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Chapter 11: Velvet Rooms and Violent Thoughts - Part 3

  I stepped out of the tub, steam clinging to my skin. The water had done its job to ease the aches, but hadn’t worked miracles. I still felt like a stitched-up wreck with a heartbeat.

  Ari and Siyasha were waiting with warm towels, already in motion before I’d fully cleared the edge. No awkwardness, no hesitation, though I didn’t miss the glance Ari gave to Siyasha, or the way Siyasha tilted her head as she handed me the towel like it was a ceremonial blade.

  I dried off in silence, wrapping the towel around my waist. The room shifted again as the door opened.

  Two more attendants stepped inside. One older, with sharp cheekbones and silver streaks in her jet-black hair. She moved like she owned the place, and from the way the others straightened at her arrival, she might’ve. The girl trailing behind her was younger, maybe her daughter, with the same eyes and a quieter poise.

  Now I had four of them. Three human. One Xyrelian. All of them watching me like I was some half-wild creature they’d been tasked with civilizing.

  They weren’t wrong.

  “We’ve brought additional options,” the silver-haired woman said, lifting a sleek suit from the rack. Midnight blue, silver accents, crisp as a knife. “Just in case you didn’t like what was already here.”

  They herded me onto the dressing platform, the floor beneath me humming to life. Light traced my frame in calculated lines, scanning every dimension with the quiet judgment of a tailor’s ghost.

  The scars that had been hidden beneath first beneath the fabric and then the bath suds were laid bare now. Old wounds that didn’t heal quite right covered my torso and legs. I stood in silence, barefoot and half-naked under the glow of scanning beams, while they all took it in.

  The younger girl’s breath caught, quiet and sharp. The others followed suit, murmuring softly in Standard as their eyes traced over the scars and burn lines crisscrossing my chest.

  “Enough,” the silver-haired woman said, not raising her voice.

  The room quieted instantly.

  But it wasn’t enough to stop Siyasha from looking. The Xyrelian's skin turned to an amber glow as she stepped in close, eyes moving over my scars with a quiet, almost reverent intensity. She murmured something in her native tongue, consisting of soft clicks and melodic tones. Just before asking what she’d said, she met my gaze without hesitation.

  “Strength,” she murmured, her voice low, almost admiring. “It’s rare to see it worn so openly.”

  Her hand hovered near my collarbone, fingers tracing the air just above the deepest scar, eyes dark with something between fascination and desire.

  Ari caught the shift and glanced away, lips twitching with a smirk.

  “These marks,” she said quietly, “they suit you.” Her glow pulsed deeper, nearing ruby, as her eyes roamed over every scar like they were scripture. Reverent and maybe a little possessive.

  Even during the bath, I’d noticed the Xyrelian’s hands lingered longer than necessary. But now she was clearly making no effort to hide her fascination.

  I told them I could dress myself. None of them listened. I stood there, bare feet on the platform, watching in the mirror as they moved around me zipping, adjusting, fastening one piece at a time. Ari worked in silence, focused and professional. Siyasha lingered more, her hands brushing against my skin like she didn’t want to let go. I caught her eyes in the mirror. Sad. Like dressing me meant watching me leave.

  Once the last button was fastened and the jacket smoothed down over my shoulders, I stepped off the platform. The suit fit like it had been tailored on the bones of a better man. Midnight blue with silver insignias, sharp lines, heavier than it looked. Clean. Controlled. Nothing soft.

  Siyasha lingered, her fingers brushing the lapel one final time before she stepped back. Her expression had shifted—still composed, still professional—but softer now. Almost wistful.

  The older woman noticed. “Don’t pout, dear,” she said dryly, smoothing the jacket’s shoulder. “He’ll be staying the night… won’t you, my lord?”

  “Probably not. I’ve got business off-world as soon as this dinner ends.”

  “Oh, what a shame,” she sighed. Then with a clap of her hands, she turned to Ari and Siyasha. “Why don’t these two keep you company until then?”

  Before I could object, she was already ushering the youngest attendant out the door, leaving me with Ari and Siyasha. The latter had lost that red-tinted glow—back to cool, composed blue—but it still felt like being stuck in a room with a particularly well-dressed octopus. One that kept inching closer.

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  “I’m fine. Alone,” I said. “I’ll set an alarm to make sure I don’t miss dinner.”

  They didn’t move. Just stared at me, serene and quiet like statues made of perfume and good posture.

  “We insist, please let us help you relax.” Siyasha said, guiding me gently to the couch with all the subtlety of velvet handcuffs.

  Meanwhile, Ari walked over to a panel I hadn’t even noticed and retrieved a bottle from a hidden cooler, the crystal container glowing faintly in the low light.

  Ari poured a glass of shimmering blue liquid and handed it to me with a small, respectful bow. “For you,” she said, her voice demure. “Something to ease the mind.”

  I eyed the drink, then glanced between the two of them.

  “I feel like a girl at a frat party.”

  Siyasha tilted her head. “We do not know what that is.”

  “Exactly.”

  The liquid shimmered like blue starlight, maybe harmless, maybe laced with something that’d have me drooling on the couch.

  “Why don’t you take the first sip?” I said casually, watching Ari with steady eyes.

  Her eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. She glanced at the crystal glass and then back at me, forcing a polite smile. “It’s… not customary, sir.”

  “I don’t like drinking alone.”

  She hesitated, clearly weighing the consequences.

  Her gaze dropped to the drink, then flicked back to mine.

  “We are not permitted to sample the guests' provisions,” she said quietly. “It is strictly forbidden.”

  “I insist.” I said, starting to get irritated.

  Nothing.

  A long breath slipped out of her nose. Then, with a quiet sigh, she reached forward and took the glass from my hand and raised it to her lips taking a single sip.

  Nothing happened. Her expression stayed composed and steady, showing no hesitation.

  Either the drink was safe... or she’d been trained better than most assassins.

  She handed it back without a word. I watched her for another heartbeat, then raised it to my lips and took a small sip.

  The flavor was smooth and floral, with a sharp, electric kick that spread warmth through my chest like someone had just jumpstarted my heart. Reminded me of the kind of stuff Nyx would always stash on the ship only more refined.

  “It pleases you, sir?” Siyasha asked softly, her amber glow pulsing gently beneath her skin.

  I nodded, more at ease but still cautious. "Not half bad.”

  She allowed herself a small smile. “It is called Miralynth Spark. From the vineyards of Miralynth Province, my home. Serathi Bloom, harvested under triple-moon alignment. It was once reserved for our sacred unions… and final farewells.”

  Final farewells, eh? I smiled faintly and took another sip, pretending not to calculate how fast I could snap both their necks if this went sideways.

  If they were planning to kill me, they were going about it all wrong. Bit of a waste, really… healing me, bathing me, dressing me up like I was going to prom. Felt like too much effort just to poison me.

  Besides, this one didn’t seem like a killer.

  She was watching me too closely for that. Curious. Intent. Almost reminded me of Nyx when she thought I wasn’t looking.

  Siyasha shifted in her seat, the motion smooth and deliberate. The fabric of her dress, what little there was of it, slipped lower across her shoulders, exposing more of the soft blue skin beneath. It shimmered faintly, just like her veins.

  I could see the faint outline of her heart, beating like a hidden sun beneath her skin, sending ripples of light with every pulse.

  She caught me staring, her lips curling into a knowing smile, as if she was used to this reaction. “You like what you see, sir?”

  "Hard to ignore."

  Her smile deepened, the light in her veins quickening, as if my words alone had stirred something within her.

  “You’re kind, sir.” She poured another measure of the shimmering drink, her fingers lingering on the glass before passing it to me. “There’s… much more to see, if you’d like.”

  I reached out without thinking, a subtle, subconscious drift of psionic energy extending from me like a shadow. Before I knew it, I felt the rhythm of her heart, pulsing strong and steady under my grasp.

  Her hand flew to her chest, her eyes widening, the glow in her veins flickering as she took a sharp breath. Confusion washed over her face, just a flicker of it, as she looked around, clutching her chest for a beat too long. The glow slowly faded back into her skin, her expression smoothing into something resembling calm, though her gaze was still uncertain.

  She glanced at me, lingering, as if she felt something she couldn’t explain, but I kept my face neutral, setting my glass aside and straightening up.

  “I think I’d like some time alone before the dinner,” I said, my voice steady, dismissive.

  She hesitated, the glow in her veins pulsing with what might’ve been reluctance or even disappointment. She glanced Ari, who moved quickly to gather up the empty glasses then gently taking her by the elbow dragging her to the door. Siyasha lingered a moment longer, her gaze flicking back to me, her reluctance plain. But she followed Ari out, casting one last glance over her shoulder before the door slid shut.

  The room settled into silence, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air, mixing with the cool, sterile feel of the place.

  The room settled, the faint trace of her perfume lingering like a strange reminder of warmth in the sterile air. I sat there, unmoving, replaying that brief, subconscious moment in my mind.

  Why did I do that?

  Why the hell did I reach out and… hold her heart?

  A flicker of a memory that I’d done it before, or maybe it was more like an urge to crush it right there, to feel the life in my hand and snuff it out. Extinguish the source of the light.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Back in the game, it was the hidden class. Shiny, hyped, the kind people hunted for years without ever unlocking. Psionic, they called it. Mind-based. Soul-based. But maybe the devs knew something we didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t just cool anime bullshit. Maybe it came from somewhere deeper.

  Darker.

  Because lately, the thoughts have been slipping in more often. The dreams. The urges. Like there’s something alive inside me that isn’t me. Something waiting for its moment to crawl out.

  Or maybe I’m just losing it.

  I let out a breath and flexed my fingers, trying to shake it off. I didn’t crush her heart. That’s what mattered. I didn’t do it.

  Either way, I had to focus. Mission time.

  I need to get to Astra. Fast.

  Save her.

  Get the Core.

  Maybe then the urges will stop. Maybe then I’ll finally sleep without dreaming about killing everything I touch.

  I stood at the window, watching New Vothar churn below. Layered lights, hoverlanes, and the occasional glow of a spacecraft’s engines flashing like distant thunder.

  Somewhere along the way, I blinked.

  When I looked again, the moons had shifted, and the door behind me was already open.

  “Agent Valor,” Siyasha said, her voice soft. “The dining hall is prepared. Please… follow me.”

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