Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – The Reunion (3)

Erin’s question left Ten staring at her blankly, his eyes a mixture of confusion and disbelief, as though her words themselves defied understanding. “…If you ask me what kind of man I am, I’d feel slighted,” he said after a long pause, the soft cadence of his voice failing to mask the underlying tension.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Erin’s voice, though calm, carried a razor-sharp edge, and the dagger in her hand seemed to hum with the threat it posed. The blade’s tip grazed Ten’s throat, slicing the skin enough for blood to bead and run down the curve of his neck. A part of him found the absurdity of the situation almost laughable.

He had always known he possessed instincts that surpassed ordinary humans, yet to feel the cold bite of steel against his flesh while facing Erin’s unwavering gaze produced a new, more visceral sensation. “…I suppose the Commander can handle herself,” he said with a dry chuckle. “Don’t worry—he isn’t going to die.”

But Erin did not pause to answer. The dagger pressed deeper, the blade biting into his flesh. Blood ran freely now, yet Ten remained motionless, studying her as though she were a fascinating anomaly rather than a threat.

Erin furrowed her brows, readying herself for another strike, when a sudden, unexpected presence shifted the air. A figure moved over her, and in the blink of an eye, the blood dripping onto her face seemed to vanish, absorbed by some unseen force. Her eyes widened, but before she could react, the wound had healed, leaving her dagger biting only air.

“I told you,” Ten said softly, his brown curls shimmering and morphing into silver, “you won’t kill me with something so simple.” The freckles across his nose vanished as his face assumed a gentler, almost angelic expression. Only his piercing green eyes remained unchanged, gleaming with unyielding awareness.

Ten—no, Gabriel—looked down at her with a trace of wistfulness, and Erin froze, her instincts screaming. The magic of his transformation was undeniable, and yet something deep within her recognized the man beneath the disguise. Though she had never seen him in this form before, the truth resonated unmistakably in her mind.

How could this be possible? The realization made her pulse quicken, her hands clench involuntarily, and a growl, low and reluctant, rumbled from her chest.

“You seem quite surprised,” Gabriel said, his voice smooth, almost soothing, as he reached out, brushing a streak of his own blood from her cheek with gentle fingers.

“Did you care much for Ten?” he asked, teasing, almost intimate.

“Shut your mouth!” Erin spat, fury flaring, but no strike came. She could do nothing, despite the storm of anger and hatred coursing through her veins.

Gabriel observed her hands, held firmly in his own, his magic subtly restraining her movements. Then, with deliberate tenderness, he pressed the thumb he had used to wipe his blood against her lips. He held it there, silencing her, the sweetness of his blood filling her mouth, a flavor both familiar and alien.

“You don’t need to speak,” he murmured. “I know why you’re angry—you cared deeply, didn’t you?”

Jealousy, the words implied, yet there was no malice in his tone, only an unsettling amusement. “My little one,” he added softly.

The title hit Erin like a physical blow, her expression hardening into stone. Her entire body trembled, yet her eyes remained locked on him. That endearment—the one her grandmother had once used—had been a symbol of love and warmth in her childhood, a phrase so gentle it had always carried the promise of care.

The one who called me that, my dearest little one… she is dead. And this—this man—he destroyed that memory, turning it into something grotesque.

Gabriel’s eyes gleamed as he leaned closer. “Do you remember the water I gave you that day?”

Erin’s mind flashed back to that sweet, strangely satisfying water, her face twisting in disgust and disbelief as she realized the truth. The liquid she had thought benign was infused with his blood, a first step in the long game he had been playing. From the start, she had been toyed with, her body and senses manipulated, her every reaction observed.

Her glare intensified, but Gabriel’s smile remained serene, almost affectionate, as he gently rolled his thumb against her tongue, reminding her of the flavor she had tasted before.

“You were angry because you cared so much,” he whispered, almost tenderly. “It is why you react as you do.”

He spoke the word again, “My little one,” and her rage tightened its grip. She wrenched her head, forcing his hand from her mouth. “Who do you think you are, calling me that?”

Gabriel’s expression softened, a faint crease in his brow, as though he were pained by her anger. “I thought it would make you happy,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Was I wrong?”

Erin stared at him, breath catching between fury and incredulity. Then, despite herself, a bitter laugh slipped out, growing louder until it became uncontrollable. Her body shook with laughter, though her green eyes were filled with murder, and her twisted smile betrayed the tension that gripped her.

“I—your use of that name is revolting,” she spat through her mirth.

Gabriel simply returned her gaze, his own smile tinged with amusement. The smirk, so faint yet so condescending, ignited her fury anew. “Don’t look at me like that!” she shouted, gnashing her teeth, but he pressed his hand firmly over her mouth, silencing her instantly.

Within the emptiness of his eyes, she detected neither compassion nor warmth—only the complex blend of resentment and provocation, emotions she believed were exclusively hers to feel. And yet here he was, claiming them for himself. Her entire being recoiled at the notion.

Gabriel leaned closer to her ear, his breath a cool caress laced with subtle menace. “Sadly, the feelings you have… I feel them too.”

Erin could not speak; his grip was unyielding. The very force that restrained her was nearly suffocating, yet his words were soft, deceptively gentle, carrying a hidden, palpable threat.

“I feel the same way you do,” he whispered again, brushing his lips against the nape of her neck. Each word sent a shiver through her, a blend of revulsion and involuntary awareness of his power over her. He could taste her pulse beneath his lips, feel her tension like a live wire.

“If you resist me, it only reminds me that I too am restraining myself,” he said, the motion of his lips deliberate, calculated. A thrill ran through him at her rapid heartbeat beneath his mouth. The sweetness of her blood teased him, just enough to provoke desire without losing control entirely.

Erin’s mind screamed for release, for him to let go, yet her body remained bound by his magic and hands. Gabriel’s palm pressed against her face, guiding and dominating her movements, inching downward over the smooth expanse of her neck and chest, feeling every contour through the fabric of her uniform.

Her pulse quickened, her breaths shallow, alternating between the tension of fear and the fury of impotent rage. Gabriel chuckled softly at her reactions, delighting in each twitch and shiver, each involuntary tremor.

“Do you wish to kill me?” he asked quietly, nuzzling closer.

“Shut your mouth!” she hissed, though she knew, as he did, that she could not. She had been ensnared too thoroughly, her magic blunted by the small but potent rituals he had enacted, her power neutralized by the blood-infused water and the touch of his presence.

His hand continued its deliberate exploration over her chest, teasing the edges of her uniform, pressing closer to what lay beneath. Desire and dominance intertwined, yet he held back, knowing that the time was not yet ripe, that anticipation was a tool to savor.

Gabriel’s voice, soft and instructive, cut through the tension. “Maintain your composure. Anger fuels you, yes, but uncontrolled fury destroys the vessel it inhabits.”

With that, he pressed his lips to the sensitive nape of her neck, drawing the faintest trace of blood, the subtle sweetness exploding across his tongue. Erin shivered violently, caught between disgust and the sharp sting of humiliation, unable to respond as he whispered against her skin.

“Then we shall meet again,” he murmured, and just like that, Gabriel vanished, leaving Erin trembling in the stillness of the room, the air heavy with the lingering presence of him, and the faint metallic tang of inevitability.

The encounter left her shaken to the core, the blend of fear, anger, and reluctant fascination etching itself into her memory. Every nerve screamed, every thought spun in chaotic loops, yet she could not erase the man who had so thoroughly toyed with her, leaving her blood and spirit equally marked.

He had come for a game, and she had been played. And in that knowledge, Erin felt a cold certainty: the war between them had only just begun.