The stares arising in their wake the moment they entered the colony's fences had never quite left them until they reached the Elders' tent and ducked inside. Paris tucked her twiddling fingers into closed fists as the tent's inside greeted her.

Nothing has changed the last time Paris was here. The long table still stood in the middle of the room. Not a speck of dust or clutter could be found. All the items present in the room—from a pad of paper, quills stuck into bottles of ink, and sheathed weapons resting by the Elders' feet—made sense in being there.

A single lantern with a small fire flickering inside it, accompanied and served them. Paris resisted the urge to approach and bend down to watch the flame lick the wick of a stump of wax slotted in the middle of the latern's base. It was more interesting than the apprehensive looks the Elders flashed at her and Vivian.

"I better hear good news this time, Delavel," a new Elder, one Paris had never seen before, crossed her arms with a deep frown. It made the blaze in her pond green eyes look a little darker and the red streaks on her scarlet hair look a little fiercer. If anything, even the freckles splashed across her cheeks and nose looked like blazing stars. "I can't have another one of those Lycranse rats sniffing at our affairs because of your failure."

Instead of shoving her way towards the table and getting into the Elder's face, Vivian simply ducked her head and brought her hands together. "I hope you have had a pleasant trip back, Elder Ryleward," she said. The Vivian who used to bicker with Paris about incompetent leaders and faulty systems was gone. Or rather, inhibited. Why was that? "I bring good news, this time. We have retrieved the pendant."

The Elders bristled as one as if a shiver crawled down their spines at once. "That is excellent news, indeed," Elder Balwyn interjected, resting her elbows on the table and her chin over her entwined fingers. "What are you waiting for? Hand it over. We have many uses for the Ancient One's blood. Imagine the illnesses we could cure, the injuries we could heal."

Vivian opened her mouth when Paris raised a hand, stopping her from digging her own grave. "About that, Elders, uh," Paris scratched her chin, ignoring the scathing looks Vivian was flashing her. "I have the pendant with me—I helped Vivian retrieve it, after all—but um, we have a bit of a problem if it's the blood you want."

The man with the slicked-back dark hair which Paris remembered to be Elder Marden raised an eyebrow. The hooded Elder, Langeron, raised his head, giving Paris a view of his milky brown eyes.

Paris glanced at Vivian, remembering all the times she refused to answer her questions about how in Idis's name did she survive a fatal slash. "I...drank it," Paris said, turning back to the Elders. Her fingers started twiddling each other. It was pointless to try and stop them now. "Vivian was hurt and I remembered this thing saying demonic blood has some magical properties so I..um, drank it."

Vivian's face has fallen. Her features crumpled into a mixture of horror, worry, and anger. Before she could say anything, Paris surged on. "Then, I felt like I was gonna die but I swear I was fine later on. And now," she spread her hands and, from her palm, a dark wisp of smoke curled to the sky. She had practiced that trick for a million times during their walk back. "I have magic. Demonic magic, maybe, but still magic."

Silence reigned in the tent. Not an insect dared to flap its wings. Not one person dared to breathe. Paris extinguished the smoke and called off the flush of energy she had labeled as her magic manifesting. It was still a foreign concept to her but, at least, she was sure she wouldn't go on an accidental rampage and kill everyone with this unknown and dark power.

"You're saying you have absorbed an Ancient One's power into your bloodstream?" Elder Balwyn glowered at Paris, the woman's blond hair, despite having been pinned up, rebelling against her hairline. "And you did it to save Vivian?"

Without missing a beat or even glancing at their subject of interest, Paris kept her face straight. "Yes," she answered. "And I'd do it again if need be."

A sharp intake of breath reached Paris's ears. Oh, she could only hope that's Vivian trying to keep her undergarments on her body.

"Thankfully, there's no need for you to," Elder Marden waved a hand in the air. His frown couldn't have not gotten deeper. "That pendant was the last remnant of the Ancient Ones in this world. And with it coursing in your system, we don't need the pendant anymore. You could just be the colony's champion. Help us realize our goal."

Paris wasn't liking where this was going. "What goal?" she asked. "Was it to control the demons using my blood and sending it to Lycranse to get your revenge?"

" 'Revenge' is a strong word," Langeron said, finally breaking his silence. So, he could speak. Here Paris thought he was incapable of speaking. "We'd rather call it 'seizing power'."

"We have had our lives stolen from us because of those freaks in Lycranse," Marden said. "And we have no families or friends to go back to because the kingdom has conditioned them to think we deserved to be stolen from. What else are we to lose?"

"Right now, we stand to lose this wonderful community we have built," Ryleward continued seamlessly. Had they practiced this speech beforehand? "We risk our lives obliterating demonic creatures that threaten to uproot everything we've worked hard to establish, us and those before us. With your power, with the blood of the Ancient One in you, we can end this injustice. We can rise over the people who condemned us and give them a taste of their own schemes."

Balwyn blew a breath. "That's why we sent Vivian to find out how the Council has kept the demons at bay and confined them only to the Woods," she said. "Without the pendant in Maldegrad, who knows which towns were already infested by demons now?"

A streak of acid raced down Paris's throat. She really didn't like where this was going. Had she doomed towns just by being selfish in wanting to save Vivian?

"Oh, don't sweat it," Balwyn must have gleaned the conflicting thoughts in her head through her face. "Why care for the kingdom who threw you away? Who never made you feel like you belonged? There shouldn't be any sympathy left for them."

Vivian had said the same thing. It's scary how these people had the power to make others think the same way as them. Paris, herself, didn't know what to feel about all of this. She just wanted to sleep. Her body had been knocked around the past week. Maybe when she wakes up refreshed, she'd have a clearer way of going about these issues.

"Tomorrow, meet us in Sanhaven," Marden said, distracting Paris from whatever reverie she subjected herself into. "We have a brand new task for you."

"You may go," Balwyn said.

Paris stepped forward. That couldn't be all that. "Wait—"

A hand gripped Paris's arm. "Let's go," Vivian hissed. To an eavesdropper, its tone was supposed to carry concern and meekness. But to Paris, whenever Vivian used that tone, the woman was signaling urgency, anxiety, and the need to get away from a place at the fastest time possible.

It's either Vivian was feeling the same indecision weighing in on her system like Paris or she had something she wanted to talk to Paris about.

Either way, Vivian needed her. So, even though Paris felt like this conversation wasn't over and wouldn't be until she agreed to be under the Elders' clutches, she wrapped her hands around Vivian's and bobbed her head.

"Yeah," she said. "Let's go."

With that, they exited the tent. The rest of their walk towards their own tent was muted. It seemed like the mission parties still weren't back from the last time they left. Did they encounter some problems with some areas? Also, where in hell's ass was Sanhaven? How was she supposed to answer the summons if she hasn't even heard or seen the place?

When they entered the tent, Josin still hadn't dropped by. Her things—just a locked diary and a bunch of painted portraits—sat unbothered on the small stool beside the cot Vivian had claimed. Paris dropped to her knees and was about to crawl into bed without ever changing out of her bloody, muddy, and sweaty maid uniform when a quiet voice rang behind her.

"You didn't need to do that," Vivian said.

Paris paused and whirled to the woman. "What do you mean?"

Vivian blinked, as if a speck pricked her in the eyeballs and she wanted to avoid scratching at her eyes. "Drinking the demon's blood to save me," she said. "You didn't need to do that."

Paris blew a breath. "Where is this coming from?" she set the blanket down and padded to where Vivian sat. "What are you feeling? Come on. Tell me."

The bare ground scratched under Vivian's soles as she drew her knees closer to her chest. "You know how I don't want to be indebted to anyone," she said, tracing lazy circles on her bare feet. When had she even pried the stolen boots off them? "I don't blame you for choosing to do what you did but...I feel like I'm never going to live up to that. Everything I do will pale in comparison to what you did for me and I..."

She took a sharp breath. "I don't like feeling inadequate," she said. "I don't know how to repay you, Paris."

Paris pursed her lips. Why was Vivian even feeling that way? Who said their relationship involved out-paying each other with deeds? "You don't have to live your life paying me back for what I did," she said. "You're special to me and I can't stand losing you. It's only human of me to do everything to save myself from that pain. I'm sorry if you feel like I should have let you go."

Vivian shook her head. "You could have left me there and saved yourself," she said. "Why didn't you?"

Paris felt like laughing in Vivian's face. Had she not said it or shown it a million times? Guess it's time to make it as plain as day. She locked eyes with Vivian. "Because I love you," she said. "I know I should stay by your side just as you've stayed in mine for all these years."

She reached out and tucked Vivian's hair behind her ear. "That's why," she lowered her voice to a whisper. "You don't have to be adequate to be able to love. You're free, Viv. And you don't need to repay me with a greater deed. I don't need it. I saved you because you saved me, a long, long time ago. And you keep saving me until now."

A small laugh shook her shoulders. Her hands never strayed from Vivian's face. With nothing but the dim light from the lanterns burning outside their tent, Paris failed to see Vivian's face in all its glory but she didn't need to. It was easy to memorize every curve of her body. "If anything," she said. "I'm the one repaying everything you've done for me."

When Vivian failed to speak more than a few sputters, Paris planted a kiss on her forehead and moved towards her cot. "See you tomorrow," Paris said, eyeing the folds of her blanket.

She was halfway up when a hand curled around her wrist. She looked down to find Vivian with her eyes to the floor. The light from the lanterns amplified the tinge of pink coloring her cheeks. "Don't go," came Vivian's small voice. It was something Paris hadn't heard before. "Don't you fucking go, Paris Lerring."

Paris sank back to the cot. "Okay," she said. "I won't go anywhere."

The moment she said that, a shadow moved over her. Soon, the softest of lips danced over hers, claiming every part of her. Hands roamed down her arms, her stomach, her legs. It wasn't like how the phantoms handled her. This time, the touches sent vibrations down her skin, rivaling the hidden energy in her bloodstream. No, scratch that. This was a new height. A brand new horizon. And she couldn't believe she had forgotten it.

A moan rumbled deep in her throat when Vivian's fingers snuck inside her tight bodice. With an almost feral growl, those fingers snapped the brittle stitches holding up the rest of Paris's body. With a grunt, Paris felt herself getting lowered to the cot. Vivian worked quickly, her breaths shaking her ample chest. By the time Paris's back touched the rough sheets, nothing covered her.

Then, Vivian was all over her once more. Just lips roving down her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. Through the waves of pleasure rolling over her exposed body, she was vaguely aware of fingers circling her nipples and the tongue running down her stomach and her hips.

She regained a third of her senses when a warm body pressed against hers. It occurred to her that nothing was between them anymore. And she liked how it felt. Liked it so much that she arched her back to access more of that heat. More of that intoxicating fragrance curling off Vivian.

"What are you doing, Viv?" Paris asked through the haze of her mind. Something told her they needed to get up early tomorrow. "We don't have the whole night and we should rest."

Vivian drew back. Framed by the lantern glow, she looked more like the mythic Ancient Ones than the Ancient Ones did. Her bare body was for Paris to savor every bit of. "We don't have the whole night," she said. "But we can have some of it."

Paris chuckled as Vivian lowered herself against her once more. "That won't nearly be enough," she said.

"Once I make you scream your curls off, you'll understand how it's enough," Vivian smirked against Paris's skin. Talking dirty now, were they?

Paris relaxed her limbs—a direct invitation for Vivian to do anything she wanted with her. "Do your worst," she said.

And that, Vivian did. The rest of the night was filled with Paris's breathless moans. At one point, she remembered having to cover her mouth with her fist to muffle the sounds ripping from her throat. When Vivian collapsed atop Paris once more, sweat slicked off her body, merging with Paris's. Their short gasps for breath mixed and melded.

That night, Paris was Vivian's and Vivian was Paris's. It was more perfect than perfect. And it was made the most perfect when Vivian held Paris ever so softly. Then, Vivian planted her face into Paris's hair and with the softest of whispers said, "I love you, Paris. So much."

Paris smiled up at Vivian and wrapped herself all over her, urging her to take her. All of her. Vivian had been right. Having some of the night was enough. It was more than enough.

And now, because Paris was as selfish as she was crazy about Vivian, she wished for the sun to never rise for the next day. Just so she could stay with Vivian a little bit more. Just so she would never feel so lonely. She wished for the sun to never rise at all. Just so she could feel safe and loved for the rest of her life.

That wasn't too much to ask, was it?