Part 1: Grief and the Void
The Weight of Loss
"It's strange how the worst, most horrible thing can happen to a person and life just sort of continues around you and you're just sort of… supposed to go with it."
Beca Mitchell lived a somewhat dreary existence, her days filled with nothingness and automation. Engaging with the bare minimum requirements of existence—getting groceries, going to the DMV, paying taxes, etc.—it was droll, unimportant, and tedious. She partook of said requirements because they were required of her, but she sure as hell wasn't going to be happy about it.
This all started a year ago, when she lost the love of her life, Chloe Beale. A woman with a smile so bright and eyes so blue they shattered through her defenses like they were made of paper mache. Chloe was the light in her darkness, and her warmth made existence bearable. When Beca lost her, she lost everything, and the world grew cold.
Behind the Turntables, Alive Again
"Nighttime was the only time I felt alive. Behind the turntables, I wasn't just me anymore, I was something more—something that could connect with others like me. It was a way to drown out the silence, to feel something again, even if it was just for a few hours."
Beca had always been incredibly talented for creating music, complex mixes that carried her emotions. With Chloe's support, she put herself out there and quickly gained a following. After Chloe's passing, she stopped playing gigs for months. When she rose from the darkness, her cult following had tripled. Her mixes were well-known and her midnight raves became the stuff of legends for the children of the night. This was when she came alive, behind the booth, creating complex mixes with darkened themes that spoke of her emotions, her grief and even her sexuality. She became renowned with those who lived with darkness in their hearts.
At night, her transformation began. Beca donned leather and latex with practiced ease, it was her uniform, her second skin. In the mirror, she no longer saw the hollow-eyed woman from the supermarket or the one who stood in line at the DMV, but Beca the DJ of Sorrow—alive, fierce, untouchable. And her music was the lifeline that pulled her from the abyss.
Tonight, the lost souls in the warehouse that danced and jumped to the hypnotic beat reached their maximum index of frenzy. This particular song was called "Exhaustion." It spoke of tiredness, conformity, and loss. Even though it carried no words, the beat, and its melodic symphony resonated its message deep into their hearts.
The Woman in the Shadows
"I'd seen her before of course, always watching, always there. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but no one travels the world just to watch a DJ play, right? There was something about her, something that drew me in. It wasn't just her beauty, not that she wasn't beautiful of course! But it was the way she looked at me, like she could see through me."
Off in a dark corner, leaning against the wall, a woman who seemed too sophisticated for this kind of place watched. She wore a long, black, translucent dress and her golden hair was elegantly styled in a high bun. Strangely, even in the darkness of the rave, she wore black sunglasses. Stranger still was that she came to each and every single one of Beca's raves. The woman had become a fixture at Beca's gigs. It didn't matter if it was in New York or Copenhagen—she was always there. Always in a corner, not dancing, just watching, reading her soul like a book she had yet to finish but was dying to reach its climax.
On this night, Beca was at her most desperate, her saddest. As she mixed, as she twirled the constellation of knobs in her booth that reflected colorful lights against the mirror-like sheen of her latex, she broke down, her tears making her black mascara run. It was Chloe's death anniversary. She bounced on the balls of her feet with energy and threw her hair as she danced like everyone else, and though her performance was electric, her sadness was ever present. To the woman in the corner, Beca Mitchell, the DJ of Sorrow, had never looked more beautiful.
A Drink in the Dark
"Walking home was the worst part. The music was gone, the crowd had dispersed, and I was alone again. I guess in a way even when I was surrounded by thousands of people, all dancing and losing themselves to my music, I was still alone."
Around 4 a.m., Beca went home, she lived in Atlanta, close enough to the nighttime action, but far away enough to keep a sense of mystery about her. She left the venue through the back and stuck to the shadows, avoiding the fans. She just never had energy for them, she was expected to smile, and she just couldn't bring herself to do so. A certain fan did find her though, and a black limousine pulled up alongside her. "Fuck," she thought quietly. She just wanted to get home and drink herself to sleep. The dark window scrolled down, and the beautiful blonde woman peeked her head out. "You were incredible tonight," the woman said. Her voice was low, sultry, and had a hint of a southern drawl that Beca couldn't quite pinpoint but it was elegant, polished and it reminded her of Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind.
"Thanks," Beca mumbled, but when she noticed, she immediately recognized her—it was the woman in the corner, the one constant in all of her gigs.
"It's—a shame, after such an incredible performance, going home with nothing to show for it. Without celebrating it."
"It's cool, I like it that way."
"You know, I've been watching you, not just tonight, but at every show. You really pour every bit of yourself into your music, into the night and then you disappear into the dark, where there's no one. And I'd wager no one understands why you can't stop."
Beca stopped on her tracks and turned to look at the beautiful woman in the limo. "How do you know that?"
"Because I've been there," the woman replied, her voice softening. "I know what it's like to feel like the night is the only time you're truly alive. And what it's like to give everything to your art and still feel empty."
Beca's breath hitched. She hated this, she hated being so transparent to this stranger. Finding herself getting irritated she barked, "Dude! What do you want?"
"To buy you a drink," the woman replied, unfazed.
"You just want to buy me a drink?" Beca asked, not believing her but still leaning towards the limo.
"That's it. No strings, no pressure. Just a quiet drink, some company and a place where you don't have to keep pretending to go through the motions of life."
"And that's all?" Beca asked, still hesitant but becoming increasingly more curious.
"Nothing more, unless you want it to be."
Seduced by Darkness
"I probably should have walked away. Every instinct told me to, but I couldn't. There was something about her, something that made me want to know more about her. Maybe it was the way she spoke to me, like she already knew me, or maybe it was just that I was tired of feeling so damn empty. I needed something—anything—to make me feel again."
Beca hesitated, glancing down the empty street. She was surprised by how tempting the offer was. She wanted to go back to her apartment, to sit in the dark and silence and drink until she fell asleep like she did every night. But there was something about the blonde that called to her, it felt like maybe she understood her better than anyone else, because in her eyes she saw the same loneliness she saw in herself.
Without another word, Beca took a step towards the limo. The door opened with a quiet click. Against her better judgment, Beca stiffly climbed in.
As soon as she slid onto the leather seat, she was handed a fine crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid. Beca muttered thanks and settled in next to the woman. Beca took a sip and closed her eyes as she took in the familiar taste. The bourbon was smooth, subtly sweet with a smokey undertone. It quelled the shakes of her increasing dependence. The woman eyed her carefully as she drank.
"How is it?" she asked, genuinely interested.
"Just what I needed," Bea replied. It wasn't a lie.
"Tell me more," Aubrey said, a hint of fascination in her voice. "I want to hear how it tastes."
Beca frowned slightly, confused by the request. "Why don't you just try it yourself?"
Aubrey smiled faintly, almost wistfully. "I don't drink," she said, her words laced with something Beca couldn't quite place. "I can't touch the stuff."
"Oh," Beca's mind went to the possibility of Aubrey being a recovering alcoholic, and she instantly regretted her suggestion. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"No need to apologize," Aubrey interrupted gently. "Just tell me... what does it taste like?"
"Well, it's like drinking a smooth caramel that is not overly sweet, it's subtle sweetness lingers on the palate without being overpowering, then just a faint trace of vanilla, and somehow you can almost taste the charred barrel it rested in for all those years."
The blonde woman had her eyes closed, drinking in her words. "That sounds delightful, you have a way with words."
Then the woman opened her eyes and looked deep into Beca's eyes.
There was something about the intensity with which she stared at Beca that made her flustered, and left her feeling exposed. She shifted a bit uncomfortably in her seat, eyeing the blonde woman next to her. "You still haven't told me your name."
"Sorry, I got carried away. I just can't believe you're actually here. My name is Aubrey Posen. It's nice to meet you." The woman extended her hand, it was polished, finely manicured and adorned with subtle and tasteful gold rings.
Beca frowned and studied her hand for a second before shaking it reluctantly. "Nice to meet you too."
The woman's smile never faltered, and Beca swirled the bourbon in her glass, trying her hardest to focus on it. "This isn't about just having a quiet drink is it?"
"You see right through me, don't you?" Aubrey's tone was playful, but her eyes remained serious, focused.
"What is it you want?" Beca asked, a little more sharply than she intended. The words were flustered, but there was also a strange sense of hope buried beneath the confusion.
Aubrey's smile deepened, though her expression softened as she leaned in slightly. "What I want," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "what I've wanted since I first saw you, is you."
"Uh, me?" Beca blinked, taken aback and unsure how to respond.
Aubrey's gaze looked deep into her soul. "Is that so strange? Everything about you is beautiful." The woman leaned closer to Beca. Beca instinctively pulled back, but inside the limo, she had nowhere to go.
"Your body," Aubrey whispered, as she leaned closer she placed a gentle hand on Beca's hip and her gaze slowly traveled over the woman's figure.
"Your hands," Aubrey whispered, her fingers brushing over the one Beca used to hold the tumbler. Beca's hand trembled beneath the gentle touch.
"Your lips." Aubrey's fingertips moved up and brushed lightly against Beca's lips.
"Your eyes," Aubrey continued, her voice soft but intense. "So full of sorrow."
Beca felt trapped under the weight of Aubrey's gaze, her mind swirling with guilt and something else she couldn't quite place. Aubrey's hand settled gently over her chest, right where her heart was pounding. "And your heart," Aubrey murmured, her eyes dark with desire. She could feel Beca's heart pounding beneath her palm, a rapid rhythm she didn't need to touch to hear.
There was something about Aubrey—something otherworldly and regal that Beca couldn't quite grasp. Every movement was graceful, almost choreographed, exuding an allure that felt both ancient and ageless. Her skin was like marble, smooth and flawless, and though she looked so young, there was an ageless quality to her beauty. And those eyes—captivating and mysterious—they held Beca's gaze as if she were the only person in the world.
Beca's breath quickened, and she found herself unable to break free from Aubrey's intense gaze. There was a deep longing inside her, one she had almost forgotten—a physical need to touch and be touched, to kiss and be kissed. But there was also a psychological yearning, she wanted to be wanted, she needed to be needed. Though she desired solitude, she paradoxically craved the presence of someone like Aubrey. This golden goddess, with her unwavering and unabashed desire for her, was impossible to resist.
"Damn it," Beca whispered as she closed the distance between them and kissed the blonde woman. The kiss was slow, maybe a bit careful, restrained. It wasn't a short story of a kiss—it was War and Peace, gradual, descriptive, and full of yearning. Painful, because she wanted more—so much more. But the kiss was laced with the poison of guilt. Beca wept as she kissed Aubrey.
I'm sorry, Chloe.
"Her kiss was like… the finest whiskey in the world—intoxicating, overwhelming and complex. The whole experience was just on another level. And it wasn't just the physical aspect of it, it was the way she made me feel. Like I was the only person in the world, like nothing else mattered. I knew it was dangerous, I knew I was playing with fire, getting into a strange woman's limousine, accepting her booze, kissing her… but I didn't care. I finally felt alive."
Aubrey pulled back from her kiss and noticed the tears in Beca's eyes. She studied them and her carefully, her eyes reflecting both pity and amusement. "You miss her, don't you?"
Beca simply nodded, it wasn't a mystery that the DJ of Sorrow had lost the love of her life, anyone that went to her gigs or had heard her mixes could tell. As Beca raised her hand to wipe away her tears, Aubrey grabbed her hand and said, "Don't, let me." Aubrey grabbed Beca's face with a surprisingly firm and delicate grip and turned her face to the side and ran her warm tongue over her cheek, licking away her tears.
Beca closed her eyes and gasped, the sensual yet bewildering act had taken her breath away.
"She was a lucky woman, to have earned those tears."
Aubrey gave Beca, an unreadable smile, and she thought to herself, What the fuck did I just get myself into?
The woman ravaged Beca. It was predatory. What started out as a slow exploration turned into chaos. She pressed Beca against the leather seat, pushing her deep into it as she kissed her. Beca tried to match Aubrey's energy and ferocity, but she was out of her depth. Aubrey paused to take in the beauty of her prey. Beca was breathing hard, flustered, scared, and aroused. She was completely taken by her.
Beca stretched out her hand to caress Aubrey's cheek. Aubrey instinctively pressed her face against Beca's hand, but what for some might be an act of warmth and love, to Aubrey, it felt like an act of submission. Aubrey smelled her hand, inhaling her sweet fragrance, then placed a gentle kiss on her palm. The sweetness of the gesture shifted as she took Beca's fingers into her mouth and sucked on them. Sweetness and gentleness were no longer present in this moment, this was lust and desire at its most carnal. Beca moaned, she'd never had her fingers sucked before, and it felt like Aubrey was trying to extract her soul from her fingertips.
Aubrey returned to kissing her, starting on a path that led to bigger and better things. She drifted downwards, kissing Beca's neck and inhaling her scent. When her cold lips pressed against Beca's skin, shivers ran down her spine. Aubrey's teeth lightly scraped her, making Beca suck in a breath at the light and sudden flash of pain.
There was a second of hesitation before Aubrey continued moving downward, taking a nibble here and there as her hands roamed Beca's body. Her touch was possessive and commanding. She quickly began undressing Beca, who moved automatically to allow Aubrey to strip her with ease.
Before she knew it, Beca was naked and helpless on the seat. Her pale skin contrasted against the dark leather of the couch. She felt raw and vulnerable as Aubrey hovered over her, watching, examining every inch of her petite body—the way her ribs showed in the dim light, how her breasts heaved beneath Aubrey's gaze, the curve of her hips. Aubrey loved every line, every curve. It was clear she had been wanting Beca all to herself for a while now.
Aubrey couldn't wait any longer. She began to worship Beca's body, kissing every inch of her. When her lips found Beca's breasts, she breathed life into them, placed gentle kisses on them, and then passionately and possessively sucked on them. Beca gasped desperately as Aubrey gently bit, sending shocks of electricity that ran from her nipples to every inch of her body. Beca couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this way.
Moving downward, Aubrey forcefully pushed Beca forward and spread her legs apart. Beca conceded, letting Aubrey shift and mold her however she damn well pleased. Aubrey leaned down and kissed Beca's inner thigh, her warm breath driving Beca wild. Tired of the games, Aubrey pressed her lips gently against Beca's pussy. Beca was already dripping with desire, and Aubrey eagerly drank her in. Their eyes locked, and Beca saw Aubrey's dark blue eyes turn red, and the yellow within them glowed. Beca swore she was losing her mind, but as Aubrey's unnaturally long tongue roamed inside her, hitting every delicate spot and sending waves of ecstasy, Beca's eyes rolled to the back of her head.
Oh! Who fucking cares.
Aubrey's nails dug into Beca's thighs as she explored her with expert, insistent strokes. Each lick was both gentle and fiery. The limousine was filled with Beca's desperate moans and the eager, wet sounds of Aubrey's mouth. Beca leaned forward and grabbed Aubrey's perfect golden hair, wanting to push her away, but instead, she pulled her in, demanding, begging for more.
Beca threw her head back, surrendering, letting the pleasure take over. Aubrey, eager to please, quickened her pace, her lips closing around Beca's clit and sucking hard. Beca's body tensed as she teetered on the edge. When Aubrey pressed her tongue against her just right, Beca cried out, her body convulsing as she came. Her mind went delightfully blank, the glass she had miraculously held on this whole time, slipped from her grasp.
Aubrey, the relentless predator, didn't stop. She continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of Beca's pleasure until she was spent and trembling. When Beca's legs finally stopped shaking, Aubrey relented. She leaned back, admiring her handiwork, the broken, vulnerable woman trembling beneath her. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand and murmured, her voice thick with desire, "You taste even better than I imagined."
Beca could only nod, her body too worn and exhausted to form a coherent response. She felt like she had been torn apart and put back together by Aubrey's touch, by her tongue.
Aubrey climbed up and straddled Beca, sultrily grabbing her face and pushing her head back. She placed a gentle kiss on Beca's lips and said, "Don't worry, my beautiful Raven, we're just getting started."
Raven? Beca wondered as she nodded again, trying to regain her breath and will her soul back into her body.
Take me home
"I don't know how long I was in the limousine. But I know it took a while for my legs to stop shaking. I think she took pity on me a little bit, or I think she was just letting me rest for what would happen later. Either way, I was grateful. She took me to her home, and I knew I was once again pushing my luck, tempting fate or whatever. Her home was something out of Mary Shelley's novel if… well if she was southern. And yeah, I was absolutely taken by it."
The limousine glided smoothly through the thick woods of Georgia, the trees growing denser as they traveled deeper into the estate. Beca sat quietly in the back seat, still catching her breath from the whirlwind of passion that had unfolded only moments before. She glanced at Aubrey, who remained perfectly composed beside her, as if she hadn't just brought life back into Beca's dreary existence.
The dim lighting in the limo cast shadows across Aubrey's face, highlighting the delicate curve of her lips and the sharpness of her jawline. She looked ethereal, almost untouchable, and it made Beca feel even more disoriented.
As the limousine pulled into the long, gravel driveway, Beca's eyes widened at the sight of the structure that loomed ahead. She stepped out of the car, still feeling disheveled, her clothes rumpled, her hair tousled from their earlier encounter. Her breathing was still a bit uneven, but the sight of the house stole whatever words she might have said.
The house—no, the mansion—was something out of another time. Its dark facade almost blended in with the shadows of the towering trees surrounding it. Tall white columns lined the front of the mansion, holding up an expansive veranda that stretched across the entire front, a relic of its past. Ivy crept up the sides of the building, intertwining with the black shutters and creeping around the iron railings. The massive double doors were made of rich mahogany, polished to a dark sheen, framed by intricate wrought-iron details that gave the impression of something forbidding.
"Is this... is this where you live?"
Aubrey stepped out beside her, her presence calm and composed, in contrast to Beca's lingering breathlessness. "It's been in my family for generations," she said, her voice soft but carrying a hint of pride. She closed the limo door with a quiet click. "Since before the Civil War."
"The Civil War?" Beca turned to her, eyes wide. She had grown up hearing stories about grand old Southern houses like this, but seeing one up close—especially after everything that had just happened—was surreal.
Aubrey nodded, her gaze drifting toward the house. "My family built it when the land was still wild. Back then, it was much smaller, more modest. Over the years, I've… expanded it. Added rooms, a ballroom, a library." Her lips curved into a faint smile. "I've always loved beauty, and there's something about this place that feels eternal, like it belongs to the night."
"I've never seen anything like this," Beca admitted. "It's... beautiful."
"Thank you, you are actually the first person I bring here in a long time," Aubrey said with a soft voice as she extended her hand.
"I'm honored, I guess," Beca said as she took Aubrey's hand.
They walked inside, stepping into the grand foyer where the marble floors gleamed beneath the soft glow of the chandelier above. But the grandeur of the house wasn't what caught her attention next. It was the kitchen.
As Aubrey led her in, Beca couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the room. The kitchen was both massive and intricate, a perfect blend of antique charm and modern luxury. A stunning French range dominated the space, made of dark blue and black iron, its size imposing yet elegant. The range gleamed in the soft light, a testament to its craftsmanship. Beca had never seen anything quite like it. State-of-the-art appliances tucked seamlessly into the cabinetry. Despite the range and the old-world charm of the dark wood cabinets and ornate details, the kitchen was equipped with the latest technology. It was the kind of kitchen that would make any chef envious.
Aubrey moved gracefully around the space, her fingers brushing lightly over the iron surface as she gestured to the room. "This is one of my favorite parts of the house," she admitted. Aubrey opened a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "Would you like another drink?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with warmth.
"Yes, please," Beca replied, her gaze drawn to the beautiful bar that stood against one wall. It was sleek and polished, with crystal decanters and bottles of fine liquor displayed like a work of art.
Aubrey smiled and poured a glass of bourbon, her movements fluid and practiced. The bottle she selected was one of the finest and most expensive bourbons in the world—Pappy Van Winkle Family Reserve 20 Year Old, known for its rarity and quality. Beca's eyes widened as she recognized the label.
"Wow, this is... really expensive," Beca said, unable to hide her surprise.
Aubrey chuckled softly, handing her the glass. "I was hoping to share it with someone who would appreciate it one day. And today is that day."
Beca took a sip, savoring the rich, complex flavor of the bourbon as it warmed her from the inside. The tension that had been coiled in her chest since they had arrived began to ease, and she found herself relaxing in the cozy, intimate atmosphere of the kitchen. It was a contrast to the rest of the house—bright, inviting, yet still touched with a sense of quiet elegance, like Aubrey.
Aubrey leaned against the counter, her gaze soft as she watched Beca. "Do you like to cook?"
Beca shook her head, laughing lightly. "No, not really. I'm more of a takeout kind of a gal."
Aubrey laughed, her voice warm and genuine. "Same. You'd think with a kitchen like this, I'd be cooking gourmet meals every day."
Beca smiled, the shared humor lightening the mood. "Seems like a waste for such a beautiful space."
Aubrey's eyes twinkled as she took a sip of her own drink. "Maybe. But in a way it's the heart of the house, even if it's underused."
There was a brief pause, a quiet moment where the two women stood together, enjoying the shared silence between them. The mansion, for all its grandeur, felt strangely intimate in that moment, as though it had shrunk to just the two of them standing in the warm glow of the kitchen.
Aubrey set her glass down, her gaze lingering on Beca. "Let me show you the rest of the house," she said, her voice low, inviting.
Beca nodded, feeling the pull of Aubrey's presence as she followed her out of the kitchen. As they made their way down the hallway, Beca's curiosity grew, her eyes wandering over the intricate details of the house—the dark wood, the heavy drapes, the ornate molding that adorned the ceiling. It was a house steeped in history, but it was also a reflection of the woman who lived in it. A blend of old and new, tradition and mystery.
Finally, Aubrey led her into a large, luxurious bedroom, the centerpiece of which was a massive four-poster bed with dark velvet curtains that pooled on the floor. The room was lit by the glow of a crackling fireplace.
"This is… my bedroom," Aubrey said softly, watching Beca's reaction as she took in the room.
"It's beautiful," Beca whispered as she walked into the room.
Beca went straight towards the bed, her fingers brushing against the smooth, cool surface of the velvet drapes. In that moment, all she could think of was how much she wanted to stay in this beautiful, dark place and especially if the blonde standing by the doorway was here with her.
Aubrey approached her slowly, and reached out, gently cupping Beca's chin, her thumb brushing softly across her lips. "I'm glad you're here," she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with meaning.
Beca didn't reply. She didn't need to. The look in her eyes, the way her body leaned into Aubrey's touch, said everything.
Minutes of passion felt like hours that felt like days. Beca had known how intense making love could be, she and the redhead of her dreams had their fair share of marathons, but this was something else. While making love with Chloe had been strenuous, it was also shrouded with deep warmth and love.
Sex with the golden goddess was athletic as well, and she felt muscles she didn't know she had, and in fact, was now starting to develop. But there was something else, the woman was so incredibly strong, and in everything she did felt like she was holding back, trying to be gentle with Beca, even when she wasn't. Even when she was pushing her down, guiding her, when she was being the roughest Beca had ever been touched, it still felt like she was holding back. It was infuriating.
She lost herself to the woman, not knowing where she ended and Aubrey began. It was triumphant because when she got the golden goddess to come, whether with her fingers or her mouth, it felt like an achievement, like she fulfilled her purpose.
Part 2: Eternally Yours
The Choice of the Damned
Beca didn't know at which point during the extraneous activity she had fallen asleep, but as she slowly woke up in the beautiful yet empty bed, a wave of panic washed over her. Her hair was a tangled mess, telling tales of the thrashing passion that had left her exhausted. Blinking away the haze, she scanned the room and spotted Aubrey sitting on a small beauty chair in front of a vanity with different and carefully organized types of makeup and brushes—but oddly, there was no mirror. Draped in a beautiful, expensive red satin robe, Aubrey's golden hair fell over her shoulders as she calmly combed through it, a small frown on her face, lost in thought.
Beca had to ask the question that had been in her mind since she first got into her limo. "Why me? Why did you pick me?"
Aubrey's eyes flickered, her gaze momentarily shifting away as though she was weighing how much to reveal. She let out a soft breath, almost imperceptible, and her usual composure seemed to falter for a fraction of a second. "I should ask you the same question," Aubrey replied, her voice calm but carrying a slight edge of something deeper. "Out of all those fans, why did you let me take you home?"
Beca looked down and considered it for a second. It all felt like a blur, a haze, but one thing was for certain, it did not feel like she had a choice. "No, if there was any type of picking involved, it was you. You picked me. And I think you've been waiting for the time to pick me."
Aubrey let out a quiet laugh, but it was hollow. "You continue to see right through me."
Aubrey stood up, walked over to Beca, and sat behind her. "Do you mind if I…?" She gestured at the comb in her hand.
Beca nodded, feeling a strange mix of tension and comfort as Aubrey sat behind her and began gently brushing her hair. The repetitive motion soothed her nerves.
"Thank you. While I do love how beautifully frazzled your hair looks, and I love how I played a part in it, I haven't had the chance to comb someone's hair in so long, and there's just something so delightfully intimate about it."
"Um, right," Beca said softly as Aubrey lovingly ran the brush over her deep brown hair.
Aubrey was right, it was intimate. Beca could feel herself melt away with each stroke of the brush.
"Feel good?"
"Hmm," was all Beca could muster right now. She knew she was putty in the woman's hands, but she didn't care, it felt good to let go and be taken care of. And for the first time in a long time she felt relaxed.
"You're right, I did pick you."
Beca felt this inexplicable wave of calm wash over her. It was like a deep-seated insecurity had been released. She had been picked, out of millions—this golden goddess had picked her, and it felt so flattering.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the soft drag of the comb through her hair. Aubrey finally spoke again, her voice quieter, more vulnerable. "Because when I look at you, I see something I know all too well."
Beca's eyes opened, and though she didn't turn to face Aubrey, she listened carefully, sensing something deeper in the blonde woman's words.
"I've been alone for a long time," Aubrey continued. "Longer than I care to admit. It's a kind of loneliness that sinks deep into your bones, and no matter how many people surround you, it never goes away."
Beca's heart tightened. The weight of Chloe's absence had crushed her, and even though she'd continued living, every moment felt empty.
"I saw it in you, Beca," Aubrey said gently. "That same loneliness. After you lost Chloe, I could see how alone you've been... even in the middle of a crowd."
Beca's eyes filled with tears, but she didn't speak. She didn't need to. Aubrey's words were cutting right into her heart, exposing the raw truth she hadn't wanted to admit.
"I've been drawn to you because I know what it's like to live in the shadow of loss," Aubrey continued, her voice tender. "I see the same pain in your eyes that I've felt for years. And I knew that maybe... for the first time in a long time, I wasn't alone."
Beca felt a tear slip down her cheek. She turned slightly, her eyes meeting Aubrey's. "You've been alone for that long?"
Aubrey nodded slowly, her eyes dark with emotion. "Longer than you can imagine. And I don't want to be alone anymore."
Beca swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. "Neither do I."
"And I picked you because I want to give you a choice."
A choice? Beca thought.
"That's right, a choice, I never got," Aubrey responded, as if she'd listened to her innermost thoughts.
Beca turned around to face the woman who was gently brushing her hair. The small ring of yellow she had noticed deep inside her blue eyes grew, it was now more visible, maybe even vicious. And that's when Beca saw something that made her blood run cold. Aubrey's lips parted slightly, and in the dim light, Beca caught a glimpse of something sharp—fangs, long and glinting. The woman, the goddess that she had just made love to, had turned into a predator and she was inches from her neck. Beca's eyes widened with horror.
Her voice trembled as she asked, "W-What are you? Really?"
Aubrey smiled a little mischievously. "Some have called me a monster, but I like what you've been calling me more, golden goddess."
And in a matter of microseconds, the woman sunk her teeth into her neck, striking precisely the jugular.
Beca gasped in pain, she tried to breathe in but she couldn't. It felt like her body froze, it tensed. Her joints froze, and she couldn't move, in that moment she became a living statue, the only thing she could feel was the dual stabbing at her life force, she would die and she could do nothing about it.
The choice, the golden goddess's voice rang clear inside her head. Beca closed her eyes, readying herself.
"I can hear you? You're inside my head?" Beca thought, puzzled.
The choice I never got, my beautiful DJ of Sorrow, is a difficult one.
"A difficult choice…" Beca echoed in her head.
I can give you that which you've craved since that night when you lost her, that release from this mortal existence, no more trips to Walmart, no more bureaucracy, only nothingness, freedom.
"You— are talking about killing me?"
Painlessly, mercifully, but yes, ultimately killing you.
"I thought… you liked me. What we did, what I let you do to me, I thought…" Beca was confused, how can anyone make love to someone so passionately and then kill them?
Oh darling, the woman chuckled deep into her subconscious, don't you get it? I do, I like you so much, and that's why I'm offering this to you, I'm just so tired of seeing someone as beautiful as you suffer.
Somehow she felt a strange form of connection with the woman, and breaking through the momentary frozenness, she laid a hand over Aubrey's and whispered, "What's the other option?"
The other option might be deceptively appealing but I promise you it isn't.
"Tell me," Beca was able to whisper, through gasps.
Become mine.
"Yours?" she repeated out loud.
Mine, and only mine. Forever.
Her thumb gently caressed Aubrey's arm. To be hers. She had no idea what that meant, what it looked like, but even though she was threatening her with death, the last few hours with this golden goddess she had felt the most alive she had in months. To die, or to be possessed were her only choices, any other day, she'd chosen to die. Beca Mitchell was a rebel on her best day. Tonight was not it, she was broken and had been for so long and tonight she got a taste of what it felt like to be whole, if only for a moment.
"To die, or to be yours?" Beca breathed, her voice barely holding it together.
Yes.
She thought about it again, Chloe's face peered into her mind. Chloe hugging her, telling her about her day, and eagerly listening to hers, having quiet dinners, making love at midnight, encouraging her to pursue her passion, Chloe showering her with absolute unapologetic love, she missed that so much. Life without love had felt so empty, so dark.
In my Darkest Moment
"I've always been drawn to darkness. Maybe it's because I've lived in it for so long. But this… this was something else. The crazy thing is that I wasn't scared, not really. I know I should have been, but all I felt was a strange sense of relief. She was giving me a choice—a way out of the emptiness. To die, or to be reborn into something new. But it wasn't really a choice, though. I'd been dead for a year already."
And in that moment a tear escaped her eyes and then she said in a desperate shaky whimper, "Will you love me?"
"Until my dying breath," was the woman's answer, even from within Beca's subconscious, Aubrey's voice was resolute and unwavering.
"Then I'm yours," Beca surrendered, her thoughts still on the glowing redhead and her vibrant smile. I'm sorry, Chloe. I'm so tired, I'm so tired of being alone, of being in pain. Please forgive me. But I- I just need to let go.
"Good, because I'm famished." Aubrey Posen sank her teeth deeper into Beca's neck. Blood flowed freely from Aubrey's lips, it ran down Beca's front, drenching her in her own crimson blood. Beca's vision became blurry, she could feel her body growing freezing cold, and yet there was a sensual warmth here that was inexplicably similar to the love they had just made. She gripped Aubrey's hand tightly, while the other held onto the sheet, her breathing quickened as her heartbeat continued to slow. The rich blood flowed down her body, coating her breasts, her stomach, and between her legs.
It was messy.
Aubrey drank deeply, taking the smaller, weaker woman to the very brink of death, only stopping a fraction of a second just before her heart slowed to a halt. Aubrey released Beca, her body almost lifelessly slumped to the side.
"You were right, hints of caramel," Aubrey said as she wiped the blood off her chin.
Beca lay on her side, her body limp and her eyes wide open as she faded into the dark. Aubrey gently lifted her and placed her head over her lap. She looked so beautiful, so frail. For a second, Aubrey hesitated and gently ran her hand over the dying woman's cheek. But her eyes softened with longing, and she cut open the tip of her finger with her nail. She ran the tip, covered in her blood over Beca's lips, staining them deep red. Aubrey, entranced by the sight, thought about kissing her again, but she could hear how slow the woman's heartbeat was and decided not to risk it. Then she inserted her finger into her mouth, pressing the tip covered in blood on the woman's tongue.
"Drink," she commanded softly.
Beca's blurry vision began to clear and she saw the golden goddess hovering overhead. She was all she could see, her and only her. In those eyes, Beca saw worry and what she hoped was love, or affection at least. She wrapped her lips around Aubrey's finger and sucked her blood. Little by little, drop by drop, warmth returned to her body.
That warmth turned into scalding, and her body was engulfed in fire from within. Beca's eyes widened, and she screamed in pain. Her shriek was high pitch and guttural. But she couldn't stop drinking from her. It hurt, and yet she couldn't stop. She desperately needed it, and her body thrashed violently as it screamed for it. It was worse than her need for alcohol, it was a thirst that the more she drank didn't go away.
Aubrey grimaced, having her own blood drained from her was uncomfortable, but she knew that it was nothing compared to what Beca was going through. She cradled her head and rocked her, letting Beca drink from her as much as she needed. She whispered gentle comforting words over and over again, "It's alright, it's going to be alright. I know it hurts. But I'm here, I have you."
She has me and she'll love me, I can take this pain
And so that night Beca Mitchell, the DJ of Sorrow, was reborn.
From the Ashes
It took hours but eventually, the fire and humanity within Beca extinguished. Beca's violent thrashing slowed and a strange calm took over. She blinked up at Aubrey, her dark gray-blue eyes now shared the same yellow glow within them as hers. Her new senses adjusted to the dim light of the room. Everything was sharper and clearer. She could hear even the faintest whisper of Aubrey's breath, and the slow and steady rhythm of her heartbeat. Aubrey looked worried as she held her face.
"Welcome back," Aubrey murmured, her voice filled with relief and warmth. She gazed down at Beca, cradling her gently in her arms. Beca stared up at her, a child-like curiosity and exhaustion lingering in her wide eyes.
"What... what am I now?" Beca asked in a whisper, still reeling from the transformation.
Aubrey's smile widened slightly, though there was a trace of hesitation in it. "You're mine, my fledgling, my beautiful Raven," she replied simply, her voice carrying a quiet triumph. "And I am your mistress, we're blood-bonded. You're part of me, and I am part of you."
Something about those words felt right to Beca. It was a connection she hadn't realized she was missing, a belonging she thought she could never have again. She looked up at Aubrey with complete adoration, and whispered, "You're part of me, and I am part of you." The words rolled off her tongue naturally, settling into the air as if they had always been meant to be spoken.
They lay there together, Aubrey's arms wrapped tightly around Beca's body. The coolness of Aubrey's skin against her own should have been strange, but instead, it was comforting, almost grounding. Beca felt safe, even though her senses were on overload—everything around her was sharper, clearer, louder. The only thing anchoring her was Aubrey.
Blood and Bonding
But Beca's mind was racing, processing everything she had just gone through, the pain, the transformation, and most of all, the connection. "Aubrey," she whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty.
"Mistress," Aubrey corrected gently.
"Right um, sorry, Mistress… What did you mean by blood-bonded?"
Aubrey smiled, satisfied by her fledgling's submission, and shifted slightly, loosening her arms to look directly into Beca's eyes. "It's not something I take lightly," she began, her voice calm but deliberate. "The bond between us, it's... sacred. It means we're connected in ways most people couldn't even comprehend."
Beca swallowed, her throat still dry from the ordeal. "But what exactly does it mean?"
Aubrey sighed softly and rolled onto her side, propping her head up with one hand while her other gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Beca's face. "Turning you was just the first part of the ritual. A blood bond isn't a one-time thing; it's a process. Tonight, when I gave you my blood, that was the first part."
Beca nodded slowly, trying to keep up. The lingering sensation of Aubrey's blood inside her, changing her, still pulsed through her veins. "So… that was the first step?"
Aubrey's expression darkened slightly. "Yes. Turning you started the bond. But it's only the beginning. The second part happens when we willingly feed each other our blood. It's not just about sustenance, Beca. It's about sharing everything—our essence, our life force. It's... intimate, deeper than anything else. Once we do that, we'll feel everything the other feels."
Beca shivered, unsure if it was from Aubrey's words or the lingering effects of her transformation. "Feel... everything?"
Aubrey nodded. "Yes. The second part of the bond makes that connection stronger. But there's more." She hesitated, her voice softening. "The third part... It's permanent. It seals the bond completely. Once it's complete, we'll be tied together forever. We'll carry each other's joys and pain, and no matter what happens, the connection will never break."
The weight of Aubrey's words settled heavily in Beca's chest. The idea of being tied to someone forever—someone like Aubrey, powerful and dangerous—was terrifying. But at the same time, it filled her with a strange comfort, a sense of belonging she hadn't felt since Chloe. Aubrey was offering her something no one else could, an unbreakable bond.
"And once it's complete... there's no going back," Beca murmured, more to herself than to Aubrey.
Aubrey nodded, her fingers gently trailing down Beca's arm. "That's right. But it also means I'll never leave you. We'll be together forever."
Beca felt a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration. She had been running from loneliness for so long, from the emptiness and pain that came with losing Chloe. Now, here was Aubrey—this powerful, beautiful, dangerous woman—offering her a bond unlike anything she had ever known.
But the cost... it was so high.
"Is this really what I want?" Beca whispered, unsure of the answer herself.
Aubrey leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Beca's forehead. "You don't have to decide tonight. The bond isn't complete yet. But when the time comes... you'll know."
Beca closed her eyes and leaned into Aubrey's embrace, her mind still spinning from everything that had happened. She didn't know what she wanted, but in this moment, with Aubrey holding her so close, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time.
She felt... wanted.
Aubrey leaned in again, her voice soft as she kissed Beca's lips. "Are you ready to see what eternity looks like, my Raven?"
Beca nodded, a small smile finally breaking through the uncertainty. "I think I am."
"But I wasn't…
Part 3: The Cost of Immortality
First Kill, First Lesson
A crazed Beca clumsily ripped out the man's throat. She had no idea what she was doing but the hunger had become too powerful to avoid. And she lost herself. She drank what she could from him, the warm blood giving her life but it had been so messy, so desperate she barely got to drink and most of his blood spilled everywhere.
Aubrey watched from the corner, a mixture of concern and relief in her eyes. It had been days since Beca had turned, and when she learned what she had become she had refused to feed. Beca had locked herself in one of the many rooms in the mansion and refused to come out. So Aubrey brought her dinner every night of the two legged kind, and every night Beca refused.
As Beca stared at the man before her, every instinct screamed in protest. She could feel humanity slipping away with each passing second of hunger, a void gnawing at her insides. When she finally gave in, it wasn't just blood that had been consumed, but a piece of her own soul had been consumed by the darkness.
After she was done, Beca huddled in a corner, drenched in the man's blood as she cried, racked with guilt. Aubrey carefully approached her, Beca waved her off and when Aubrey still crept forward. Beca lashed out violently, and hissed while baring her fangs at the woman. She regretted it immediately. Aubrey didn't flinch of course, she only raised an eyebrow, chastising the much weaker and inexperienced fledgling, Beca's eyes widened with horror when she realized what she did and she covered her mouth and through tear-filled eyes mumbled, "Oh God! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Mistress, I didn't mean to—" She was horrified that she bared her fangs at her maker, her lover, her mistress.
"I know you are my love, I know." And Aubrey gently wrapped her arms around her, not caring that her beautiful and very expensive dress was stained with blood. Aubrey was quite comfortable being drenched in blood.
"I'm so sorry Mistress, I can't- I can't do this. I want to— for you but I can't…I can't just kill innocent people like this," Beca whispered, her voice trembling. "There has to be another way—can't I just drink animal blood or something?"
She could feel her senses heightened, every sound and scent more vivid and overwhelming. The idea of sinking her teeth into a living being repulsed her, yet the craving, that insatiable hunger, grew stronger every day.
"It's complicated, think of a small growing child, it needs nutrients to grow big and strong. Well my love right now, you are like a child, and the only proper nurturing you can get is from human blood, you can have animal blood but… It won't sustain you."
"But eventually I can live off animal blood?" Beca asked wistfully.
"If you call that living…" Aubrey scoffed, "What if—"
"What?"
Aubrey paused, choosing her words carefully. "What if... we chose differently?" She glanced at Beca, whose eyes were filled with confusion. "If we only fed on those who have harmed others. Would that ease your conscience?"
Beca's frown deepened. "You mean, like some fucked up version of vigilante justice?"
Aubrey smiled a hint of darkness in her eyes. "Something like that."
"That's when it all changed for me, I wouldn't kill Joe the salaryman who rode the train after his 9-5 to get home to his wife and kid. No, Aubrey took me to hunt men that preyed on other women. It worked, sufficiently enough, but I wasn't an avenger, I still struggled with it, I wanted to tell myself that I was better than them. I did what I had to do out of necessity, they did it because they were bad people. Whatever, it worked, their blood though disgusting gave me whatever it was that I needed to grow stronger. But I know, you're wondering how did we know they were evil? Aubrey had this power, she could read people's minds. It took me a long time to realize that power was the reason why she was often alone. She saw into people's minds, their hearts and in them she saw their intent. Anyway… under her guidance and direction I guess, I drank from the men that had killed, that raped, the men who's evil in their heart rivaled ours."
Apt Pupil
The man's legs stopped squirming when Beca drained every single drop from his body. Aubrey walked behind her and said with a small laugh, "You didn't even need my help this time."
"I guess not," Beca said, feeling strangely proud of herself. It hadn't been hard really, all it took was a horrible world, a park late at night, and a beautiful woman walking all by herself. The man tried to woo her, and when she repeatedly declined, he turned violent. She wished he hadn't, she wished he took the hint and then she wouldn't have had to rip open his neck with her fangs, and kill him.
"How did it feel?" Aubrey asked as she interlaced her fingers.
Beca sighed, and as she stood up she wiped the blood off her chin. "Not… great. I don't understand why the hunger doesn't go away. I mean, I still feel it, clawing at me. Does it go away?"
Aubrey's eyes turned sad and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, not really but…"
"But what?" Beca asked quickly.
"Nothing, it's nothing," Aubrey said quickly.
"Please tell me, Mistress."
"It's just there are others," Aubrey gestured at the dead men by their feet. "Who feel more fulfilling. Evil men, they just don't hit the spot, physically, so to speak, but I don't want to… taint your virtue."
"Are you saying innocent people taste better?"
Aubrey nodded slowly. "Unfortunately. But let's not dwell on that, my beautiful Raven, let's get you home to freshen up."
"Yes, Mistress." Beca nodded, and followed her quietly, still she couldn't shake those words out of her mind.
Innocence tastes better.
"Every time I fed, every time I took a life, I lost a little more of myself. At first, the hunger was so overpowering that it was all I could think about. But now... now it's different. Now, when I drink, it's like the thrill is gone, and all that's left is this gnawing emptiness that follows me everywhere. When I looked down at my hands, I saw that they were steady, but they didn't feel like mine anymore. They belonged to her… to Aubrey. My mistress…
She tried to comfort me, to reassure me. She kept telling me this is how it's supposed to be—that I was getting stronger, evolving— but it didn't feel like that.
And then there's Chloe. Would she even recognize me now? Would she be able to look at me without seeing a monster? I close my eyes, and all I can see is Chloe's face. It's been a year, and yet, it still feels like I'm waiting for her to come back, waiting for some part of me to feel whole again. But I know that's never going to happen."
Beca wiped her chin with the back of her hand, the metallic tang of blood still lingering in her mouth. Aubrey had been speaking, but Beca hadn't heard a single word.
They walked in silence, the city passing by in a quiet blur. Time felt distorted, each step taking longer than the last. The tension in her body didn't ease and her hands still shook faintly.
When they reached the mansion, Aubrey turned to her, her eyes soft but steady. "I'll draw a bath for you," she offered, her tone carrying its usual quiet command.
Beca nodded, but her feet hesitated at the door. She could feel the pull—the need to be alone, to escape the mansion's suffocating stillness. As Aubrey moved inside, Beca lingered, her eyes catching on the pale light filtering in from the outside world. The door still stood slightly ajar, and without thinking, she slipped back out into the night.
"It felt wrong to leave like that. Like I was breaking some sacred covenant between me and Aubrey. And for all I knew, I was. But at that time, that's what I needed. To remember if only for a second what it was like to be human, what it was like to have my hands unsullied by blood. And only Chloe could remind me of what that was like."
Return to you
She hadn't planned to come here. But standing before Chloe's grave now, it was the only place she could be.
The cemetery was dim, lit only by the pale glow of the moon. The grave was humble, with a small headstone nestled under a tree. The stone read, "Chloe Beale, The Light in my Darkness." The simplicity of it gnawed at Beca. Chloe had deserved more than this—she had deserved the world.
Beca knelt by the grave, her fingers tracing Chloe's name. "Hey, Chlo," she whispered, her voice soft, almost breaking. "It's me."
She sighed, leaning back against the tree as she stared at the grave. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Aubrey... she's... different, Chlo. She's amazing, but sometimes I just... I miss you. I miss how simple things were."
Beca's words hung in the air, heavy with emotion. She closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her. It had been so long since Chloe had been a part of her world, yet she still felt her presence every day.
Her chest tightened as she thought about the darker part of her life now. The blood. The death. Even the bad men, the ones who deserved it—did they really deserve to die like that? By her hands?
"I'm struggling, Chlo," Beca's voice cracked. "I know these men were horrible, that they did terrible things. At least that's what Aubrey tells me… she says I'm doing the right thing. But... it still feels wrong. Every time I um feed, I think about you, about the person I used to be. Would you even recognize me now? I don't know if I recognize myself."
Her words fell into the silence, and Beca's guilt felt like a weight pressing down on her chest. She buried her face in her hands, trying to fight the tears that were building behind her eyes.
"I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."
She was lost in her thoughts when she felt a familiar presence behind her.
"You found me," Beca said, her voice a little hoarse as she turned to see Aubrey standing at the edge of the cemetery.
Aubrey stepped forward, her face soft with concern and hesitated when she saw Beca's face and then the grave. "I didn't know... I guess you need to be alone. Do you want space?"
Beca shook her head. "No. It's alright, I'm glad you're here."
Aubrey stepped closer, standing beside Beca, looking down at Chloe's grave with reverence. There was a quiet pause before Beca spoke again.
"I'm sorry… for sneaking out."
"I— " Aubrey frowned for a second, hesitating. "I was worried. That's all. But… this is something you need?"
Beca nodded slowly. "Yeah, I come here every year," Beca said softly, her voice filled with both love and sadness. "I always tell her about my year, everything I've been through. She was my person before all of this. Before you."
Aubrey knelt beside her, her eyes scanning the simple headstone. "She must've been incredible," Aubrey said, awe filling her voice. "I can hear it in your music, but hearing it from you... it's different."
"She was," Beca whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. She swallowed hard before continuing. "This stupid headstone doesn't do her justice. It was all I could afford. Chloe didn't have any family. I was all she had." Beca's voice cracked. "But still, she was so bright, you never would have known. One day, I'd like to give her a proper resting place."
Aubrey's hand found Beca's, and she squeezed it gently. There was a beat of silence between them, filled with the night's stillness.
Beca's hand tightened around Aubrey's as a new thought surfaced—one she hadn't said out loud before. "I hate it, Aubrey," she whispered. "The killing. Even if it's those who deserve it... I still feel like I'm losing a part of myself every time I do it. I'm... I'm not who I used to be. I don't know if I can keep doing this."
Aubrey was silent for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly as she absorbed Beca's words. "You're doing what you have to do," she said softly, though there was a faint edge of confusion. "These men... they've hurt others. You're stopping that. Isn't that enough?"
Beca looked away, her voice barely a whisper. "But what if it's not enough for me?"
"Beca," she said quietly, "you're strong, you're not... losing yourself. You're becoming more." She paused, searching for the right words, her gaze flicking back to Chloe's grave briefly. "You're evolving."
There was a subtle tension in her voice, a quiet insistence that felt both comforting and controlling. Beca could sense it, but she didn't pull away. She didn't know if she had the strength to.
"I just don't want to forget who I was with her," Beca said, her voice breaking. "She made me feel... whole."
Aubrey's grip on Beca's hand tightened, almost imperceptibly. "You won't forget, Beca. Chloe will always be part of you. But..." She trailed off, her gaze softening, though a faint glimmer of possessiveness flickered beneath. "You're with me now. And I'm here to make sure you don't lose yourself. You're still you."
The words were gentle, but there was something else behind them, something unspoken. Aubrey didn't say it outright, but Beca could feel it—the unshakable belief that Beca was hers, now more than ever.
Beca let out a shaky breath. She didn't know what to say, what to believe. But Aubrey's touch, her steady presence, was enough for the moment. It dulled the sharp edges of her doubt, even if only briefly.
"I just... need time," Beca murmured, her eyes falling back to Chloe's name carved into the stone.
Aubrey didn't answer right away. She simply nodded, her fingers brushing lightly against Beca's. "I know. And I'll be with you... however long you need."
"Alright I—" Beca started.
"And if this is something you need," Aubrey interrupted, her voice smooth but edged with a quiet insistence, "to feel like you aren't losing yourself… then that's fine." Her eyes flicked to Chloe's grave, then back to Beca, the weight of her gaze almost tangible. "But you're not doing this alone anymore. I won't let you. I'll come with you, whenever you need. You understand?"
Beca hesitated, sensing the shift in Aubrey's tone—the mix of comfort and something else. Something she couldn't quite place. "Really?"
Aubrey's hand tightened around hers, firm but not harsh. "Of course, you're my Raven."
Beca smiled, her sadness temporarily forgotten, "Thank you… Mistress."
To be continued…