The second night in Oakhaven didn't arrive; it loomed. By sunset, the sky wasn't dark but a bruised, heavy purple, and the pink mist from the square had become so thick it felt like walking through water.
Inside the inn, the walls seemed to sweat. Jessica lay on her back, staring at the rafters. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Merek. Not the knight, but the man—the warmth of his skin, the weight of his gaze, the way his voice dropped when he spoke to her. The "Hum" from the fountain was a physical pulse now, a rhythmic throb that synchronized with her heartbeat until she couldn't tell where the town ended and she began.
Beside her, Marin was a statue of iron. She was still sitting up, her eyes fixed on the door, but her breathing was ragged. She was fighting a war against the very air she breathed.
A soft, muffled sound drifted through the wall from Merek’s room—a low, pained groan that made Jessica’s entire body stiffen.
"He’s struggling," Jessica whispered, her voice trembling.
"We’re all struggling," Marin replied, her voice sounding like gravel. "Don't listen to it, Jessica. It’s not him. It’s the artifact."
But Jessica’s body didn't care about logic anymore. The heat in her belly had turned into a searing, insistent ache. She shifted beneath the covers, her skin oversensitive to the point of pain. Every movement of the fabric against her felt like a spark.
Her hand moved of its own accord. She slipped it beneath the waistband of her panties, her fingers finding her already damp and swollen. A sharp, dizzying jolt of pleasure shot through her the moment she touched herself, forcing a stifled cry against her pillow.
"Jessica?" Marin turned, her eyes wide with alarm in the dim light.
"I... I can't..." Jessica gasped, her hips arching off the bed. She wasn't just thinking of Merek anymore; she was feeling him. The artifact was weaving their desires together, turning her own hand into a proxy for his.
Marin froze, her heart hammering against her breastplate. She could hear the rhythmic rustle of the sheets, the shallow, desperate hitches in Jessica’s breath. She realized with a jolt of terror that the "First Signs" were over. The artifact had its hooks in her friend’s soul.
Quietly, with trembling hands, Marin reached into her satchel. She pulled out the small, carved wooden bird Elsa had given her for emergencies.
"Elsa," Marin whispered into the bird’s wings, her voice cracking. "The Eros Node is at critical mass. Jessica and Merek are losing themselves. I don't know how much longer I can hold the line. Please... tell me how to break the cycle."
She tapped the bird, watching it shimmer into a streak of light and vanish through the window toward the horizon.
Meanwhile, Jessica was lost. Her movements grew more frantic, her whispers of Merek’s name becoming a soft, rhythmic chant. She wasn't the "Genius" anymore. She was a woman drowning in a sea of pink mist, her fingers working desperately to find a release that the artifact kept just out of reach, fueling the fire instead of putting it out.
Outside, half the town’s residents were now moving in the streets, their eyes glowing a brilliant, terrifying magenta. They weren't speaking; they were breathing in unison, a collective heartbeat that pulsed in time with the flickering light of the fountain.
The second night was claiming them, and as Jessica finally collapsed into a fitful, sweat-soaked sleep, her mind was a blur of silver hair and amber eyes. She knew, in the small part of her that was still herself, that the third night would be the end.
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