Chapter 2: Bloody Nose

“You… again.”

For a fleeting second, Mauve felt relief. Someone had saved her from the icy river. Someone had pulled her back from death.

But when her vision cleared, the relief evaporated. It was him. The man from earlier.

Her safety was no longer guaranteed.

“Yes, it’s me,” he said gently, his British accent crisp. “And like I told you before, I mean no harm.”

He stepped back, giving her space, flashing that same disarming smile. Mauve didn’t buy it for a second.

A second figure appeared at his side—a girl. Her presence was sharp, almost cutting, but her green eyes glowed with genuine concern.

“You should take your jacket off,” the girl said softly, holding out her own coat. “Have mine instead.”

Mauve’s eyes flicked to her, wary. The girl looked her age, maybe a bit older. Short wolf-cut hair, lips tinted a dark brown, a golden hoop gleaming against her nose. She had the kind of aura that warned don’t mess with me, yet there was something protective in the way she looked at Mauve.

“Who are you?” Mauve blurted, voice trembling.

“I’m Sephie,” the girl replied. “And just like him—I mean no harm.”

Of course you don’t, Mauve thought bitterly. Same outfit. Same accent. Same hidden agenda.

“I’m fine. I don’t need it.” Mauve pushed the coat away, then turned back to the man. “Did you… save me?”

“Yes,” he said simply, his wet hair dripping onto the snow as he wiped his face. His smile was kind. Too kind.

“Thank you,” Mauve muttered. It was the least she could say, even if unease still knotted in her gut.

“Of course. Anything for you, Mauve.” He extended his hand to help her up. She hesitated, but her legs were too shaky to argue. His grip was firm, steadying, almost reassuring. Almost.

The moment she stood, she tried to create distance. “I’m freezing. I should… go back to school. Dry off.”

“You can come with us instead,” he urged. “We have a place nearby. Sephie can make you tea, right?”

Sephie nodded immediately.

Mauve shook her head. “No, really. I still have class.”

“Please, Mauve. We insist.” His tone deepened, layered with authority this time.

She bristled. “I said no. Thank you for saving me, but I need to leave.”

She turned away—only for his hand to close around her arm again.

“You need to come with us, Mauve.”

His grip wasn’t harsh, but the weight of it told her this wasn’t optional.

“No!” she shouted, yanking against him.

“Is it because of what happened earlier?” His brows furrowed, confusion breaking through his composure.

She didn’t answer. She only fought harder, pushing against him, though he didn’t budge. He was taller. Stronger. Too strong.

“Tell me,” he pressed. “All we want is what’s best for you.”

“Oh really?” Mauve spat. “I don’t even know you!”

His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers. “My name is Nicholas Clarke. Your Eliot. I know it sounds strange, but you have to trust us, Mauve.”

Eliot. The word made no sense. None of this did.

Before she could argue again, Sephie’s voice cut in. “We need to go, Eliot.”

Nicholas gave her a sharp nod—and began to pull Mauve away from the direction of her school.

“Let me go!” Mauve’s voice cracked with fury, her body thrashing. She pulled, shoved, twisted, but his grip never wavered.

Finally, she screamed, “No!”

The ground itself seemed to answer.

A violent force burst from her body, slamming Nicholas off his feet and hurling him several yards across the snow.

Mauve staggered, horror flooding her veins. Her head throbbed viciously, blood dripping warm and wet from her nose. The world tilted, shadows swallowing her vision.

Before she collapsed, a pair of arms caught her, and Sephie’s voice cried her name.

---

When Mauve woke again, her skull felt like it was splitting. The air smelled of hay, wood, and dust. Her vision was blurry, but voices reached her through the fog.

“We have no choice. We have to tell her.”

“She won’t believe us.”

Her sight cleared enough to see them—Nicholas and Sephie, arguing just feet away. Around her stretched the inside of a barn: old beams, tools, a battered table with mismatched cups.

She tried to move. Rope bit into her wrists.

The creak of the chair drew their attention. Nicholas’s eyes softened. “Are you feeling better?”

Mauve glared. She didn’t answer.

Sephie approached instead, holding a steaming cup. She crouched to Mauve’s level, her voice gentler than before. “It’s just tea. For the nausea. Please.”

Mauve narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to poison me.”

Sephie blinked, then actually laughed, rolling her eyes. “If we wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t have dragged you out of a river. Watch.”

She took a sip herself, then pushed the cup closer. Reluctantly, Mauve sipped. Warmth slid down her throat, easing the pounding in her skull. To her surprise, it tasted… good.

“Better?” Sephie asked.

Mauve looked away. “… A little.”

Nicholas sat across from her now, his posture calm but commanding. “Mauve, listen to me. This isn’t about money. You’re not in danger. Not from us.”

“Then what is it? Why tie me up? My family doesn’t have anything you’d want.”

Nicholas leaned forward, his gaze locking hers. “Mauve Harrison. You are the next ruler of Elite, the parallel dimension to Earth. I, Nicholas Clarke, will serve as your Eliot. Sephie Scott is your Astral. Our duty is to escort you to Elite, where you will claim your throne.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

And then Mauve laughed. Sharp, disbelieving, almost hysterical. “That’s the best excuse you could come up with? Ruler of a parallel world? Do you think I’m twelve?”

Nicholas didn’t flinch. “It’s the truth.”

“It’s a lie!” she snapped. “Just let me go!”

But Nicholas only sighed, frustration flickering in his expression.

Then his eyes widened. Blood trickled from Mauve’s nose again. Her body trembled, power flaring without her meaning to. Too much. Too dangerous.

“Mauve—stop!” Nicholas lunged forward, catching her before she collapsed. Sephie rushed with a cloth, wiping the blood from her pale face.

As Mauve’s body went limp, Nicholas lifted her carefully into his arms.

Sephie’s voice trembled for the first time. “What do we do now?”

Nicholas looked down at Mauve, her fragile frame trembling even in unconsciousness. His voice was quiet, but certain.

“Her second ability is awakening. We wait. And when the time comes… we take her home.”