Dawn Walker

Chapter 249: 249: Questions and Answers V

Lily’s words did not leave the room. They stayed there, alive between them.

“I want to get infected. I want to be like you.”

Sekhmet stood there motionless for a long moment, as if his body had gone still only so his mind could collapse in peace.

Lily did not look embarrassed.

That was the worst part.

If she had laughed after saying it, he could have dismissed it as reckless emotion. If she had looked away with warm cheeks and twisting hands, he could have blamed impulse and waited for her courage to cool into sense. If she had softened the words at all, he could have dragged them both back to safer ground.

She did none of that.

She stood there with her chin slightly raised, her eyes fixed on his. She was calm enough to make the sentence far more dangerous than if she had shouted it.

Sekhmet finally found breath.

“No.”

The answer came hard. It was immediate. Too sharp to mistake for uncertainty.

Lily blinked once. “No?”

Sekhmet repeated, “No.”

The room went quiet again. Not the thoughtful quiet from before. This one had edges.

Lily’s face tightened in a way that told him she was not wounded yet. Only challenged.

“You answered very quickly.”

“I did not need time.”

“That is a lie.”

Sekhmet stared at her.

Lily crossed her arms slowly, not like a girl pouting, but like someone drawing a line on the floor with deliberate hands.

“You did need time,” she said. “You just answered before thinking because you panicked.”

“I did not panic.”

“You absolutely panicked.”

He almost laughed out of disbelief.

Instead he took two slow steps away from her and turned toward the window. The light coming through the curtains painted a pale stripe across the side of his face. He needed the distance. He needed something not alive in front of him. He needed a wall. A table. Glass. Anything that was not Lily offering him her throat and her future in the same breath.

Behind him, her voice came again, softer now, but no less firm.

“Look at me.”

He did not.

“Sekhmet.”

His hand braced once against the edge of the table. Then he turned.

She was still there. Still waiting. Still impossible.

“You are leaving soon,” he said.

Lily frowned. “What?”

“You will go back to your mother. Back to your house. Back to your life before this.”

Her expression sharpened. “There is no life before this anymore.”

“That is exactly the problem.”

“No. That is exactly why we are having this conversation.”

He watched her in silence.

Lily stepped closer.

“You told me what you are,” she said. “You told me what blood does to you. You told me what the auction was. You told me how dangerous it is.” Her eyes did not leave him. “And after all that, do you really think I am standing here speaking carelessly?”

Sekhmet’s jaw tightened.

“You are the city lord’s daughter,” he said. “You do not get to make a choice like this without understanding what follows it.”

Lily actually laughed once then, but there was almost no humor in it.

“You think I do not understand the consequences?” she asked. “Sekhmet, I was raised in a house where every smile at dinner has two meanings and every visit from a merchant or noble comes with hidden pressure attached. I know what the consequences are.”

“This is not one of those consequences.”

“No,” she said. “It is bigger. Which is why I am asking for it, not permission to be a child.”

That landed him hard. He hated how often she was capable of saying exactly the thing that made resistance feel clumsy.

He tried again anyway.

“You do not know what becoming like me would actually mean.”

“Then tell me.”

“I already did. You need to feed on living. That will change you. You might regret it.”

“No,” Lily said. “You told me enough to frighten me. You did not tell me enough to change my mind.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. Then looked away first, irritated with himself for doing it.

Lily saw that too.

“You turned the twins,” she said.

He stilled. There it was. The other blade.

“You changed Vera and Vela. They fight for you. They move for you. They answer your blood.” Lily’s voice lowered. “Why is it possible for them, but impossible for me?”

Sekhmet slowly turned back toward her.

“Do not compare yourself to them.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are not them.”

“That is not an answer.”

“That is enough for one.”

“No, it is not.”

The argument tightened between them like wire.

Lily stepped in another pace, forcing him to either retreat or stand. He stood.

“You made them yours,” she said.

His eyes darkened.

“Be careful.”

“No,” she said, and now there was heat in her voice too. “You be careful. I watched what happened. I asked questions. I listened. I know what I am saying. And now I am asking you something simple.” Her breath came a little faster. “If you can change them, why not me?”

Sekhmet looked at her and knew the answer too clearly to speak it safely. Because the twins had already stepped into the dark parts of his life.

Because they were already tangled in blood and danger and obedience.

Because with them, the decision had never felt like claiming the center of his own heart.

Because Lily was different. Dangerously different.

He spoke slowly.

“Because if I do this to you, it is not the same.”

Lily held his gaze. “Why?”

He exhaled slowly.

“Vera and Vela were already within the shape of my life,” he said. “Already under my protection. Already moving with me into danger. The bond did not drag them away from some other house, some other future, some other public identity that would collapse under scrutiny.”

Lily’s voice remained even, but her eyes sharpened further. “So the difference is politics.”

“The difference is the consequences.”