said to show this on any orders. Vex’s eyes widened slightly, not in surprise, but intrigue. With a renewed smile, she jotted something else on her notepad.
“They’ll be right out.” She said, turning with a flick of her hips and a final glint of gold escaping her eyes. I let out a shaky laugh and drained the last of the moonlight-blue drink, nudging the glass away like that might help clear my head.
Several minutes passed as I nestled back into the seat, the warmth of the lounge slowly entrancing me. At some point, the curtains on the main stage lifted to reveal a gorgeous wooden floor, polished to a mirror shine. It looked like it belonged to a first debut despite the lights still dim. It could easily hold five or six people, more than I had assumed. My mind drifted, wondering how Dio and his staff crafted such a space where beings so different could interact with such seamless grace…
Then…
A stunningly attractive woman stepped out from the side of the stage, her pacing was slow, and was holding a large fan over her face.
“Hello…” she whispered, her words laced with a repressed hypnotic undertone. She glided to my side. “May I sit with you for a moment?”
“I-I, uh, s-sure.” I slid over, making ample room.
A small, pleased squint flickered across her gaze as she sat beside me. I was so distracted by the subtle iridescent green of her scales, I hadn’t noticed the massive crystalline mass she held in her other hand. She gently placed it on the table, it glittered with an otherworldly spectrum of shifting colors.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
She turned to the crystal with a smile far too wide for a normal human. “To allow me not to harm those so close.” Her voice came stronger this time, the initial hypnotic edge now barely there.
Turning toward me, fan still partially obscuring her face, she added. “Rumor is, Dio gave you tonight’s VIP. An incredibly rare honor... especially on this occasion.”
She began to slowly close the fan, as if testing how much of her presence I could handle.
“Y-yeah, I’m just as shocked as the rest.” I chuckled, though a new scent, savory and warm, wafted close. A strange weight settled in my chest.
“Honestly, I’m completely out of my element here. Feel like I need Valia’s confidence…”
I paused, realizing too late how much I’d said. She blinked, then her smile expanded… Far too wide, far too delighted. A soft cascade of giggles escaped her lips, then burst into full-bodied laughter. The crystal on the table hummed with resonance. The lounge quieted for a few seconds, caught in the echo of her joy. She covered her mouth with a small webbed hand, bowing apologetically, before the room returned to its usual murmur.
“Oh my, you’re Daegon?” she whispered again, her gaze now brimming with dangerous curiosity. “Do the others know?”
“I-I, uh, don’t know?” I stammered… And that’s when Selvyn, the snake-woman from earlier, slithered in from the left, pushing a cart.
“Venomous ssslicesss, recommended firssst.” Selvyn announced brightly, her slitted eyes drifting over to the woman beside me with an amused glint. A medium-sized covered plate was set before me, though her hands lingered on the lid a moment longer than necessary. “Will you be dining with our VIP, Sssongsssstresss?”
“Mayhaps.” the Songstress replied smoothly, tilting her fan just slightly, her gaze slipping to mine. The decision was mine to make, but she made it feel like a dare.
She leaned in, her fan subtly blocking Selvyn’s view as her voice dropped into an intimate, barely-audible hum. “I can fetch your lover here, too. I heard she just arrived.”
“Th-that would be great.” I managed to squeak out, heart already stammering from her proximity as I looked away, ears hot.
“Very well.” Selvyn purred, finally lifting the cover from the dish with a deliberate motion.
My pulse slammed to a halt.
Even the Songstress paused, her expression faltering and mouth slightly ajar. Her eyes flicking from the plate, to me, and then to Selvyn with quiet amusement. The lamia, however, stood poised and proud, like this was all perfectly expected.
“Fermented honeycomb.” Selvyn began, voice now smooth and slow as silk. “Ssserved alongside pickled vegetables and a delicately balanced hot sauce.” She let the moment linger before the kicker. “Paired with the finessst local cured Sssserpentsss, cut to perfection.” Her smile deepened, fangs peeking through. “All venomousss. All dangerousss.”
“I…” My throat closed. Words failed. Breath barely made it through.
Lilith howled with laughter. Loud, echoing, merciless.
Selvyn’s tongue flicked once, catching my stunned expression. Her head tilted, curious to my indecisions. Then, without breaking eye contact, she slithered slowly around the table, her body dipping low and quiet as she moved. She didn’t stop until she reached the other side, then slid the rest of her body beneath the table entirely. A cool pressure coiled around my leg. Her coil was firm, but not restricting. Just… there, reminding me of what she was.
I barely had time to process it before she brought up a fork with unhurried grace from her belt. With almost ritualistic care, she stabbed a bite of the cured meat, lifted it to her lips, and chewed… Slowly. Her head tilted ever so slightly with the motion, her tongue flicking just once as if tasting something far more delicate than what she had described.
“Deliciousss.” She murmured, her voice rich and sultry, her satisfaction genuine.
Then, with one last playful squeeze of her tail around my ankle, she withdrew and returned to stand at the head of the table. She moved like she just danced through a secret, hers alone to savor.
A larger dish appeared next, placed with deliberate care on the side.
“Braised elk, in ssspiced gravy.” She said smoothly, her voice once again clipped and professional. A clear shift, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.
Then came the drinks in two distinct glasses, each catching the low lights of the lounge like tiny enchantments. Selvyn’s voice hummed. “Amour’s Folly and… the Kissss of Death.”
“Selvyn.” the Songstress purred from beside me, fanning herself gently. “Can we get a priority on the same meal our VIP has, for a special guest of his? And have our ‘favorite tease’ booked for the rest of the night to deliver, extra spicy.” The songstress paused, glancing back over to me for a moment. “If she’s not up for an all-nighter, tell her the delivery will be all.”
Selvyn bowed slightly, offering the barest grin. “But of courssse.”
With that, she slid away once more, coils whispering across the polished floor like silk over marble. I sat in silence for a beat, then slowly lifted my gaze from the plate before me, still dumbstruck by my own ignorance.
“I ordered snake… from a snake.” The words fell out. Flat. Like they could somehow make it better. The Songstress gave a soft, musical giggle, like wind chimes catching a private joke.
“Selvyn’s going to be sad, knowing you belong to Valia.” She said, her tone lighter now, conversational. “I think she really likes you.”
My head tilted slightly, still recovering. “Is that… bad?”
“She’s very sweet, for a predator.” the Songstress said with a smile. “But her relationships don’t usually last long for the other person.”
“I…” I paused, drew a breath, and looked back at the dish. “Well. She really liked it.”
Unwrapping the silverware that had somehow appeared beside me, I picked up the fork. Hand just a little shaky, I stabbed a piece of serpent and…
A delighted giggle burst from the Songstress, light and gleeful, like a ribbon of sound that wrapped itself around my hesitation.
The Songstress kept me preoccupied with gentle, meandering conversation—just enough to settle my nerves as I finally managed to finish the ‘Venomous Slices’. But every time I so much as reached for the elk dish, she pounced with another casually-delivered verbal ambush.
“How many times have you and Valia… you know?”
“How did you win that illusive heart of hers?”
“Do you really think you can keep up with Valia… in that regard?”
“Ever wonder how other beings might treat you?”
Every. Time.
Each question was more outrageous than the last, and I fumbled through them with the grace of a short-circuited automaton. The elk dish remained untouched. My dignity? Somewhere under the table with Selvyn’s tail. Then came the sound of salvation: another cart rolling up. I looked toward it like it was carrying divine intervention, only for that hope to promptly die as a sultry, all-too-familiar voice cut through the air.
“Our lovely Songstress can make me purr, sure… But only one man makes me howl—and I don’t think it’s you.”
The cart stopped just past the center of the table.
“So you can look all night…” the voice purred closer, dragging each word like velvet across bare skin. “But you’ll have to call Vex if you… want to… touch… someone…”
Valia stood beside the cart, cloaked in an obsidian-toned ensemble—an asymmetrical, form-fitting top that left her back and midriff exposed. It framed the gradient of her fur perfectly, flowing from deep charcoal grays into the stark whites of her undercoat. Silver accents shimmered from her tail and hair, the latter cascading over one shoulder in a sleek, waterfall-like spill. She looked like a storm dressed for a gala.
“Daegon?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Confusion etched every syllable, laced with that same sharp curiosity she’d worn the first night she saw me use Lilith’s eyes.
I could only nod, stunned. I knew she was coming, but I hadn’t expected… this. She looked unreal, like something that had stepped out of a dream with claws.
She recovered faster than I did, of course. But her tail betrayed her as a single sharp lash waved through the air, a rare, unguarded burst of feeling.
“Oh my… So, it really is him. With Dio’s card, no less.” the Songstress cooed as she snapped her fan open with a flourish, shielding my view. I could hear them murmuring. A few words exchanged, soft but purposeful. Valia glanced at the tray, then back to me, clearly piecing things together.
The fan snapped shut again.
“Apologies, Daegon.” the Songstress said sweetly, her tone brushed with that ever-present hypnotic cadence. “Seems I can’t delay my performance any longer. Do try not to fall for me while Valia’s still within biting distance.”
With that, she rose gracefully and departed, the subtle shimmer of her scales, iridescent pinks and silvers, flickering like pearls in motion on her back.
Valia blinked. Still slightly dazed, she looked at the larger plate still hidden under its cover, then to the smaller cart she’d brought herself. She frowned… Then let out a huff that turned into a helpless laugh.
“That… absolute bitch! I love her.”
She chuckled again, this time with real amusement, one hand on her hip, tail curling with a life of its own.
“You’re going to have to explain how the hell you set this up. How’d you even know I was working tonight?”
“So, let me get this straight.” Valia said after taking a generous bite of elk and wiping her maw with one of the fancy napkins. “You’ve been plagued by a celestial entity, delivered mail all day without realizing it was your partner…”
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She paused, then slid one of the four drinks we’d collected, courtesy of Vex, toward me. This one looked like it had been poured straight from midnight: pitch black, with threads of crimson glinting-like veins of lava. The liquid shimmered faintly, catching the low light of the Lounge with an almost hypnotic gleam. Kiss of Death, if I had to guess.
Valia lifted her own glass, her eyes half-lidded as she took a delicate sip. I followed, nerves crackling beneath my skin, and took a deeper one than intended.
It hit slow, first a creeping cold that unfurled through my chest like inhaling deep winter air. Then came the warmth, curling along my spine in sinuous streaks, each one painting a trail of heat behind the chill. Like sorrow chased by lust. Like mourning chased by fire.
Just as the drink settled in, the Lounge began to dim, as if the drink itself had been a signal. The stage lights flickered on with soft, pulsing glows. Valia, unfazed, didn’t miss a beat. She lifted her glass again with practiced grace, her voice as cool as the drink’s first chill.
“Zylas gets topped off with your blood… Lucky her, by the way, for you being so convenient. Then you decide to keep that being around even after she’s exposed. Lord hands you the baton of some cursed book, and you end up in Dio’s office for your last delivery, and he just slides you a VIP card?” She punctuated the question by plucking another slice from her Venomous Slices tray and popping it into her mouth.
“It… was a bit more than that, but yeah.” I said, laughing lightly as I cut off another piece of elk and paired it with a sliver of onion. Every bite was still an explosion—juicy, warm, perfectly spiced.
“And then.” Valia said, carefully separating a chunk of honeycomb and placing it atop a fresh piece of meat. “You turned down Vex, twice, ordered mystery food thanks to her suggestions, accepted a plate of snake from Selvyn, and sat with the Songstress like it was nothing?”
She took a bite of her creation and closed her eyes with a low, rumbling hum of pleasure. She looked like she was melting from the taste. Her whole body relaxed, posture softened, as if something in the flavor transported her somewhere safe.
“That’s… yeah. That’s about it.” I gave a nervous laugh and leaned back slightly, trying not to outright stare, but miserably failing. Even clothed, or maybe especially clothed like this, Valia became even more impossibly captivating.
“And to think…” she murmured, eyes flicking open just as I glanced away. “You didn’t even dress up. If I didn’t think you’d be gobbled up, I’d let the girls give you a once-over like they did me. With the way you’re eyeing me, they obviously worked their magic.”
The blush hit hard, scalding hot. I peeked back up just as she began layering more honeycomb onto another cut of elk. This time, though, she made the bite smaller, pierced it with her fork, and extended it toward me at eye level.
“What?” She cooed, leaning in slightly, voice a purr of challenge. “Afraid I’ll bite?”
I hesitated; eyes locked on the honey as it started to droop. Then, before I could overthink it, I leaned forward and took the bite directly from the fork. The sweetness of the honeycomb mixed perfectly with the elk’s rich, warming juices. The textures, the contrast… It was bliss layered over an already decadent night...
“If I had any stress left…” I mumbled around the mouthful. “Your bite would erase it.”
I leaned back with a content exhale, arms stretching wide unconsciously. My hand brushed something soft, either fur or her hair, and when I opened my eyes, Valia was looking at me, amused and just a bit confused.
“Did you just say… what I think you said?” she asked, her grin growing wider by the second.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied quickly, a nervous smile creeping across my face as I leaned forward again to cut another bite. This time, adding some of my leftover honeycomb from the Venomous Slices like Valia was doing.
The stage lights shifted, focusing downward to reveal an elegant yet peculiar chair—ornate and curved, almost throne-like, but clearly not for a human. At its base, a large basin rested, wide and deep enough for someone to kneel in. Sprites shimmered in the air above, their blues and greens casting soft glows as they fluttered and danced, leaving trails of sparkling mist in their wake.
“Looks like she found inspiration enough to sing.” Valia said, pleased, watching as the mist gently began to rain into the basin below.
“Who?” I asked, stealing another glance of Valia’s attire. I didn’t get far—Valia caught the motion instantly and let out a triumphant huff.
“The same lady who told me my only job tonight was you.” She teased, sliding a bit closer. Her tail curled behind me now, lazily brushing along the back of the seat. “Sooo… don’t worry about anything, and enjoy yourself.”
She paused to take another bite, then turned back to me with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“Oh, and if you get charmed by her, we’re gonna have issues.”
The basin was filled with clear, glassy water that shifted in gentle waves, mimicking a miniature ocean caught in eternal twilight. Mist drifted above its surface like breath over cold glass, curling and dancing beneath the lounge’s dim lights. A single, golden beam illuminated the ornate, curved chair at the center—its surface now gleaming like moonstone carved by ancient tides.
Valia inched closer, her interest in the remnants of her meal all but vanished as she drew the glowing crystal centerpiece nearer to us. A pure, solemn hum began to drift from behind the stage—wordless, melodic, full of something that felt older than language. I set my utensils down, the clink lost in the building ambiance, and leaned back into the embrace of the seat. The water in the basin responded, its rhythm growing in time with the music, sloshing from side to side in slow, sacred grace.
The crystal before us began to shine—a soft pulse at first, then a blooming kaleidoscope of shifting colors, light spiraling upward in delicate threads. I glanced across the lounge and saw other tables reflecting the same phenomenon, their crystals coming alive in quiet communion with the melody.
I felt the faintest tap of Valia’s tail behind me, and I turned to steal a glance at her. Her eyes were alight, wide and riveted on the stage. I reached around, trying to slide my hand behind her to her far side—but I misjudged the angle and brushed lightly against her back.
She tensed… Not startled, but in anticipation, and leaned in before I could retreat.
“Ooh?” she whispered; voice laced with a slow, molten mischief. Her tone wrapped around me like warm silk. Then she pressed in close, letting no space remain between us. Her hand, both careful and calculated, rested on my leg.
Her fur was soft where it brushed my arm, and her dress—almost as soft, silken shimmer—shifted as she moved. The scent of her filled the space around me: earthy, sweet, and faintly musky, like the petrichor that follows a summer rain. It grounded me, stirred something ancient in my chest.
And then, she appeared.
The Songstress.
Her voice never faltered, carrying that same haunting melody as she glided onto the stage. A delicate fan veiled her face, save for her eyes—twin tides, deep and shifting. Her dress was a masterpiece of shimmer and subtle allure, glinting like a chilled cocktail of white and arctic blue, and it clung elegantly to the curves of her green-scaled form. She stepped onto the platform and seated herself gracefully in the chair, her feet slipping into the water with a ripple that mirrored the music.
The air shifted again. Her voice’s allure intensified, not louder, but more enveloping, a presence that spread like warm fog or a rising tide. It smoothed the atmosphere, soothing every breath, before gently fading to a sweet, aching whisper.
The crystals dulled in color, humming softer, as the music paused—save for the sound of the flowing water, the only remaining thread. Then, from the edge of the stage, a new glow was born. An orange-gold glow, like firelight on wet stone. A bass-thick thrumming resonated outward, followed by the slow, deliberate footfalls of a being that exuded presence.
“A Cambion: half blessed, half cursed.” Lilith murmured through me, her voice faint but edged in fascination, just enough for Valia to hear.
He emerged like a herald of old myth, massive and radiant. His shoulders were broad and beautifully sculpted, like bronze left out to drink the sun. His skin gleamed with living warmth, a molten bronze carved with glowing runes. They pulsed like a second heartbeat, shifting from ember-red to sun-gold, alive with music only his body could hear.
Long, dark hair framed his face, braided and looped with filaments of gold thread. A faint halo shimmered behind him, the memory of a divinity long outgrown. From his back, wisps of wings flickered—neither feather nor flame, more suggestion than form, like the shadows of something sacred that had burned itself hollow.
His eyes were molten metal—soft and intense—and he carried his strength like a secret, quiet but undeniable. A half-smile tugged at his lips, not arrogant, but knowing.
The bass of his hum wasn’t just heard, it was felt. It reverberated through the lounge like the beat of some vast and ancient drum, striking the ribs and humming in the marrow.
And when he finally spoke, his voice rolled over us. Velvet steeped in fire and honey, smooth and smoldering.
“From fire and flood, from hymn and hunger... she sings. Listen closely, and you might remember something you never knew.”
A shiver passed through me, involuntary. My hand, without thought, found Valia’s waist and held tighter.
The mist swirled in response. As he finished speaking, it receded like tide pulled by moonlight, only to return moments later thicker and glowing faintly with reflected crystal light.
The water in the basin surged with a crash, resonating like thunder. Its echo merged with the Cambion’s beat, creating a percussive undertone that blanketed the lounge in sound and silence both.
Then, the Songstress moved.
She closed her fan, and her expression shifted. Melancholic, yet majestic. The energy in the room hushed. Her feet, once delicately submerged, shimmered and faded, replaced by a tail. It was immense and blackened like volcanic glass kissed by moonlight. The surface was ancient, almost fossilized in its texture, with crescents of iridescence chasing through dark blues and deep teals. It curled beneath her like some half-forgotten sea leviathan, cradling her gently as she prepared to sing anew.
The lighting shifted to a soft candlelit gold, shadows dancing across the mist as if waltzing to the sound of her breath.
And then, just one note.
Crystal-clear, impossibly gentle, yet it carried through the lounge like a thread pulled taut through every listener’s chest.
The sound spun out into the air like silk unrolling, and with it came light. Auroras of color billowing outward like ocean waves painted in moonlight. Ribbons of luminescence curled around the table crystals, which responded with soft hums and a glow that fractured like starlight. Some even cracked at the edges. Not from pressure, but from the unbearable ache of something too beautiful to contain.
She sang.
Every syllable fell like a drop into still water—measured, perfect, and rippling with the ache of centuries. Her voice was not a performance, but a prayer. A confession. A communion that asked nothing but offered everything. Below her, her massive tail swayed in rhythm with some unseen tide, as though even her body answered the song’s call.
I’ve sung for storms and silent seas,
For fleeting hands and midnight dreams,
But none have lingered—none have stayed,
All hearts, like tides, must slip away…
Her gaze lowered, and with it, the lights dimmed into dusk-like hush. Her expression was hollow and human in a way that transcended species—low-lidded, tear-brushed, haunted by restless nights and promises that died in someone else’s hands. Yet the Cambion’s thrumming heartbeat carried on beneath her like a sacred drum, and the basin waves lapped gently as if moved by the ache in her voice.
No one breathed. Not a cough. Not a whisper. Then, she inhaled: A deep, intentional breath that filled the lounge with tension…
And sang again.
Her voice returned with new strength. Not just in tone, but in purpose, as though something buried had been unearthed. Her eyes scanned the crowd… and found us.
Yet here you sit—so close, so near,
A man of scars, a wolf of fear,
And in your gaze, a tether forms—
A binding not of spell… but warmth.
Though her gaze wandered, her presence pinned us to the moment. Her voice didn’t ask for attention—it demanded we see each other. Her tone dared truth; her eyes made promises no words ever could.
As if pulled by invisible strings, Valia and I turned to each other. Her vibrant blue eyes were wide, shimmering with something between awe and vulnerability. My breath caught. The crystal on our table had dimmed, yet it still pulsed faintly with the lingering allure of her voice.
And then, her voice rose again, and the water’s surface cracked with another wave.
Does she bite where others scarred?
Do you hold her when you’re marred?
Do your monsters sleep beside—
Or guard the pain you cannot hide?
A single tear fell.
Tiny.
Silent.
Missable.
But Valia saw it.
The Songstress’ words cut clean and deep, threading directly through the spaces I kept hidden. I didn’t need to speak. I didn’t need to explain. I just gave Valia the smallest nod, and in it was every truth I’d never said aloud. Then, I turned back to the performance, heart thundering.
The basin had grown, the water expanding beyond its original shape. The Songstress, now half-veiled in mist and magic, floated above it, her form fluid and ethereal. Waves crashed against unseen boundaries with the Cambion’s glowing runes now blazing like sigils made of fire. Crystals across the room let out rippling cracks, barely holding the power of her emotions, her resolve.
If love is real, then let it be
In claw and calloused hand, not plea.
No perfect shape, no polished vow—
But something here… and something now.
Her hum curled into the hush, and slowly, the waves began to recede.
Crystals throughout the lounge let out soft, musical pops. Some crumbling gently, shedding slivers of light like falling petals. Others fizzled in time with the music, their final sparks vanishing into the air.
I looked back at Valia.
And for the first time, I saw her not just as companion or protector—but as someone I didn’t want to lose. Her expression bore the weight of unspoken words—concern, hope, longing… and something unsteady.
I wanted to say something. Anything. But words felt small, they felt too fragile.
So I reached out, slow and deliberate, my hand brushing her cheek with admiration. Her fur was soft beneath my fingers, warm with life, and my hand found its way to the back of her neck.
And I kissed her.
Not a breathless stumble or heat-of-the-moment press…
But a soul-deep vow.
From the farthest corners of my fear, through the tangled brambles of doubt, to the clearest, rawest place in my mind, there was clarity.
This kiss wasn’t just wanted.
It was needed.
I held her like this was the only moment we’d ever get.
And in that heartbeat, it was. When we parted, the lights in the lounge had returned. Soft, golden, warm. But not over us. Our little slice of shadow remained untouched.
The Songstress now sat at the edge of our table, her Cambion companion beside her, his hand in hers. Her expression was full, radiant with emotion, a single tear trailing down her cheek. She looked at us, not as patrons, but as people. As kindred.
Behind her, the water still shifted—signaling the song had one last note left to give. She leaned in, voice a whisper meant only for us.
I’ll never know what you have grown…
But sing it still—though not my own.
The wave finally settled. What remained was silence… Not empty, but full. Full of breath, of heartbeats, of something deeper.
The Songstress lifted her hand, her fingers trembling slightly. A tear—thin, iridescent—caught on her cheek. She let it fall onto the crystal that glowed gently between us, and the moment it touched, the crystal pulsed once.
Light shimmered inside it like a prism catching the last rays of a setting sun. Not from her, but from us. Our bond, our feelings. A memory etched in color and sound and feeling.
“It was never mine.” She spoke softly, voice frayed by emotion. “It was always yours.”
Her Cambion companion gave a slight bow, his hand still cradling hers. Together, they turned and left, vanishing not into shadow, but into the crowd of both staff and creatures who awaited them. Two stars returning to the sky, their song finished. Yet none of their voices, nor eyes, reached us. We were left in the hush after a storm. No longer swept by it, but still damp from the rain.
Valia shifted beside me. Her fingers rose, suspended in the uncertain space between us. She didn’t look at me. Not out of guilt. But caution. Fear wrapped in restraint, like one wrong move might cause the thread between us to snap. She stopped halfway, caught between instinct and control. Between the craving to touch and the dread of being rejected for it. So I reached first. My hand closed over hers, slow and sure. Fingers curling around hers—warm, grounding, real.
“You don’t have to hold back.” I said, voice scraped raw but steady. “Not with me. Not anymore.”
Her gaze met mine then, steady and searching. There was something fierce in it—something that wanted to believe. Her eyes widened just enough to shimmer, catching the soft glow of the club’s fading lights.
Relief swept through her like a ripple through her fur.
“I’m human.” I added, a half-laugh caught in my throat. “Yeah, I’ll break. I’ll bruise, I’ll bleed. But for you…” I squeezed her hand tighter, anchoring the words between us. “I’ll be stone. I’ll be a mountain. Hell—” I let the corner of my mouth lift. “I’ll be a damned bone if you need something to sink your teeth into.”
That got her attention.
Her claws pressed a little deeper—not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. Testing. Not my words, but the truth behind them. Not to draw blood, but to draw certainty.
Was this hubris? Or something unshakable?
She leaned in, close enough for her breath to trace the edge of my jaw—slow, heated, deliberately slow. It wasn’t just sultry. It was predatory, possessive. And somehow still soft. A shiver traced the length of my spine.
“Good.” She purred, her grip tightening, heat blooming from her palm. “Because I’ve wanted to bite you since Zylas dumped your sorry ass off. And now, you’re finally letting me.”
Her grin curled like a fang beneath velvet.
And this time, when she reached for me...
There wasn’t a flicker of doubt. No flinch. No pause.
Only fire.
I’ve sung for storms and silent seas,
For fleeting hands and midnight dreams,
But none have lingered—none have stayed,
All hearts, like tides, must slip away…
Yet here you sit—so close, so near,
A man of scars, a wolf of fear,
And in your gaze, a tether forms—
A binding not of spell… but warmth.
Does she bite where others scarred?
Do you hold her when you’re marred?
Do your monsters sleep beside—
Or guard the pain you cannot hide?
If love is real, then let it be
In claw and calloused hand, not plea.
No perfect shape, no polished vow—
But something here… and something now.
I’ll never know what you have grown…
But sing it still—though not my own.
will 100% not be available during the Write-a-Thon for some rather obvious reasons, and unsure of RR's ToS involving the way Valia's
Exhausting... Mentally, emotionally... Wearing all the characters hats to get their perspective correct... I honestly feel like I need a breather before I continue. But, I always feel my best chapters do that to me. So, thanks to all you who continue to read.