The journey back from Grogis had been quiet, too quiet for Virgil's liking. The wind whispered secrets between the trees, and the silence between him and Akita had taken on a strange weight. She sat behind him on Onyx, her arms loosely draped around his waist. He had offered her a cloak—heavy, fur-lined, and far too elegant for a slave—but she'd taken it without a word.
He hadn't spoken much since they left the vampire capital. Not because he had nothing to say, but because he was still thinking about Serf's state—more hollow than ever. The empire was cracking, and though Virgil had built his life on silence and distance, even he knew a storm was coming.
As they neared the edge of the western woods, a rustling noise echoed out from the thicket.
Virgil halted Onyx with a sharp tug. "Get down," he murmured to Akita, eyes scanning the dense brush.
Akita obeyed, sliding off the horse and landing softly. She gripped the dagger he'd given her days ago, the one she pretended not to care about.
Then came the sound again—heavier this time, followed by low whispers.
"Someone's here," Akita said, barely audible.
Virgil gave a sharp nod, his tone flat but alert. "Stay behind me."
Figures emerged. Three of them—bandits, but not the usual kind. These were too well-armed, too silent. Their eyes gleamed with hunger and recognition.
"Lord Virgil," one said mockingly. "Didn't expect to find you this far from your stone tower. With a pet, no less."
Virgil's eyes narrowed. "You've got five seconds to disappear."
The men laughed. "We're not here for pleasantries. Word is, you've taken something precious from the wrong people."
Akita shifted uneasily. She could feel the tension in Virgil's stance, the way his hand hovered just inches from his sword. But she could also see something else—restraint.
"Stay down," he repeated to her. But she didn't listen.
One of the men lunged, and Virgil met him mid-air, sword drawn in a single breath. Metal clashed, sparks flew, and the other two circled around—one heading straight for Akita.
She reacted without thinking. Her dagger found its mark—deep into the attacker's side. He yelped and staggered, but before he could recover, she ducked and slammed the butt of the blade into his knee.
Virgil glanced back in time to see her, hair wild and eyes burning, standing over the man she'd just felled.
She looked up, panting slightly.
He blinked.
Just for a moment, his cold veneer cracked.
"You disobeyed me," he said, voice low but not angry.
"I saved your life," she snapped back. "You're welcome."
He chuckled—just once. It was rough and reluctant. "You're getting bold, kitten."
"I've always been bold," she said. "You just like pretending you didn't notice."
The third man fled, realizing they were more trouble than they were worth. Virgil didn't pursue. Instead, he turned to Akita, walking toward her slowly.
"You could've run," he said.
"I know," she muttered. "I thought about it."
"But you didn't."
She shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether his voice held amusement, confusion, or something else entirely.
He stepped closer, brushing a strand of blood-streaked hair from her face with the back of his glove. "Why?"
Her answer came with hesitation. "Because… I'm tired of running."
Virgil stared at her, eyes unreadable. Then he nodded, once. "Good."
Akita blinked. "That's it?"
"For now."
He turned and mounted Onyx, offering her a hand. She hesitated, then took it, allowing him to pull her up behind him.
The ride home was still quiet—but not heavy.
Virgil said nothing, but the way he let her rest her head against his back spoke volumes.
And though Akita would never admit it, for the first time since she arrived in his manor, the silence between them didn't feel like a cage. It felt like something… new.
Something dangerous.Something real.
The manor stood silent upon their return, its stone walls echoing the tension between them. The ambush had left its mark—not just in the bloodstains on their garments, but in the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.
Virgil strode ahead, his cloak billowing behind him, while Akita trailed silently, her eyes fixed on the ground. The corridors seemed colder, the shadows deeper.
Inside the grand hall, Virgil turned abruptly, his eyes narrowing as they met hers.
"You disobeyed me," he said, his voice cold.
Akita met his gaze, her chin lifted defiantly. "I saved your life."
He stepped closer, the space between them charged with tension. "You presume too much."
She held her ground. "And you feel too little."
His hand shot out, gripping her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Careful, Akita. Your tongue might get you into trouble."
She smirked, despite the pressure on her jaw. "Perhaps I'm already in trouble."
For a moment, his grip tightened, then slowly, he released her, stepping back.
"You're not as weak as I thought," he murmured, almost to himself.
Akita's eyes searched his face, noting the flicker of something—regret? Admiration?—before his mask of indifference returned.
He turned away, his voice distant. "Get some rest. We have a long journey ahead."
As she watched him disappear into the shadows, Akita couldn't help but feel the shift between them. The ice was cracking, revealing the embers beneath it was slow and unsteady.