Chapter 13

"Yes, Syn?" Vera's voice was a velvet snare, soft and deliberate as she stepped closer, her boots clicking against the polished floor. She shrugged off her olive coat with a casual flick, letting it crumple in a heap behind her, the fabric whispering secrets as it fell. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light, a predator's focus locked on him, unwavering and unnerving.

"Wait—look at this!" Syn's voice cracked with urgency as he fumbled in his pocket, pulling out the real contract paper with a trembling hand. He thrust it toward her, the parchment fluttering slightly in his grip. "This is the original. You still can't touch me." His other hand latched onto the bathroom door's handle, twisting it franticly, but the mechanism held fast, mocking his escape with its stubborn silence.

Vera tilted her head, a smirk curling her lips as she advanced, undeterred. "No, it's not," she said, her tone dripping with certainty, a knowing edge that sent a shiver down his spine. Syn stepped back, his boots scuffing the floor, retreating until his shoulders hit the wall with a dull thud. There was nowhere left to go. Vera closed the distance, her presence looming larger with each step, her eyes alight with something wild—something scary. The way she moved, fluid yet deliberate, was a stark contrast to the chaotic pirate he remembered; this Vera was honed, dangerous, a storm contained in flesh.

"See, it is real," he insisted, shoving the paper closer to her face, his voice rising with desperation. The contract's creases and faint ink smudges were proof of its authenticity, a lifeline he clung to. But Vera's smirk didn't falter. She plucked it from his grasp with deft fingers, her touch brushing his for an instant, and before he could react, she tore it in half with a swift, brutal rip, the sound slicing through the air like a gunshot.

"No, it's not. The one Pako gave you is." she said with a smile, her voice low and final as the shredded pieces drifted to the floor. She stretched both hands forward, her fingers trembling—not with fear, but with a shivering excitement that made Syn's stomach lurch. She cupped his cheeks, her palms warm and possessive, and he froze, waiting for her to pull back, to respect the boundary he'd clung to for so long.

She didn't. Her touch was real, undeniable, a breach he hadn't braced for. Syn's breath hitched, and he shoved her back with a surge of instinct, his hands pressing against her shoulders. "You touched me," he said, half-question, half-accusation, his voice trembling as he stared at her, wide-eyed.

"Yes, Syn," she purred, stepping forward again, her hands spreading wide as if to envelop him. "And now I will touch you more—much more, many more." Her intent was clear, a promise wrapped in menace, and she lunged toward him with a grace that belied her purpose.

Syn darted aside, aiming for the bedroom door, but its automatic panel remained stubbornly shut, a cold betrayal. He pivoted, racing toward the bed instead—the farthest point from her reach—and crouched into a cautious stance, his breath ragged, eyes tracking her every move. Vera paused, her head tilting as a mocking laugh bubbled from her throat. "Oh my! No foreplay? Straight to the bed? Getting bold, are we?" Her voice dripped with amusement, a predator toying with its quarry.

She advanced again, taking her time, her steps measured and deliberate, savoring the chase. Syn bolted, tracing the walls in a desperate circuit, his boots pounding a frantic rhythm. But Vera was faster this time, her instincts sharper. She leapt, a sudden blur of purple hair and olive fabric, and caught him mid-stride, her arms wrapping around his waist. He twisted, trying to throw her off, his hands grappling for leverage, but she was cunning—stronger than he remembered. With a deft maneuver, she spun him, pinning him against the wall, his chest heaving as her weight pressed him back.

"Your hands are in the way," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear. Before he could wrench free, she yanked his arms behind him, the cold click of cuffs snapping shut around his wrists. The metal bit into his skin, a sharp reminder of his vulnerability, and she released him with a flourish, stepping back to admire her work.

"Now, come here," she said, her voice softening into a coaxing lilt. "Give me a good, gentle hug." She approached again, her arms outstretched, her smile a mix of tenderness and triumph. Syn stumbled backward, his cuffed hands useless, until the wall cornered him once more, its unyielding surface a cruel echo of his trapped state.

Vera closed the gap, her hands slipping through the gaps between his bound arms to encircle him. Her chest pressed gently against his, a soft pressure that contrasted with the steel of her intent. Her fingers squeezed his waist, tracing the contours of his back with a possessive familiarity, and her face hovered by his neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of him—sweat, metal, a faint trace of the Kingdom's sterile air—sent a shiver through her, and her breath against his skin raised goosebumps he couldn't suppress. Syn tensed, every muscle coiled, but without the forcefield's sanctuary, Vera's presence was overwhelming. She'd changed—stronger, more experienced, a woman who wielded control with terrifying ease.

"I've missed this," she whispered, her voice wavering with a raw edge that caught him off guard. "Your scent—it's still the same. So nostalgic. It's really you." She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his, and a peculiar light flickered there—something deeper than lust, something he hadn't seen before, or perhaps hadn't wanted to. Her face drew closer, and she leaned in, brushing his lips with a light peck. The next kiss lingered longer, a slow press of warmth, and the third stretched even further, her breath mingling with his.

"Stop it, Vera. What are you doing?" Syn jerked his head back, breaking the contact, his voice a strained plea as he searched her gaze for reason.

"Just what I've wanted to do for a looooong while," she replied, a smirk playing on her lips as she turned him gently, guiding him toward the bed with her arms still wrapped around him. Her steps were slow, deliberate, a dance he couldn't escape. "Let's get a bit more comfortable," she murmured, pushing him down onto the mattress. She followed, straddling him with a fluid grace, her weight pinning him as she lifted his jaw with a delicate touch. His neck arched, exposed, and she buried her nose in his nape, inhaling deeply, her exhale a long, relaxing sigh that sent a shiver down his spine.

Syn flinched, the hot gust of her breath tickling his skin, a sensation he couldn't shake. "Earlier, I was so angry I thought I'd choke you to death if I got my hands on you," she said, her voice low and husky, the heat of her words striking his neck. The immediate cooling effect was oddly pleasurable, a contrast that made his skin prickle despite his resistance. "But… all that pent-up anger…" She raised her other hand before his face, balling it into a fist, then opened it with a soft "Poof," her fingers splaying wide. "It just vanished. I don't know why. It's replaced with this intense feeling instead."

"You're just horny," Syn snapped, desperation creeping into his tone. "Let's back off, take a cold shower, think about this. Why don't you ask the others if you should really be doing this?"

Vera chuckled, a throaty sound that vibrated against his neck as she sniffed higher, toward his ear. "If you call me horny, then they're hornier than me. Are you really sure I should call them in?" Her hand on his jaw tightened slightly, holding him steady as he flinched again, her breath teasing his earlobe.

"Um… wait, no, I mean—Vera, you'll gain nothing from this. Please stop," he stammered, his voice faltering under her relentless advance.

"Ouch! What the—" Syn shouted, pain flaring as Vera's teeth sank into his neck, a sharp, deliberate bite. Her wet saliva spread, warm and slick, and she held the pressure a moment longer before releasing him, leaving a perfect love bite glistening on his skin. He winced, the sting lingering as she pulled back slightly, admiring her mark.

"Now you're hurting me," he growled, his frustration boiling over. "If you want to kill me, just do it already."

"No!" Her hand shot up, clamping over his mouth, muffling his protest. "I will never let anything happen to you, let alone kill you." Her glare was fierce, a storm of seriousness that silenced him. "Mmgmm," he mumbled against her palm, his words lost.

She softened, her hand sliding away as she leaned closer, her purple hair brushing his face like a veil. "I'll say it again—I love you. More than anything in this universe. Please accept it this time, or I'll keep doing this until you do." Her voice trembled with conviction, her eyes searching his for a crack in his resolve.

"Haven't I already rejected you?" Syn shot back, his tone hardening despite the cuffs binding him. "I don't feel anything for you. Never have, never will. You're forcing this on me now."

"Liar!" Vera yelled, her voice cracking with emotion, her hands tightening on his shoulders. "I know we have something special. I still remember every second I spent with you."

"Sorry… but it's the truth. I can't say the same with you," he said, his gaze steady, a quiet defiance in his eyes.

"Then…" Vera's face lifted from his neck, hovering inches from his, so close he could feel the heat of her breath. Her purple hair framed them, a thin curtain shutting out the world, and her eyes peered into his, intense and unyielding, as if she could see into his soul. "Let's feel it," she said passionately, cupping his cheeks with both hands as she closed the distance between their lips to kiss him.