Chapter 86: Ash and Warning Signs
The low hum of the generator pulsed in the background, a quiet rhythm beneath the silence that gripped the abandoned factory floor. Faint streaks of morning light filtered through cracked windows, catching in the air thick with dust. Everything looked ghosted in grey, forgotten and still — except for the steady drip of cold water and the quiet breath of a girl too flushed to blame the temperature.
Aria stood at the rusted sink, hair tangled, skin glowing with leftover heat from the night before. She splashed icy water on her face again, hoping the shock would calm her nerves — but it only made her shiver. Her palms braced the edge of the basin, water dripping from her chin.
The chill clung to every surface. The metal beneath her fingers was freezing. But none of it compared to the fire still lodged low in her belly.
Selene.
Her mouth. Her voice. The way her hands had roamed like they had all the time in the world. Even now, Aria could feel the imprint of Selene's touch — not just on her skin, but deeper. A warmth that refused to fade, even as the morning tried to pull her back to reality.
She didn't hear Selene walk in.
"Didn't expect you to be up."
Aria jumped at the sound of her voice and quickly reached for the towel, patting her face. "Couldn't sleep."
Selene stood a few feet behind her, casual as ever, arms crossed, shoulder leaned against the rusted frame of a support beam. She looked half-awake, but her gaze was sharp — too sharp.
"Too cold?" Selene asked, like she already knew the answer.
Aria shrugged. "That, and…" She hesitated. "Just… couldn't stop thinking."
Selene's lips curved slightly. "Same."
Aria didn't turn. She kept her eyes on the sink, like if she looked at Selene now, she'd lose the fragile grip she had on herself. Her heart was beating too fast again — and Selene wasn't even touching her.
"You're quiet this morning," Selene said, her voice low and calm as she stepped closer. "That's usually my thing."
Aria finally looked at her, her breath catching. Selene was barefoot, shirt slightly crooked on one shoulder, eyes half - lidded but hungry. Like she hadn't slept either.
"You're… hard to ignore," Aria said.
Selene smirked. "You didn't seem to be trying very hard last night."
"I wasn't." The words came out faster than Aria expected. "I didn't want to."
That brought a pause. Selene tilted her head slightly, as if weighing whether to push — then stepped closer until they were only inches apart.
"Good," she said simply. "Because I didn't want you to stop."
Aria swallowed. "You're dangerous, Selene."
"I know."
"You act like you don't care," Aria whispered. "But the way you touched me…"
Selene leaned in, fingers brushing against Aria's damp wrist. "That wasn't me not caring. That was me losing control."
Aria blinked. "You? Losing control?"
Selene gave a soft laugh. "I'm not made of ice, Aria. You—" she traced a line up Aria's arm, "—you melt through things. You don't even notice it, but you do."
Aria's breath hitched. "You always sound so sure of yourself."
"I am. Except when I'm around you."
Their eyes locked. Neither moved.
"Say it," Selene said quietly.
"Say what?"
"That last night meant something."
Aria's voice dropped to a whisper. "It did. It still does."
Selene exhaled slowly, almost like she'd been holding her breath this whole time. She moved even closer, their bodies brushing now, heat blooming between them like a second heartbeat.
"I didn't want to stop touching you," Selene murmured. "I wanted more."
Aria's lips parted. "So why did you?"
Selene looked down at her mouth. "Because you were trembling so hard, I thought you'd collapse. And I wanted you to remember it — not just survive it."
Aria made a soft sound, almost a laugh, but it caught in her throat. "You're awful."
Selene smiled. "And yet you're blushing again."
"Only because you keep saying things like that," Aria muttered.
"And you love it."
Aria didn't deny it. She couldn't. Instead, she closed the distance between them and pressed her forehead lightly to Selene's chest, listening to the steady beat there.
Selene didn't move. Her arms came around her slowly, securely, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The generator kept humming, and the cold still clung to the walls, but in that pocket of quiet — in the warmth of Selene's arms — Aria let herself be still.
Just for a minute.
Behind her, Selene moved with practiced efficiency, packing their gear with crisp, deliberate motions. Every now and then, her gaze lingered on Aria — not with affection, but with a controlled intensity that sent shivers down Aria's spine.
"You always this flushed in the cold?" Selene's voice cut through the silence, smooth and teasing.
Aria didn't turn around. "It's the water."
"Mhm." The sound of a zipper sliding closed. "Right. Just the water."
Aria dared a glance over her shoulder — and froze.
Selene was watching her. Not with humor, but with a stillness that felt glacial. Controlled. Dangerous. Focused.
Then the look was gone. Selene slung her bag over one shoulder, her posture shifting back into something sharp and ready.
"Let's move."
Aria nodded, her heart pounding. They stepped out into the pale light, their boots crunching on ash - laced pavement. The world had thawed slightly under dawn, but the silence between them crackled with tension.
It wasn't awkward. It was loaded. Heavy. Like ice cracking underfoot — delicate, treacherous, waiting to give way.
Then Selene stopped mid - step.
Her fingers lifted — flat, precise.
Aria halted.
Selene's head tilted, her breath fogging faintly in the air. "Something's wrong."
Without warning, she yanked Aria behind a rusted van, crouching low near a splintered checkpoint. Aria followed, her pulse quickening.
Down the road, six men approached in a lazy stagger. They didn't wear uniforms. Their armor was scavenged — patched leather, mismatched gear. Their rifles swung too loosely. One man stood ahead of the others, his grin wide, easy. A faded American flag patch clung to his shoulder, stiff with dried blood.
"Hey!" he called out. "You two headed north? There's a safe zone. Food. Shelter. We've got real heat — don't need to freeze out here."
Aria hesitated.
He looked normal. Friendly, even. His tone was casual, disarming. He didn't raise his weapon. His eyes didn't narrow.
But Selene's fingers locked tight around Aria's wrist. Her skin was cold — unnaturally so. As if her affinity had surged beneath her gloves without warning.
"No," she said, flat and final.
Aria turned to her, confused.
"He doesn't look —"
"They never do."
Selene's voice was all frost. No room for warmth.
"They're hunters. Scavengers. They smile, then they steal. They take the body first. Then what's left. Women go in smiling. They don't come back out."
Aria felt her breath catch.
The man kept walking, his grin intact. "C'mon. It's safe. You don't have to do this alone."
Selene's voice lowered to a near - silent whisper. "When I move — follow. No questions."
She slipped into the shadows behind a burned-out truck, guiding Aria with her. They crept low, weaving through twisted metal and weeds slick with frost. The air sharpened, the quiet between their steps razor-thin.
Behind them, the voices grew louder.
"Where are you going?! We said it's safe!"
Gunmetal clinked. Footsteps quickened.
But Selene didn't look back. Her stride never faltered. She led them off - road into a trail half-eaten by winter, thorned branches clawing at their jackets. The forest beyond was denser, bitter. Aria swore she saw her breath again — though it wasn't that cold.
Just Selene.
Always colder when she was focused.
The trees opened into a clearing, and ahead loomed the ruin of a gated complex.
Miller's Meat Processing Plant.
Its sign creaked in the breeze, half - frozen, half - rusted.
Selene forced open a side door. The air inside was colder than the wind. The hum of the generator grew louder, steadier — its thrum a pulse of life within bone - deep chill.
They stepped into the back hallway. The cold didn't dissipate — it deepened. Refrigerated rooms still functioned, powered just enough to preserve sealed meats and protein goods in long - forgotten storage.
Aria exhaled slowly, watching the air fog between them.
"This is huge."
Selene nodded. "We don't stay long."
But Aria didn't move just yet. Her eyes lingered on the freezer doors — frost - kissed and humming. There was a weight here. Not just cold, but memory.
Then quietly, she asked, "What would've happened if I'd answered him?"
Selene didn't respond right away.
She just looked at her. And this time, the cold in her expression wasn't distant. It was personal.
"They would've smiled," she said. "And you'd be dead by nightfall."
A beat passed.
"Or worse."
Aria's voice was barely a breath. "You've seen it?"
Selene's jaw tightened. Her breath fogged between them, slow and controlled.
"I've lived it."
That ended the conversation.
They worked together in silence — gathering supplies, sealing them into Aria's dimensional storage. Selene's hands moved quickly, but her mind was elsewhere. Aria could feel it. Like storm clouds gathering on the inside.
Once, when Selene passed close, their arms brushed — and her fingers lingered.
Just a moment too long.
This time, Aria didn't move away.
Didn't speak.
Didn't need to.
Outside, the ash fell softly again. But inside that frozen quiet, something stirred beneath the cold. Something neither of them could name yet.
A warning sign.
Or something just beginning to thaw.