CH 7

As the last rounds of drinks were passed, a strange heaviness settled over Ivelle. Her vision blurred as though she were peering through a foggy window. She blinked, trying to clear it, but the sensation deepened, wrapping around her like a weighted blanket. Her fingers curled against the bar’s edge, unease clawing up her spine.

'What’s happening to me?' she thought, panic flickering in her chest. She’d handled far more exhausting events than this without feeling like this. Her instincts told her something was wrong, deeply wrong.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling the heat rise within her, her heart thudding in alarm as her mind slowly pieced together the situation.

'Someone has drugged me.'

She pushed herself up from the stool, only to stumble as her legs wobbled beneath her. She managed to walk towards the hallway, after noticing that her friends had already left. She held the wall for support when suddenly, a warm presence appeared at her side, and she flinched.

Arden.

Her breath quickened in panic. She jerked away from him, almost tripping over her own feet.

“G-get away from me,” she stammered, the words barely coherent as they fell from her lips, thick and sluggish. She tried to steady herself, but her vision swam.

Arden frowned, reaching out. “Ivelle, relax. You’ve had too much to drink. Let me help you.”

Before she could protest further, Elena emerged beside him, her expression calm but watchful.

“Let him take you to your room,” Elena said gently, though her hand gripped Ivelle’s arm with more force than necessary.

Ivelle tried to shake her off, but her body wasn’t responding the way she wanted it to. They led her toward the elevator, her feet dragging behind her. The metallic ding of the elevator doors closing sent a wave of nausea through her, and she leaned back, pressing her head against the cold wall, hoping it would clear the growing fog.

Her breaths came faster, shallower, as the heat in her body intensified. Arden’s watchful gaze felt too close, too oppressive. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stay away, but the words lodged in her throat, trapped beneath layers of confusion and fear.

The elevator doors opened, and Arden guided her down the hallway, his arm firmly around her waist as if she couldn’t walk on her own.

“I-I can walk by myself. Don’t… don’t touch me,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We’re almost there,” Arden replied, stopping in front of a door. “I’ll get the keycard. Stay here and watch her.”

Elena nodded but looked restless as she watched Arden hurry down the hallway. She glanced at Ivelle’s figure with disdain. She was now seated on the floor, her eyes closed as she leaned against on the wall. Soon after, her phone rang and after shooting a glance at her cousin, she pulled out her phone and walked a bit further to answer the call.

Ivelle’s pulse quickened. This was her chance.

With her heart pounding, she kicked off her shoes and moved as quickly as her unsteady legs would allow, ducking into a side corridor. The world tilted violently, but she pressed on, her bare feet slipping against the cool floor. She reached for the nearest door to prevent herself from falling, but to her surprise, it swung open.

She stumbled inside, her legs finally giving way, but before she could hit the floor, strong arms caught her. For a moment, the room seemed to stand still. The dim light cast long shadows, but she recognized the scent of the cologne—one that had once been so familiar. The same one she had perceived earlier that day.

Her heart pounded harder, but her mind felt muddled, the fog clouding her thoughts.

“Ivelle?” His voice was a soft, hoarse whisper, filled with disbelief.

She looked up slowly, her vision still unfocused, but there was no mistaking the concern in his eyes. Damian’s hands trembled slightly as he held her, his breath uneven.

"So it was really you after all,”she managed to say, her voice a fragile whisper.

Damian’s eyes widened, and for a moment, his grip on her tightened. His jaw clenched as though he was struggling to comprehend the situation, or perhaps, like her, battling the same thick fog clouding his thoughts.

"Ivelle," he breathed, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "I thought I’d never see you again."

His words were laden with an emotion that tugged at something deep within her. He pulled her closer, and despite the confusion, the warmth of his body offered a strange comfort, stirring memories she had long buried.

Her heart screamed in recognition, but her mind struggled to keep pace. The drug dulled her thoughts, blurring the line between reality and whatever dream-like state she was trapped in. She should’ve pulled away, questioned him, but all she could feel was the heat of his arms around her, like a lifeline.

For a brief moment, his hand trembled as it touched her cheek. His gaze flickered, the confusion in his eyes mirroring her own. His touch, while gentle, felt uncertain, as if he was afraid that it was all a dream.

“Ivelle…,” he whispered again, his voice breaking slightly.

She wanted to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing his before she even realized what she was doing. The kiss was slow, tentative, almost like neither of them were sure it was happening.

But as the warmth spread through her, the sense of wrongness crept in, like a distant alarm she couldn’t quite hear. Still, the fire in her body was too intense to ignore. Her hands clutched the collar of his shirt, her breath hitching.

She whispered, almost pleading, “I need you to help me.”

He blinked, confusion clear in his eyes. “Help? What has happened to you?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she pressed closer, “Help me,” she murmured, her voice shaky. “I can’t… make it stop.”

"You're not in the right state of mind. Come, sit down," he said, gently guiding her into a seat.

He moved away to pour a glass of water, but as she remained on the sofa, her mind clouded. Another wave of heat rolled over her, more intense than before, making her tremble. Her skin felt hypersensitive, every nerve alive and pulsing, racing with something she couldn’t quite control.

Unable to bear the waves of heat coursing through her, Ivelle stood up, stumbling towards Damian’s figure. She hugged him from behind, clinging to him as though he were her only hope.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with desperation. He turned to face her, and his eyes met hers, the unspoken need in them growing clearer, more insistent. She leaned closer, her fingers reaching up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw as though trying to anchor herself. He was steady, safe, and right now, she needed that more than anything.

“Not like this,” he said softly, catching her hand. His voice was calm but firm, a reminder of who he was. “This isn’t you. Whatever they gave you—”

“Please…” Her fingers tightened around his hand, pulling it to her cheek, letting his warmth seep into her. “I can’t— I can’t stand this feeling,” she murmured, her voice breaking as another wave surged through her. It was too much, a torment that made her heart beat frantically against her ribs, her senses overwhelmed. She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his chest, struggling for control, for clarity, but finding none.

“It’s fine,” he murmured, his hand cradling the back of her head, his thumb gently stroking her hair. “Just breathe. You’re not alone.”

But his closeness only seemed to intensify her yearning. She felt his steady heartbeat beneath her cheek, strong and reassuring, and it sent another rush of warmth through her, drowning her resistance. She tilted her face up, her lips just a breath away from his, her voice almost a plea. “Damian… help me forget this. Just… make it stop.”

She felt his hesitation, the conflict etched in his eyes. He was fighting it, too, she could tell. His jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. But when he met her gaze again, something had changed. He searched her eyes, as if making one last effort to be certain, but her plea was undeniable, her need pressing against his restraint.

Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers with a gentleness that only made the ache in her chest grow. She clung to him, the kiss soft but filled with an unspoken understanding. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her close as her fingers tangled in his shirt, gripping tightly, desperate for the connection, the calm he offered. And for the first time that night, the chaos in her mind began to quiet.

As he deepened the kiss, her body responded in waves, each one more intense than the last, washing over her like a tide she couldn’t resist. It was overwhelming, a blend of comfort and fire, and she melted against him, surrendering to the safety of his arms and the steadiness of his heartbeat.

****

Back in the hallway, Elena glanced up from her phone, her brow furrowing as she realized Ivelle was no longer there.

"Where did she go?" she muttered, spinning around just as Arden came rushing back.

"Where’s she?" he demanded, his eyes widening in panic.

"I-I don’t know. She was here a second ago," Elena stammered, pointing to the empty spot where Ivelle had been standing.

Arden’s gaze dropped to the floor, where Ivelle’s shoes lay discarded.

"Damn it," he muttered. "We need to find her. Fast."

"Agreed. Before something happens that we can’t fix."

They rushed down the hall, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridor as they searched for any sign of her.