Page 58 of Terror Tuesday

With an ecstatic, desperate moan muffled by my release, I erupt, flooding her mouth. Thick white ropes spill from her lips, trailing down her chin as she eagerly laps at the remnants, greedily savoring my flavor.

As she collapses forward, panting on all fours, I lean back against the altar, chest heaving, my own breathing ragged and satisfied.

When I look down at her—hair a wild mess, damp strands clinging to her forehead with glistening sweat, breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath the tight fabric of her shirt, thighs clenching, cheeks flaming red—I know…

She’s mine. Utterly, irrevocably mine.

Reaching down, I swipe my thumb over her swollen lips, letting her suck the tip gently as those blazing green eyes search my masked face. After adjusting myself and zipping up, I offer her my hand. She eyes it cautiously, but takes it, nonetheless.

“Let’s go,” I command, nodding toward the back exit leading into the cemetery.

“Where?”

“I’m escorting you home. It’s late, and you need rest.”

As we step out into the cool, damp night, she shivers visibly. Without hesitation, I rip off my hoodie and drop it over her head, leaving myself in just my long-sleeved T-shirt. She shakes out her long, dark hair, studying my mask with wary curiosity.

“Are you finally going to tell me why?” she asks softly.

“Why, what?”

I point out a fallen branch for her to step over, guiding her around a gravestone by placing a careful hand near her lower back.

“Why you…” Her voice trails off in frustration, replaced by a ragged sigh. “Why you saved me. Why you’ve followed me. Have written in my diary.Studiedit. How long, Vanq? What’s this all really about? Is it my family?”

My gloved fingers hover protectively, inches from touching her. And even through the fabric, I feel the energy radiating between us.

I tilt my seamless balaclava upward, taking in the quiet brilliance of the stars scattered overhead. The peaceful silence feels almost mocking, stirring memories I’ve long kept hidden.

“I remember the first time I saw you freshman year,” I confess, voice roughening with the weight of truth. “You were so determined, so full of life. You never noticed me—why would you? I was just some geeky kid in the corner at orientation, hidden behind a laptop playing a video game. But I noticed you. Especially how willingly you obeyed every authority figure giving orders.”

I draw in a slow, controlled breath, finally revealing the truth I’ve guarded so closely: “And from that moment, all I wanted was to break you.”

She stops. Halting her steps by a large oak, and I falter, allowing my fingers to graze her hip to steady us both. But by now, she seems used to me. Unafraid, but careful.

“You’ve been watching me all this time? Because…you wanted me torebel?”

“Yes. The most dangerous rebels are those forged from perfect obedience.”

Her throat tightens as she swallows. “You’re recruiting me.”

My face launches into a smile. Inadvertently, my hand raises to brush her cheek ever-so-gently. “Yes, my Monarch. I am.”

“To…” She glances anxiously around us before lowering her voice to a whisper. “To rebel against the Seven?”

Every nerve in my body screams at me to hold her, to press my body into hers. Seeing her wrapped in my clothing stirs fantasies I never dared entertain—but here she stands, reality surpassing every dream.

She faces me, lifts her fingers, and glides them along the curve of my jaw. I let her, shivering from the electricity of her touch.

But I tilt my head away…

Decisively, she crosses her arms and nods at me. “You wear it to keep people out.”

I don’t respond, only hold a breath to hear what she has to say.

“It’s not that different from me. I just…use charm and lipstick instead of anonymity.”

Releasing a slow breath, I grin with shared solidarity. “Yet they still want pieces of you.”