Page 48 of The Nephilim's Finesse

As the clapping subsided, I thought of Victorija. Though my duty was complete, my heart ached with longing for her touch, her presence. My desire to be close to her grew stronger with each passing moment. I wanted to share these moments with her. This tradition, this brotherhood—it all felt somehow hollow without her by my side. And as much as I tried to smile at my brothers and sisters, my thoughts couldn't be silenced.

As the cheers died down, I noticed subtle glances and gentle touches being exchanged among the members of the brotherhood. The sexual tension in the room began to rise, an unspoken signal that the next phase of our New Year's celebration was about to commence.

"Raph," a sultry voice whispered in my ear. I turned to see one of my sisters from the brotherhood, her eyes alight with desire. "Care to join me?" she asked, her hand trailing down my chest.

"Thank you, but no," I replied gently, meeting her gaze. "I appreciate the offer, though."

She smiled briefly at me and was soon in the arms of one of my brothers. I stole another glance around the room. Bodies were pressed together, hands freely roaming as clothes were shed, and moans of pleasure filled the air.

With everybody occupied, I exited the foyer, leaving behind the sounds of ecstasy and passion.

As I drove to the location that held Victorija, I tried to imagine what I'd say to her. Would she even listen? Could she forgive me for not being able to save Eldred? To take his death into account? Was she still furious that I couldn't let her go? My chest tightened, weighed down by a mix of guilt, fear, and longing. My thoughts raced, wondering how I could possibly bridge the distance that had grown between Victorija and me since Eldred's death.

Finally, I entered her room. It was only lit by the nightstand lamp. I lay the new books on the table next to the ones she’d already read. She was an avid reader and had completed all the books I brought the next day, so I brought her new ones daily. That was our only exchange for the last few days. Now, every time I entered, she lay in bed or was curled in one of the chairs, never acknowledging me. She didn’t talk to me for almost a week, which drove me crazy.

"Victorija?" I called out softly, my voice barely audible.

A shift in a dark corner was the only sign that she heard me.

I cleared my throat. “I’m … I’m sorry for what happened.”

Silence. “You're right. There's no one innocent in this conflict. We had to kill Eldred to get our friends back, and I’m not sorry that this monster, who tortured a teenage witch, has been killed.” Rage started to build again inside of me, and I had to take deep breaths to calm down. “But I’m sorry that you lost your friend.”

Victorija gave no answer. I had said everything except for one thing that sat deep in my heart. “I know we stand on opposite sides, and you have every reason to hate me. But I … I’d like to go back to the time before Christmas.”

Back when we held each other, her kisses made me whole, and her emerald eyes looked at me like she felt the same things I did.

The only answer I got was silence. I exhaled and turned to go. When I placed my hand on the scanner to leave the room, I heard a gentle "Raph," from the shadows, and as she stepped into the faint light, I could see the sadness etched on her face.

"I don't know if we can ever go back to how things were," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "Eldred was a friend, and his death showed that there'll always be a rift between us."

"Then let's bridge the rift," I pleaded, reaching out for her hand. "Together, we can find our way back to one another."

"Can we?" she asked, hesitating for a moment before placing her hand in mine. “Should we even? We are enemies, aren’t we?”

The air between Victorija and me was tense as I searched her eyes. "I wish..." I muttered, my voice barely audible. "I wish it wasn’t that way," I confessed, my heart hammering in my chest.

"But it is," she replied softly, her tone still holding a hint of anger. "You know you can change that. Both sides have made mistakes and have done terrible things. Let me go, and we can work together to find a solution to end this bloodbath for good."

I sighed. “I can’t decide this on my own. I need to talk to Nate and Puriel.”

With those words, the tension in the room lifted, and our bodies gravitated towards one another as if guided by an unseen force. My hands reached out, gently brushing against her soft skin. A shiver ran through her, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she stepped even closer, her eyes locked with mine.

“Thank you," she whispered, her breath warm on my face. I could feel the heat rising within me when our lips met, the passion between us building like a tidal wave. This wasn't just about desire or lust; it was about healing the rift that had formed between us.

Victorija's fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as our mouths moved against each other. I felt her desire as her body pressed against mine, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, lifted her off the ground, and walked to the bed. The intensity between us was palpable, and I wanted to get lost in this moment forever.

"Raph," she moaned against my lips, her voice barely audible. "Please...."

I couldn't deny her anything, not when the raw need in her eyes mirrored my own. I untied her robe with shaking hands, letting it fall to the floor. She wore nothing beneath, her pale skin illuminated by the dim glow. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her, so beautiful and vulnerable. As if in a trance, I traced the curve of her breast, feeling her nipple harden beneath my touch. A gasp escaped her lips, and she leant into my hand, silently asking for more. I obliged, cupping her breast and teasing her nipple between my fingers.

"Yes..." she whimpered, her voice thick with desire.

We moved together, our bodies joining in a dance as old as time itself. Our lovemaking was passionate but also tender, a testament to the bond we had formed over the last few months.

As we lay there, spent and entwined, I feared that we’d only be able to be together for a little while longer, even if I never wanted it to end.

I entered the library of the Nephilim, my eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the high windows. The air was heavy with the scent of old books while dust motes danced in the beams of light. All around me, towering oak bookshelves rose three storeys high, narrow walkways between them leading into the shadows. Here, we stored the knowledge of the Nephilim, accumulated over thousands of years.

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