Chapter 183: The Edge of Wildness
The room was dim, lit only by the flickering orange glow of a dying lamp in the hallway. The kidnappers had stepped away —probably to argue, drink, or check the perimeter — and for the first time in hours, Eva and Aristea were alone.
Eva crouched by the corner of the room, her fingers moving swiftly across a pile of discarded clothes in an old duffel bag. "There's got to be something in here."
Aristea knelt beside her, already tugging at a flannel shirt that smelled faintly of gasoline and sweat. "These are huge," she muttered, holding up a pair of cargo pants. "You might swim in them."
Eva glanced over. "I'll manage. Baggy is better than bloodstained."
She found a shirt — washed once, maybe — and tugged it over her head. It hung past her hips, sleeves dangling like vines, but she cinched it with a looped rope belt. "Stylish."
Aristea raised a brow, then held up a pair of battered sneakers. "What about shoes?"
"Size of small boats," Eva muttered, slipping one on anyway. "Good enough to run in."
Aristea tried a pair for herself, but nothing fit. Her feet were too long for the boy - sized sneakers in the bag. "Figures," she sighed. "I'm cursed with long legs."
Eva gave her a dry smile. "You're nine. You look twelve."
"Royal genetics," Aristea said with mock solemnity. "We grow tall and unforgiving."
Eva snorted. "I'll grow into vengeance later."
"You already have," Aristea said, voice softening.
Their eyes met. For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them was thick, not empty.
Then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. The girls tensed. Eva put a finger to her lips. The steps paused, then retreated. The door never opened.
They exhaled.
Eva whispered, "Now. We check the bags. There might be weapons."
The rucksack near the door was carelessly half - zipped. Eva opened it the rest of the way, rummaging through the contents quickly but quietly. Snacks. Flashlight. Rope. Two daggers wrapped in cloth.
Her eyes widened slightly as her fingers closed over the hilts. "These will do."
She turned and handed one to Aristea, who took it with quiet reverence.
"I've never held a real one before," she whispered.
"Don't think. Just aim for soft parts," Eva replied. Her voice was all steel now.
Aristea met her gaze. "You're terrifying."
"I'm scared out of my mind."
"Still terrifying."
Eva smirked faintly, the humor a thin thread over adrenaline. "Let's move."
The door creaked slightly, but no one stirred. Outside, the air was thick with humidity, and the moon filtered through half - dead gum trees. They were in A••••••••, yes — but nowhere near civilization. It could be hours, even days, to reach help. Still, escape was the only option.
Eva made quick work of the tires on each vehicle — four in total — puncturing them with precise, quiet jabs of the dagger. They wouldn't be followed.
Then, they ran.
They didn't stop for miles. Every rustling leaf made Eva's pulse quicken. Aristea, despite her noble blood and delicate looks, kept pace. Their feet tore through grass and roots, bruising and bloodying as they went. Eva limped from the start, the sprain worsening from an earlier fall when she shielded Aristea from a collapse of rotted timber.
"I can walk," she insisted through gritted teeth.
"No," Aristea said firmly, lifting her without hesitation. "You saved me. I carry you."
Eva didn't argue again.
Eva sat with her back to the stone, her injured ankle propped on a folded jacket. She fidgeted, fingers worrying the edge of her oversize shirt. It kept slipping down her shoulder. "This shirt is ridiculous," she muttered. "I look like I raided a scarecrow."
Aristea glanced over from where she was tucking the flashlight beneath a flat stone, hiding its shine. "You look adorable," she said without hesitation.
Eva flushed. "That's not very tactical."
"Adorable is tactical," Aristea said, smirking. "Distracts the enemy. Disarms them."
"Distracts you, maybe," Eva said too quickly, then bit her tongue.
Aristea's brows rose, the smirk deepening. "So you admit I'm an enemy now?"
Eva's eyes went wide. "No! I mean — ugh — you're so annoying."
"I like when you ramble," Aristea said, sitting beside her again. "You're sharp when you're quiet, but when you fluster — mm, that's the good stuff."
Eva covered her face with both hands. "I'm literally dying."
"No, you're just discovering," Aristea said lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind Eva's ear. "You don't have to apologize for being curious. I like you curious."
Eva peeked through her fingers. "You're not normal."
Aristea grinned. "Oh, huntress. You haven't seen anything normal. You grew up in glass, but me? I watched people like paintings. I know how to read." She leaned in, resting her chin on Eva's shoulder. "And you, my favorite little genius, want to be studied just as much as you want to pretend you don't."
Eva went completely still. "That's not true."
Aristea's voice dropped to a whisper. "You could've pulled away when I kissed you."
Eva looked down, cheeks hot. "I thought it was for luck."
"It was. But the second one?" Aristea tilted her head. "That was for me. You let me."
Eva's throat worked. "I don't know how to do this."
"I'm not asking you to," Aristea said gently. "I'm just letting you feel. You've spent your whole life thinking. For once, just… feel, Eva."
Eva blinked rapidly, caught between awe and panic. "You call me that like you own it."
"Maybe I do." Aristea smiled, lazy and satisfied. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No," Eva whispered before she could think.
Aristea leaned closer. "Say it again."
Eva swallowed, barely audible. "Don't stop."
Aristea brushed her nose against Eva's cheek, then kissed the edge of her jaw. "Good. Because I wasn't planning to."
Eva's hands fluttered helplessly at her sides. "You're so — so sure of everything."
"Not everything." Aristea kissed her temple now. "Just this."
There was a long silence. Eva didn't pull away. Her eyes fluttered shut, and Aristea just… held the moment. Wrapped in shadows and sweat and stolen peace.
Then, Aristea murmured, "When we get out of this, I want to see you in real clothes. Not boy - scout castoffs. Maybe a dark velvet coat. Or a storm - colored dress."
Eva let out a tiny laugh. "A dress?"
"You'd look dangerous in silk," Aristea said seriously. "Like you'd kill someone at a royal banquet and still get dessert."
Eva opened her eyes. "I don't know if that's a compliment or a threat."
"Both," Aristea said smugly. "But mostly? It means I see you."
Eva's smile trembled. "And I think I'm starting to see you, too."
Aristea kissed her again, featherlight, then pulled back with a grin. "You're blushing. I win."
"You cheated!" Eva shoved her playfully.
"I studied," Aristea said, laughing. "Big difference."
Eva shook her head, laughing softly too. "I can't believe we're like this resting. While hiding. After stabbing truck tires."
"We're chaos in motion," Aristea said proudly. "Iconic."
They sat like that for a little while longer, letting themselves breathe, letting the weight of fear melt just for a moment into something warmer. Not quite love. Not quite innocence. Something fierce and strange and shimmering — on the edge of wildness.
Soon they would run again. But now, they simply rested. Together.
Eventually, the trees thickened and the wind turned cooler. Aristea spotted the dark mouth of a cave beneath a ridge and changed direction without a word. She slipped inside, set Eva down gently, and crept back out to drag down a broken tree branch. With effort, she wedged it near the entrance, masking their presence.
Inside, Eva rested against a rock, sweat streaking her pale face. Aristea returned, crouching close and pulling out a torn piece of cloth from her pocket. She dampened it with the last of their water and gently pressed it against Eva's ankle.
"You're better at this than you let on," she whispered.
Eva gave a weak smile. "Papa says… adapt or die. I think he meant it."
"Mine says nothing soft survives," Aristea muttered. "Guess we're both raised by wolves."
"More like jackals," Eva replied. They both laughed, too tired to care how hysterical it sounded.
When the laughter faded, Aristea leaned close and whispered, "I'll keep watch tonight. Tomorrow, we'll scout. We'll find help."
"No, I'll—"
"Sleep. That's an order, little moonbeam."
Eva blinked. "You sound like Yue."
"I'm channeling her spirit." Aristea smirked, then grew quiet. She pressed her forehead to Eva's. "Thank you, for everything."
Eva's lips trembled. "I was so scared. But with you, it wasn't unbearable."
Aristea reached out and gently took her hand. "Sleep now. I'll be here."
Eva hesitated, then squeezed her fingers. "If you get tired, wake me."
"I won't. I want to watch the stars. They look braver tonight."
"You always talk like poetry," Eva murmured sleepily.
"Because you hear me like poetry," Aristea whispered, brushing Eva's hair from her brow. "Sleep."
With that, Eva finally let herself rest, her injured foot throbbing beneath Aristea's careful wrap. Aristea stayed close, knees tucked under her, one hand still curled protectively around Eva's. She didn't move for a long time — just watched her.
Watched the way Eva's lashes cast soft shadows across her cheeks. The way her brow furrowed faintly even in sleep, like she was still solving problems behind her eyes. The genius girl, brave and small and hurting — but never broken.
Aristea smiled faintly.
Then, without a word, she leaned in and kissed her.
It was quick — barely more than a brush. A whisper of warmth.
Eva stirred, murmured something indistinct. Her fingers twitched, but she didn't wake fully. So Aristea kissed her again. And once more — this time at the edge of her lips, soft as a sigh.
"Still for luck," Aristea murmured to herself, a crooked smirk tugging at her mouth.
Eva's eyes cracked open slowly, glazed with sleep. "You're doing it again…"
"You weren't exactly stopping me," Aristea said smoothly, her voice barely above a whisper. "And you're cute when you're drowsy."
Eva blinked, dazed and pink - faced. "That's not… tactical."
Aristea laughed quietly, brushing a knuckle down Eva's cheek. "No, but you are. And besides, I'm making sure you rest. This is a comfort measure."
Eva buried her face in the crook of her elbow. "It doesn't feel very standard procedure."
Aristea leaned down and whispered near her ear, "You didn't say you hated it."
Eva mumbled something unintelligible, but her ears were glowing red.
"I thought so," Aristea said smugly. Then, she kissed her one last time — slower this time, barely more than a breath, but it lingered.
When she pulled back, Eva's face was still hidden. "You're such a menace," came the muffled complaint.
Aristea chuckled. "And you're ridiculous. You've memorized medical nanobot schematics but get flustered by me."
"That's not fair," Eva grumbled. "You're unpredictable. Dangerous."
"Mm. Flattery will get you more kisses."
Eva groaned softly, refusing to lift her head. "This is a hostage situation."
"Oh, darling." Aristea leaned in, brushing her nose along Eva's temple. "You're not my hostage. You're mine."
That last part slipped out quieter than she meant it to — earnest and weighty in the stillness.
Eva peeked up then, eyes wide and uncertain. But she didn't pull away.
Aristea leaned in again, her lips brushing Eva's in the softest kiss. Then another — tender, slow, reverent. She paused just enough to speak between kisses, her voice a hush of warmth.
"You can kiss me back, you know," Aristea murmured, her breath tickling Eva's skin. "I don't mind."
Eva's cheeks turned a deeper pink, her fingers curling into the fabric of Aristea's sleeve. "Okay," she whispered, barely audible.
Then it was Eva who leaned in, shy but willing, her lips meeting Aristea's with a feather - light press. They kissed again — back and forth, slow and searching, like they had all the time in the world. Each kiss a question. Each answer softer, braver.
Aristea smiled into the next one, her hand gently cradling the back of Eva's neck.
"Call me Arry," she whispered, resting her forehead against Eva's. "Please."
Eva's breath caught, her lashes fluttering as her lips parted in surprise. "Arry," she said softly, as though testing the name on her tongue for the first time.
And then Aristea kissed her again — deeper this time, but still careful. Like a promise. Like a beginning.
Outside, the insects sang their nighttime chorus, and somewhere in the dark, the trees shifted in the wind. But inside the cave, two girls wrapped in threadbare warmth pressed close to something rare. Not quite safety. Not quite freedom.
Something wilder. Truer.
And the wild held its breath, listening.