Eliane awoke with a start, her breath shallow and her heart pounding. The remnants of the dream clung to her, elusive yet suffocating. In her dream, Seraphine had been there, standing at the edge of a cliff, her hand outstretched. Eliane had reached for it, despite the danger. And just before their fingers touched, a terrible, familiar feeling of falling had gripped her chest.
It had felt so real, so visceral. A warning, perhaps, or simply the manifestation of her deepest fears. She couldn't tell. But she couldn't ignore it anymore. Not when the pull was becoming harder to resist.
The moonlight was still filtering through the cracks in the stone, casting long shadows across the cavernous room. Eliane had grown accustomed to the darkness, but tonight, it felt more oppressive than ever, as if it were a living thing, watching, waiting.
The silence was broken by the faint sound of footsteps echoing in the hall outside her room. They were slow, deliberate—measured. Eliane's pulse quickened, and instinctively, her hand went to the dagger at her side. She knew who it was before they even entered.
The door creaked open, and there she was. Seraphine.
Her presence filled the room like smoke—impossible to avoid, suffocating. Eliane stood still, her gaze locked on the woman, every nerve in her body taut with uncertainty. The darkness between them seemed to stretch, impossible to bridge.
"You look troubled," Seraphine said softly, her voice like silk, smooth and dangerous. She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her with an almost casual motion.
"I'm fine," Eliane replied sharply, her grip on the dagger tightening. "What do you want?"
Seraphine smiled, a curve of lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's not about what I want," she said, her voice now a whisper, close enough to make Eliane's skin crawl. "It's about what you want."
Eliane's chest tightened at the implication. "I don't want anything from you."
"Oh, but you do," Seraphine said, her tone low, almost seductive. "You've wanted me from the moment we met, haven't you? You can feel it, can't you? That pull. It's not something you can fight forever."
Eliane swallowed hard, her thoughts swirling. "I don't—"
"Yes, you do," Seraphine interrupted, stepping closer. "I see it in your eyes, Eliane. The way you look at me when you think I don't notice. You can deny it, but you know the truth."
The space between them felt like it was closing in, every word from Seraphine like a blade cutting deeper into her resolve. Eliane fought to maintain control, to keep her emotions at bay. But Seraphine's gaze was magnetic, pulling her in, unraveling her defenses piece by piece.
"I don't need you," Eliane said, her voice shaky, though she tried to sound confident. The words felt hollow, even to her.
Seraphine's smile widened, cruel and knowing. "You've never needed anyone, have you? But that doesn't stop you from wanting me."
There it was again, that word. Wanting. The way Seraphine said it—like it was something inevitable, something Eliane couldn't escape. It made her stomach twist, made her feel both repulsed and drawn to her all at once.
"Stay away from me," Eliane whispered, more to herself than to Seraphine.
Seraphine reached out, her fingers brushing Eliane's cheek with startling tenderness. Eliane froze, the warmth of the touch sending a jolt through her system. She wanted to pull away, wanted to slap the woman's hand away, but her body betrayed her, betraying her own fears and desires.
"You don't really want that, do you?" Seraphine murmured, her breath warm against Eliane's ear. "You want me to stay. You want me to make you feel... alive."
Eliane trembled, biting down on the urge to lash out. "You're wrong," she said, though the words felt weak in the face of Seraphine's relentless presence.
"No, I'm not," Seraphine whispered back, her lips brushing against Eliane's ear. "You want this... just as much as I do."
Eliane's chest tightened, her body responding to the proximity, the closeness, the heat of Seraphine's presence. Every instinct screamed at her to step back, to run, but her feet felt rooted to the ground, as though Seraphine's words were chains that held her in place.
"I hate you," Eliane spat, the words feeling empty as soon as they left her lips.
Seraphine chuckled softly, her fingers now tracing the edge of Eliane's jaw, sending a shiver down her spine. "You say that now," she said, her voice dripping with dark amusement. "But we both know that's not true. Hate is just love twisted in a different form."
Eliane's breath caught in her throat as she pulled away, stumbling backward. She couldn't do this. She couldn't let herself fall into whatever trap Seraphine was weaving.
But as she turned to leave, Seraphine's voice followed her, echoing in the cold room.
"You'll come back to me. I'll make sure of it."
Eliane's pulse raced, her mind reeling from the encounter. She had to get away. She had to escape—before Seraphine's words consumed her completely.
But even as she fled, a small part of her whispered the truth she couldn't deny:
She was already trapped.
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End of chapter 6
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