Chapter 73: Milk & Blood II
Chapter 73: Milk & Blood II
Morning
The crowbar clattered to the ground — its echo lingering longer than it should have, as though the walls of the office weren't quite ready to swallow what had just happened.
Aria's chest hitched, breath fractured and jagged, heart racing in a rhythm that refused to slow. The stink of decay and blood clung to her skin, and something darker — the weight of what she'd done — slid beneath it like a second layer of flesh.
It had lunged at her — sudden, fast, wrong. The rotter's mouth agape, eyeless face twisted into a grotesque leer. It had been wearing what might've once passed for a security uniform, now nothing more than a tattered husk. She didn't know what it had been before. A person? A man? It didn't matter.
She had killed it. Her.
And now the silence was worse than the screams had been.
Aria stared at her hands, slick with blood, the sticky warmth already cooling. She couldn't stop the trembling. Her knees gave out, and she sank against the wall, folding in on herself like something small and fragile and very much alive — but not untouched.
Then, Selene's voice cracked through the haze.
"Aria!"
There was no softness in her tone. No panic either. It was an edge, honed and cutting, slicing clean through Aria's spiraling breath. A shadow swept into view, and then Selene was crouched beside her, one hand curling against her cheek, guiding her gaze up like she could hold Aria together with just her touch.
Selene's fingers were cold — almost unnaturally so. Not freezing, not lifeless, but like water beneath ice. The chill lanced across Aria's flushed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Not from fear. Not even from the cold.
Something else.
Selene didn't pull away.
"You did what you had to do," she said flatly.
Aria shook her head. "But I — It got past you. I didn't mean to disobey. I just — I thought I could help."
"You did." Selene's gaze never wavered. "You're alive. That's enough."
"I don't feel alive," Aria whispered. Her voice cracked at the edges. "I feel… split open."
"That's normal," Selene replied, her hand still on Aria's face. "The first kill cuts deeper than the blade. It leaves something behind."
"Or takes it away," Aria said. Her throat tightened. "I thought I'd feel strong, but I just feel hollow."
Selene finally let her go — not gently, but purposefully. She stood with the smooth grace of someone born into violence and trained in its every whisper. Without speaking, she moved to the hallway, checked the shadows.
The rotters were gone.
"We need to block the door," she said over her shoulder. "More could come."
They pushed a heavy cabinet across the frame, its scraping a scream against the tiles. Aria winced. Her fingers still shook, muscles sore, and there was dried blood beneath her nails. She tried not to look down. She tried not to breathe too deeply.
The office was dim now. The fluorescents overhead flickered half - heartedly, casting long, broken shadows. The morning sun spilled orange and rust through the shattered window, painting the world outside in fire and ruin. A distant breeze stirred the air, the kind that should have felt fresh but instead carried the iron tang of rot and ash.
Selene peeled off her shirt — no hesitation, no modesty — revealing pale skin laced with scars and muscle, her form cut from cold elegance. She pulled a clean one from her pack and tossed another to Aria without a word.
Aria caught it midair, startled. It smelled faintly of citrus.
Selene.
Too large, too soft. Aria pulled her own bloodied top off slowly, her fingers unsteady, catching on the hem. She could feel Selene's eyes on her — quiet, unreadable, intense. Heat flushed up her chest, rising to her face.
Selene didn't say anything, but Aria could feel it — the weight of her gaze, the way it lingered too long.
She slipped into Selene's shirt. It hung loosely over her body, brushing just above her thighs. A subtle shiver ran through her — not from the air, but from the cold imprint Selene's scent left on her skin. Clean, but clinical. Controlled.
Too controlled.
They settled into a corner of the office, beneath a broken shelf. Selene cleaned her knives one by one, with the same calm she'd wear while preparing tea, each stroke methodical. Her back was straight, eyes distant.
Aria curled into a blanket, half - watching her. Half - hoping she'd look back.
"Do you ever stop hearing it?" Aria asked softly. "The sound… when the metal hits bone?"
Selene paused mid - clean. "No," she said, without looking. "But it becomes part of you. Like your shadow."
Aria hugged her knees to her chest.
There was a silence after that — thicker than before. Not empty. Not peaceful. Like something alive and moving between them.
Then Aria said it, barely above a whisper: "Stay close this morning?"
Selene looked up. Her eyes weren't warm. They were sharp and pale like frost, but still — something shifted behind them.
"Always," she said.
She moved beside her — just enough for Aria to feel the edge of her body, not touching, but present. Selene didn't radiate heat. She drew it in. Even sitting still, she was an absence, a chill that made Aria's body tighten in response, curling subtly toward her.
A faint tremor ran down Aria's spine. She told herself it was from exhaustion. Or adrenaline. Or leftover fear.
But it wasn't.
It was her.
Selene didn't move closer. But her presence filled the space like smoke. Aria could feel every point of contact that didn't happen — the closeness of Selene's thigh, the slow lift of her breath, the way her fingers brushed against her own skin when she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
And that chill.
Not freezing. Not cruel. Just… piercing. Aria's skin reacted involuntarily — nipples hardening beneath the borrowed shirt, stomach tightening, a foreign ache curling low in her core.
She shifted uncomfortably.
Selene turned slightly toward her, brushing a knuckle down Aria's bare arm.
"You're cold," she murmured.
"I — I'm fine." Aria's voice betrayed her. Her flush gave her away.
"Are you?" Selene asked, too calmly.
There was something in her tone — something teasing, something dangerous. It wasn't a question. It was a test.
Aria looked away, face burning.
"Your body doesn't know what it wants yet," Selene continued, leaning closer now, her voice like crushed velvet. "But it will."
Aria's thighs pressed together. She didn't understand the feeling coiling between them, didn't want to give it a name. But Selene did. Selene knew. Knew the frustration building beneath her skin, the need without a source, the fluttering discomfort that wasn't fear anymore.
She wasn't afraid.
She was…
Hungry.
And Selene could feel it.
Selene didn't touch her. Not fully. She just let her hand rest nearby, fingers brushing the edge of Aria's blanket.
"You're blushing," she said quietly.
Aria turned her face further away. "I'm not."
Selene's low chuckle sent another shiver across her collarbone. "Don't lie, little thing. It doesn't suit you."
"I'm tired," Aria muttered, curling in tighter.
"You're unraveling."
Selene leaned in, breath brushing Aria's ear like a promise — or a threat.
"You think I haven't noticed the way you squirm at night?"
Aria stiffened.
Selene smiled. Her lips were almost at Aria's throat now. "You press your thighs together when you think I'm asleep. You don't even realize you do it."
"Stop it," Aria whispered, cheeks blazing.
But Selene only leaned back, her body cool and cruelly composed. "I'm not doing anything, Aria. You are."
The silence that followed wasn't safe anymore.
It pulsed.
Aria didn't understand what was happening. Not fully. But she knew one thing — she wanted something she wasn't ready to ask for. And Selene was going to make her beg before she ever gave it.
Outside, the sun rose higher over the ruins, bathing the blood - slick floor in light.
Inside, Selene shifted closer — just enough to keep Aria aching.
And Aria, curled beneath the weight of borrowed fabric and unfamiliar hunger, lay restless.
Breathless.
And deeply, devastatingly alive.