Chapter 576: To See a Pseudo-Sibling as a Woman

I possess the abilities required for clean work, the skills honed over years of practice.

And I own a magical crossbow accurate enough for the task, a weapon that has never failed me before.

Between the three of us, I am the one best suited to carry out the assassination, and the one most capable of doing what needs to be done.

We can't afford to get even within a hundred meters of Heka.

She's too dangerous, almost a force of nature.

However, I can shoot and kill whatever I can see, no matter the distance.

Though… I still feel bad for her girlfriend. Such an innocent soul caught in this crossfire…

I know.

I'll use a non-lethal arrow tipped with a poison that will only make her appear dead for a while, simulating it without the permanence.

I will aim for a part of the body that isn't vital, a shoulder or a limb, something that might bleed but not kill her.

That is the full extent of the mercy I can offer, and I believe it is enough. At least, sufficient to satisfy my conscience.

It is still far better than allowing Tavi to attempt the strike himself and get caught by the tree-class monster that is Heka.

That outcome would be gruesome beyond description, a slaughter that would haunt me forever.

Now, I suppose I should send my brother away and try to make a real advance on Tavi, while the sadness is still raw in him, and his defenses are down.

***

"I suppose it is settled, then. The plan is decided." Janin gave a short nod and started toward the door, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor.

Eve felt a quiet surge of relief as he moved, a tension she hadn't realized she was holding releasing from her shoulders.

"We will strike this night, under the cover of darkness. If they are friends with Eric, they might visit the bathhouse to relax. We'll stalk them from the mountains and track their movements. With Eve's ability, she can do the deed from that distance where she cannot be seen. I'll be back once I've gathered what we need."

The door closed behind him with a soft click, the sound echoing in the sudden silence of the room.

Octavius remained where he was, watching the empty space Janin had left, his gaze fixed on the door. His shoulders dropped, the tension bleeding out of his posture.

The earlier fire of rage drained out of him, leaving only a heavy, inward sadness, a weight that pressed down on him. His head lowered, his chin dropping toward his chest.

"What is the matter, Tavi? What troubles you so deeply?" Eve moved quickly.

She had already slipped off the dark cloak, revealing the sheer, sleeveless black top beneath, the fabric clinging to her slender form.

Moving in closer, she wrapped her arms around him from the side, pressing her body lightly against his, offering comfort through proximity.

"You are supposed to be glad we're all in this together, that we're standing by your side. Why do you look defeated?"

Octavius's face tightened with pain, his features contorting with inner turmoil. He squinted as though the words themselves hurt, as if they cut deeper than any blade.

"That's… that is the point, the very thing that troubles me. I am causing you both problems again, dragging you into my mess. Every time, I cause problems, and you all support me regardless of the situation. I don't think it is fair to either of you."

Eve lifted one hand and cupped his cheek, gently turning his face toward her, her palm warm against his skin. She drew him closer until his head rested against the soft press of her chest, her heartbeat steady beneath his ear.

"Do not see it that way, do not view yourself as a burden. We both love you, Tavi. That is why we go so far, and why we would follow you anywhere."

She shifted so they faced each other fully, her body turning to meet his. Their eyes met and held—hers dark and steady, his still red-rimmed and uncertain, searching her face for something.

"Ever since you saved me and my brother from that hell-rat and got hurt for our sake, we decided to be your shadows until death. No… even after death, we will remain by your side."

As the last words left her mouth she leaned in, bringing her lips closer to his in a slow, deliberate approach, her eyes never leaving his.

The distance between them shrank until their breath mingled, warm and shared. Octavius's own lips parted slightly, trembling as though he might close the final gap and bridge the space between them.

Then he stopped, freezing in place.

His hands rose and gently but firmly pushed her back by the shoulders, creating distance between them.

"C'mon, Eve… don't do that, don't make this complicated." He shook his head once, as if clearing away a dream, a fleeting fantasy. "You're practically a sister to me, like family."

Eve froze, her body going still, her breath catching in her throat.

For several long seconds she simply stared past him toward the empty bed, as though the wooden frame might offer some new answer she had never found before, some solution to the puzzle of his heart.

[This again…? What more do I have to do to make him see me, to see me as a woman rather than a sibling…?]

The familiar exhaustion settled over her—the same quiet defeat she had carried since she was a little girl, every time the same rejection arrived in a different shape, a different form of the same pain.

She began to draw back, already preparing to give the usual soft apology and the familiar words of retreat.

But a hand closed around her wrist before she could fully retreat, stopping her in place.

"Actually… forget what I said, forget what I just told you." Octavius's voice was different now—lower, rougher, with a rhythm of something new.

He pulled the shocked Eve forward until their bodies met again, closer than before, his hand firm on her wrist.

"What should we do now, Eve? What do you want?"

Color flooded Eve's face in a sudden, bright wave, spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. Her eyes darted left and right, unable to settle, before something bolder rose inside her.

She lowered her gaze to her own fingers and began to twist them together, a nervous habit.

"C… Can we… have sex…?" she muttered, the words almost too quiet to hear, barely a whisper.

Then panic flickered across her features and she tried to retreat and take it back. "Actually, that was a joke. Don't take it seriously, forget I said anything."

Octavius did not give her the chance to finish the withdrawal, to escape into embarrassment.

His hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers threading through her dark hair.

He closed the remaining distance in one smooth motion and brought his mouth to hers, claiming her lips in a kiss.

The kiss was slow at first—careful and testing—then deepened as he tilted his head and pressed more firmly, his lips moving against hers.

His lips moved against hers with growing certainty, warm and insistent, learning the shape of her.

Eve's breath caught; her hands rose almost on their own and settled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palms.

The sheer fabric of her top did little to separate the heat of their bodies, the warmth passing between them.

When his tongue brushed the seam of her lips she opened for him, and the kiss turned fuller, wetter, with years of unspoken tension in the way their mouths met and parted and met again, a conversation without words.