06 - Strange Connection

A dull ache throbbed in Elise’s wrists as she slowly regained consciousness. The weight of exhaustion clung to her, her body sluggish and heavy. The warmth surrounding her wasn’t suffocating like before—it was soft, unfamiliar.

Her fingers twitched against silk sheets.

Her eyes fluttered open.

The dim glow of candlelight bathed the room in a golden hue. The scent of leather, smoke, and something unmistakably him lingered in the air.

She shifted slightly, feeling the cool sensation of something smooth against her wrists. Confused, she lifted her hands. Her wrists—once raw and torn from the chains—were now wrapped in soft bandages, the faint scent of ointment lingering on her skin.

Someone had tended to her wounds.

Her gaze drifted across the room, taking in the dark wood furnishings, towering bookshelves, and the faint crackling of a fireplace in the corner. The air was still, save for the soft rustle of pages turning.

Then she saw him.

Vael.

Casually seated in a chair beside her bed, one leg crossed over the other, a book resting lazily in his hands. He read in complete ease, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just slaughtered men to pull her from the jaws of death.

Elise’s breath hitched.

The moment she stirred, his golden eyes flicked toward her. A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips.

"I told you," Vael murmured, voice smooth as silk. "You’d come back to me."

Elise stiffened.

That arrogant bastard.

She wanted to snap at him, to throw back some sharp retort, but the words caught in her throat. Because the truth was undeniable—she was here. In his bed, in his territory, alive because of him.

A strange feeling coiled in her chest, something unfamiliar.

He had saved her.

For a moment, the tension between them was thick—silent, charged.

Elise forced herself to sit up, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to pull her back down. She exhaled sharply, gathering what little strength she had left.

She met his gaze, refusing to look away.

"Tell me the price," she said, voice steadier than she felt. "I know you don't do anything for free."

Vael closed his book with a soft thud and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The smirk deepened.

"My, my," he drawled, amusement lacing his voice. "No ‘thank you for saving my life, Vael’? No tears of gratitude?"

Elise scoffed. "As if I'd ever waste my tears on you."

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Ah, there she is. I was beginning to worry they knocked the fire out of you."

Elise rolled her eyes and pushed the covers off her lap, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She barely moved an inch before Vael reached out, grasping her wrist in a firm but careful grip.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked lazily.

"Anywhere that isn’t here," she shot back, attempting to tug her hand free.

His grip tightened just enough to keep her in place. "You can barely sit up without swaying like a newborn fawn, kitten. Do you really think you’re in any condition to go anywhere?"

Her jaw clenched at the nickname. "Stop calling me that."

His smirk widened. "Why? Does it make your heart race?"

"Only with rage," she snapped.

"Mm." He hummed, unconvinced. "If you say so."

Elise glared at him, then glanced down at where he still held her wrist. She inhaled sharply. "You didn’t answer my question. What do you want in return for saving me?"

Something flickered in his gaze—something unreadable. He lifted her wrist slightly, running his thumb over the bandages.

"You still have a promise to keep, don’t you?" His voice was quieter now, the teasing edge softening. "You swore you'd kill me."

Elise stilled.

That was true.

She had sworn—on everything she had left—that she would end him. That one day, she would drive a blade through his heart.

And yet…

Here he was. Keeping her heart beating.

He tilted his head slightly, watching her with amusement. "What’s wrong, kitten? You look troubled."

Elise exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. "I just don’t understand you," she admitted. "You saved me, but you’re the same man who’s ruined my life."

Vael’s smirk remained, but there was something darker behind his golden eyes. "Maybe I enjoy watching you squirm."

"Sadistic bastard," she muttered under her breath.

His laughter was soft, almost fond. "You say that like it’s news to you."

Elise shot him a glare, but instead of feeling the hatred she expected, something inside her wavered.

The tension between them stretched, thick and unspoken.

Vael leaned in just slightly, enough for her to catch the scent of leather and steel on him. "Tell me," he murmured, voice dangerously soft, "are you still afraid of me?"

Elise opened her mouth—then hesitated.

She should be. She should fear him.

But the truth was… she didn’t know anymore.

Elise hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she finally spoke.

"Do you know anything about the murder of the Dorne family?"

The question cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and deliberate.

Vael’s golden eyes flickered with something unreadable. He didn’t move, didn’t react in the way she expected—no shift in posture, no tightening of his jaw. Instead, he simply leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose as if the question was nothing more than an inconvenience.

"I don’t dirty my hands with the blood of people uninvolved in illegal affairs," he said, voice calm. "The Dornes weren’t a part of my world."

Elise narrowed her eyes, searching his face for any trace of deception. His words were too smooth, too controlled.

"And I’m just supposed to believe you?" she scoffed.

Vael smirked, tilting his head slightly. "You’re supposed to believe whatever your gut tells you. But if you need me to spell it out—I don’t waste my time on people who don’t pose a threat. I only eliminate obstacles that stand in my way."

Elise clenched her fists. Then who? If not him, then who had destroyed her family?

She wanted to press further, to demand more, but something in her hesitated.

Damn him. The worst part was that she could feel the truth in his words.

Vael must have seen the flicker of hesitation in her eyes because his smirk deepened. "You doubt me?" he mused.

"I doubt everything about you," she snapped.

His low chuckle sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine. "Good. You should."

His voice had that same lazy amusement, the tone of a man who knew exactly how to crawl under her skin.

Then, before she could react, Vael reached forward, his fingers brushing against hers.

Elise stiffened.

It was a simple touch—barely more than a whisper against her skin—but it sent a jolt through her, sharp and disorienting.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" he murmured, his voice quieter now, lacking its usual mockery.

Elise’s breath caught.

His grip wasn’t forceful, wasn’t demanding. Just there, like he was waiting.

Waiting for her to acknowledge the same strange pull that was unraveling her resolve piece by piece.

Familiarity.

It made no sense. She had spent years telling herself she despised this man who was entangled with the murder of her family, that every fiber of her being rejected him. But this—this moment, the way his hand fit against hers, the way his golden eyes darkened as they held hers—felt like something she had known before.

Something she had lost.

Something she should want to find again.

Elise clenched her jaw. No. She couldn’t afford to waver.

She pulled her hand away, the loss of warmth almost unbearable. A cold barrier formed between them as she put distance between their bodies.

"I don’t," she said, forcing her voice to be steady.

Vael’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second—so brief she almost missed it. But then it was back, sharper, as if he was amused by her response.

"Liar," he murmured.

Elise’s chest tightened, but she ignored it. "I have no reason to feel anything for you. You’re my target, Vael. I can’t afford to forget that."

His smirk widened, but his eyes… there was something else in them now. Something deeper.

"Then kill me, kitten," he taunted.

Her breath hitched.

The air between them was thick with something unspoken, something neither of them dared to name.

Elise swallowed hard, her nails digging into her palms. "Don’t tempt me."

Vael let out a quiet hum, leaning forward ever so slightly. His voice was barely above a whisper now, but it held a dangerous edge.

"Oh, but I will."

The weight of his words pressed against her skin like a phantom touch.

"Every time you look at me, I’ll make you question whether you really want to kill me… or if you just want an excuse to touch me again," he murmured, his lips quirking into a slow, knowing smirk.

Elise’s breath came a little too fast. She hated that he was right—hated that her body still remembered his warmth, that her pulse had quickened when he spoke.

She gritted her teeth, stepping back as if the distance would sever whatever this was.

"You’re delusional," she hissed.

Vael chuckled, and it was infuriatingly pleased. "And you, kitten, are in denial."

Elise didn’t respond. She couldn’t.

Because no matter how much she wanted to deny it, to push the feeling away, her fingers still tingled with the ghost of his touch.

Elise refused to let his words sink in, refused to acknowledge the way her body betrayed her with every thundering beat of her heart.

She straightened her back, forcing steel into her spine. "This—whatever this is—means nothing. You're just playing your usual games, and I won’t be another one of your pawns, Vael."

Vael chuckled, low and smooth, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Oh, kitten, I never take pawns. I only keep the ones I find entertaining."

Her jaw clenched. Infuriating bastard.

She turned away, but before she could move further, Vael was already in front of her, blocking her path with an easy, fluid grace. His movements were effortless, controlled—just like everything else about him.

Elise exhaled sharply. "Move."

"And if I don’t?" he murmured, tilting his head slightly.

"I’ll make you," she shot back, her fingers twitching toward the dagger she always kept hidden at her thigh.

Vael smirked, his gaze flickering down briefly before meeting hers again. "You could try. But tell me, Elise—if you really wanted me dead, why didn’t you take your chance while I was reading?"

Her breath caught.

He had been giving her the perfect opening earlier. His guard was down, his attention seemingly elsewhere. A quick strike, a well-placed dagger to the throat—that was all it would have taken.

And yet… she hadn’t.

Vael leaned in, his voice a whisper against her ear. "Admit it. You hesitated."

Elise shoved him back. "I don’t owe you a damn thing."

He barely stumbled, laughing softly as if her frustration only amused him.

"Maybe not," he mused, his golden eyes dark with something she couldn’t name. "But that hesitation tells me everything I need to know."

Her hands curled into fists. "You're arrogant."

"I'm right," he corrected smoothly. "And that pisses you off more than anything, doesn’t it?"

Elise hated him.

She hated the way he could read her so easily, hated that he had the audacity to be right. She should have killed him the moment she had the chance.

So why was she still standing here, trapped in this suffocating pull between them?

"You’re wasting your time," she said, voice tight. "There’s nothing between us, Vael."

He studied her for a moment, then exhaled, shaking his head with an almost pitying smile.

"Keep telling yourself that, kitten," he murmured.

Then, as if sensing she was at her limit, he finally stepped aside, giving her room to leave.

Elise didn’t waste a second.

She strode toward the door, refusing to look back.

But just as her hand touched the handle, his voice came again—smooth, teasing, laced with something deeper.

"You’ll come back to me again. You always do."

Elise stilled.

Her heart pounded, her grip tightening on the handle.

Damn him.

Damn him for being right.

Without another word, she pushed the door open and walked away—each step feeling heavier than the last.