He leaned in.
Too close. Close enough that his breath ghosted across her lips, and a shiver shot straight down her spine—one she wanted to punch herself for having.
"Y–you—" she tried, but her voice betrayed her, shaky and stupid.
Jayden didn't step back.
He dipped his head, lips near her ear, breath hot against her skin.
"I warned you," he growled, voice low and rough. "I told you what your defiance does to me. How hard it is not to take a bite when you talk like that."
He inhaled—actually inhaled her hair, slow and deep, like he was high on it. And before she could even form the word creep, his hands slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
She froze.
Every muscle locked. Heart pounding like it was trying to escape her ribs.
"My Star Performer," he murmured, voice thick and maddeningly pleased, "let me take a bite. Just a little one. You won't miss it."
His lips grazed her cheek. Not a kiss—worse. A slow drag of heat that made her whole body react before her brain could catch up.
"You smell like a flower from where I come from," he said against her skin, tone disturbingly gentle. "Crysalia. Sweetest scent there is. Makes you want to devour it the moment you get close."
He pressed her closer. She could feel his heartbeat. Or maybe it was hers. Everything was too loud.
"If you keep talking like that," he whispered, lips brushing her forehead now—too soft, too claiming— "I won't be able to stop myself from eating you alive."
Then just like that, he let go.
The absence of his body heat hit her harder than the wall behind her.
He stepped back and watched—silent, sharp-eyed—while her expression went to war with itself.
Shame.
Hatred.
Confusion.
And something else— it was subtle but evidently there.
He saw it anyway.
Jayden turned on his heel and floated toward the door like he owned the air. "My Star Performer, go to those so-called Ancient Ruins you've been ranting about. I can feel the seal loosening. Oh—do us a favor and wear a veil, will you? Half the planet already knows you after your little stunt. My sweet maid will accompany you, of course." His voice trailed as he walked through the doorway.
"I can't wait to see how you'll burn the world down this time, my superstar…"
***
Kelly stood on the sidewalk while Yulvaris hovered behind her, eyes stabbing little suns into the back of Kelly's head. Air shuttles screamed past, making the hairs on her arms stand up. Kelly scowled at the street like it'd personally offended her.
Everywhere she looked were her own stupid angles—posters, holo-ads, crudely pasted flyers. Vendors sold dolls with her face, shouting nonsense about her "exploits" while kids stared like they'd seen a miracle. A dozen people she'd never met had their hair dyed purple in homage or whatever the hell this trend was. Fifty shades of Kelly, on sale.
She should've expected the Draconians to riot, to call for blood, to at least demand apologies. She'd killed their people; she'd wrecked their home turf. Logically, they should be furious.
Instead, they made merch.
She shook her head and turned to Yulvaris. Irritation bubbled up in her chest; she tamped it down—barely—and told herself she had to talk to her protector. Better to reach some middle ground. Yulvaris would be forced to protect her if things went sideways, yes, but Kelly would rather it be done willingly than with the look of someone who'd swallowed something bitter.
"This can't keep happening," Kelly said, arms folded, staring at the Titan like she was the one being unreasonable. "People are going to start thinking I'm the villain if my own protector keeps looking like she's two seconds away from snapping my neck. That glare has been glued to my back for—what—five minutes now? It's getting childish."
Yulvaris' lips curled, not into a smile, but something sharp and wrong. Her golden eyes burned like twin suns.
"You should be wary, human. The fact that you're still alive irritates me. Killing you would take less effort than blinking."
Kelly tilted her head, veil hiding half her face, hands tucked casually behind her. "Yeah, well, I don't care about your issues. I'm here to make a deal."
That got the Titan's attention. The fire in her eyes dimmed into curiosity. "I'm listening."
"I'll give you… freedom," Kelly said. "Not metaphorically— but still freedom. You get to go where you want, do what you want. The catch is simple: you stay close enough to reach me the second I need you."
Yulvaris went silent. Her eyes sharpened again, studying Kelly like a puzzle.
"Human, aren't you afraid I'll use that freedom to find my Master? Or my clan? To come for me?"
Kelly scoffed. "That's Jayden's problem, not mine. And you're not stupid — calling them here is just inviting them to die. You know that." She paused, raising a brow. "Plus, whatever bond Jayden slapped on you? I doubt it'll let you betray him without frying your soul."
That earned her a dark, amused look.
"You are not wrong," Yulvaris said slowly. "I couldn't betray him even if I wished to. But you are wrong about one thing."
Her voice dropped, quieter, heavier.
"If I ever lead anyone anywhere, it won't be to him." She paused — not out of respect, but because she couldn't decide what to call Jayden. "I'll lead them to you. His perfect weakness. The one thing he clearly values. The one person I might hate more than I hate him."
"I accept your bargain, human," Yulvaris said, voice flat. "But know this: I only act when your enemy is far above you in power. If someone of your generation kills you, I won't blink. Frankly, your death in that case is something I'd welcome."
"Fair enough," Kelly said, turning away from the Titan with a crooked smile. "Not that I'm proud or anything, but I am pretty strong. Getting killed by someone my age? That'd take work."
She walked to a pole on the sidewalk — the kind people used to summon shuttles — blinking orange and blue, a switch mounted on its surface. Shuttles screamed by overhead, tugging at her clothes.
"How does this thing work?" she asked, frowning at the switch.
Kelly flushed a little at the internal lecture from the system. "Hey, I was getting to that," she muttered silently.
She flipped the switch. The pole lit a bright orange. An air shuttle skimmed to a stop right in front of them, hovering a foot off the ground.
"Where you headed?" the driver asked — an old man who looked like he'd been doing this forever and could've retired twice.
Kelly and Yulvaris climbed inside. Kelly watched, half-amused, as Yulvaris made herself smaller to fit, still absurdly tall for a human.
"The Teleportation formation," Kelly said, offhand.
The ride was painfully boring. The shuttle was moving so fast that everything outside the window was just one long smear of colors and light. Kelly stared anyway, half-impressed, half-annoyed, and quietly wondering how many centuries it would take Earth to catch up to this level of tech.
Then she remembered the war and snorted.
Yeah. Earth was probably fifty years behind just trying to fix its own problems, forget building flying tin cans that moved like this.
They reached their stop without anything dramatic happening. Kelly paid the driver, then she and Yulvaris stepped out into the teleportation formation — a huge place buzzing with people, noise, flashing lights, and way too much energy for the hour.