she leaned in, close enough for her breath to graze his lips,"…you don't need to ask."
That did it.
Icarus surged forward, cupping the back of her head, kissing her again like he was starved for it. Like she was the last warmth in a world made of shadows. This kiss wasn't playful. It was raw. Deep. Honest. Their bodies pressed close, and she could feel the pounding of his heart beneath her palm, like it wanted to escape his chest.
She tugged at his collar, and he groaned softly against her lips, trying — failing — to hold back.
"Aria," he whispered her name like a prayer, forehead resting against hers. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."
"Oh," she teased, breathless and flushed, "I do."
He grinned, dizzy and wrecked. But then—
BANG.
A sudden thud echoed through the chamber, making Aria jump. A thick book had fallen from the shelf all on its own. She stared at it, wide-eyed.
Icarus, however, just groaned. Clearly annoyed.
Aria bent down and opened the book. As she flipped to the center, fresh red ink began bleeding across the parchment, curling into angry words:
"Get your hands off my great-granddaughter, you damn wizard."
Icarus barked out a laugh. "Then give her what she's asking for yourself, old man."
The ink stuttered, stopped. As if whoever was writing it had no comeback — or no permission to respond.
Aria's eyes widened. "Wait… is that really my great-grandfather? But how is he doing this?"
Icarus folded his arms and leaned against the table. "It's not him exactly. It's his familiar."
"Familiar?" Aria blinked. "You mean like… a magical companion?"
Icarus nodded. "Yeah. And Raelin Vortemar didn't settle for birds or wolves. That man was eccentric. Brilliant. He bound his soul's whisper to something a little more… subtle."
Just then, the book trembled — its leather cover bubbling like liquid — and with a soft pop, it shifted and shrunk into a sleek, black fluffy cat.
"Woah…" Aria breathed, immediately scooping it up. "You're so pretty!"
The cat purred in her arms like it had been waiting centuries for her. But when its eyes flicked up to Icarus, it hissed and raised a paw, unsheathing its claws in a clear warning.
"Old man, get down," Icarus muttered.
Cat completely ignored him and purred again.
"So.. are you going to tell me more about the Saintess now?" Aria asked softly.
The room fell into stillness again. Cat gets down and just before vanishing into shadow, it turned its head — yellow eyes locking with Aria's one last time — then disappeared.
"I guess that's a no," Aria muttered, brushing her hair behind her ear.
Icarus sighed and walked over, resting his chin on her shoulder from behind. "You won't get the truth that easily. That cat is bound by rules too."
Aria's brow furrowed. "But it knew something. It hesitated when I asked."
"That's because it remembers," Icarus said. "Familiar spirits don't just serve. They witness. And when they're tied to someone like Raelin Vortemar... they carry pieces of the past that were too painful to be written."
He stepped away from her and pressed his hand against a weathered emblem carved into the wall — a faded sun, its rays fractured across the stone.
With a soft click, a hidden drawer slid open beneath the records table.
"This belonged to a knight," Icarus murmured, his eyes narrowing as he examined the broken brooch in Aria's palm.
Aria's fingers traced the chipped metal edges. "But… why would Great-Grandpa have something like this? Knight insignia wasn't his thing."
Icarus raised an eyebrow, amused. "I thought you were smart, Aria. Think again. If you do, it'll start to make sense."
Aria frowned, but her thoughts were fuzzy. It was always like this around Icarus — her mind spun in circles, especially when he was this close. Her eyes flicked to him, noticing the subtle smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.
Icarus suddenly pulled out a handkerchief and started wiping her hands gently, his touch unusually tender.
"What… what are you doing?" Aria asked, puzzled.
"Just…" He paused, then sighed. "Nothing important."
But his gaze turned serious, shifting toward the door.
"He's coming."
Before Aria could ask who, the door creaked open — a gust of cold air trailing in behind the figure who stepped through.
Abigel.
He stood there in silence, his eyes sweeping over the room — and landing on Aria sitting close beside Icarus, the remnants of a broken knight's brooch in her hands and Icarus' handkerchief wrapped around her fingers.
The moment stretched.
Icarus didn't move.
Aria held her breath.
Abigel's eyes locked with Icarus' in a silent exchange — something unreadable passing between them. A storm without thunder.
Then, quietly, Abigel stepped forward, his tone clipped. "What did you find?"
Aria, trying to keep the tension from choking her, held out the brooch. "It was in the drawer behind the crest. I think it's… connected to the Saintess. Or the knight who tried to save her."
Abigel took it carefully, his gloved hands brushing hers. "This emblem…" he muttered, frowning. "It belonged to the Order of the Flame — an ancient sect disbanded after the Saintess's death."
"They were her protectors," Icarus added.
"You've been with her too long," Abigel said, voice calm but clipped.
His eyes didn't miss a thing — Icarus' shirt was half-unbuttoned, his glasses missing, and a fresh bite mark lingered on his Adam's apple. Aria wasn't any better. Her lips were swollen, her dress slipping slightly off one shoulder, skin dusted with flushed marks and faint bruises. There was no denying what had happened.
Abigel stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he gently adjusted her dress back over her shoulder — a simple gesture, but his fingers lingered a second too long, jaw clenched.
When he turned back to Icarus, the air shifted. Icarus only smiled — the kind of slow, wicked grin that said "I won."
"Alright, that's enough!" Aria said suddenly, stepping between them before the silence turned sharp.
She hadn't realised how close they stood — Icarus' hand slid around her waist to pull her toward him, and in the same breath, Abigel's fingers wrapped around her wrist, tugging her back.
"Ahhhh! Stop pulling me!" Aria cried out, glaring at both of them.
The tension cracked like a whip. Both men let go — not because they wanted to, but because her voice left no room for protest.
The space between them suddenly felt cold. Empty.
And maybe… a little too quiet.
Without saying a word, Aria turned on her heel and strode out of the room. Fast. Determined.
Both men glared at each other for a long moment.
Were they possessive? Yes.Jealous? Absolutely.But did they want to make things harder for Aria?...No.
So in the end, neither of them said a word.
Abigel finally broke the silence. "So… can you give us some time?" he asked, voice low but steady. "I just started to open up to her. So can you not come in the middle?"
Icarus tilted his head, that signature smirk playing on his lips. "Don't you know? One of us is always going to be in the middle… in every kind of situation."
Cheeky.Clearly, a kissing session had made him bold.
"I won't let that happen," Abigel muttered, though his voice faltered slightly.
"Alright then." Icarus's grin widened, clearly unbothered. He was practically glowing with satisfaction. After all, Aria had already said yes… He just needed to learn a few things now. Poor Abigel—he'd better catch up.
"I won't be around for a while," Icarus added, stepping back. "So use that time wisely. I've got something new to study."
And just like that, he vanished—leaving only a shimmering trail of purple aura behind him.
The silence that followed was cold, heavy.
"Something is not right, master…" murmured a voice from the shadow.