BLEEDING VELVET

"When the devil loves you, he doesn't wait to be let in—he builds a home in your bones."

There was something wrong with the moon that night.

It hung low and red, bloated like it had swallowed all the secrets the stars were too afraid to keep. Almond felt it deep in her chest—the hum of magic, grief, and something ancient stirring inside her blood like it was waking up after centuries of sleep.

She was no longer just haunted.

She was becoming the haunting.

Velda came uninvited.

Of course she did.

She appeared at the window like a wraith in silk, her eyes wide and unblinking, hair flowing like smoke, voice laced with that eerie calm that always came before something terrible.

"You slept with him again," Velda said flatly.

Almond didn't answer. Just dragged a match across her wrist to light the candle. Flame burst. Shadows danced.

"I warned you," Velda continued, stepping into the room. "You let him in and now he's never leaving."

Almond blew out the match. "He never left."

"That's the problem."

They stood in silence.

Two witches. Two scars. Too much between them to ever be friends again, but not enough distance to be enemies.

"I should kill him," Velda said.

"I should let you," Almond replied.

"But?"

"I want to kill him first."

Velda smirked like she understood.

"Love turns us all into murderers eventually."

Later, when Aren returned, he didn't come through the door.

He appeared—in the space between shadows, stepping out of thin air like a demon summoned by lust and regret.

His eyes glowed brighter now.

The possession was growing.

"You weren't supposed to let her in," he rasped, voice layered with something not him. Something older. Darker.

Almond's breath hitched.

"You're not supposed to be this far gone."

He smiled.

"I warned you, remember? The deeper you go, the less of me comes back."

She crossed her arms, trying to hide the trembling.

"Then let me go instead."

That's when the room changed.

The air thickened.

The floor groaned.

And Aren—no, whatever wore his face—crossed the room in a blur, grabbing Almond's chin, holding her gaze with a look that was equal parts hunger and sorrow.

"I can't," he whispered. "You're the only tether I have left."

"Then we're both doomed."

He kissed her like a drowning man.

But this time, there was blood.

His lips were split. Her tongue tasted iron. And in the space between their mouths, power sparked—wild, ancient, and chaotic.

Their magic collided.

Fused.

Exploded.

And for a moment, the entire room pulsed with the sound of something shattering—a soul, a seal, a timeline?

Neither of them knew.

But Almond staggered back, nose bleeding, eyes glowing faintly with magic not her own.

"What did you do?" she asked, breathless.

Aren knelt on the floor, clutching his chest like something sacred had been ripped from him.

"I think... I think you broke the curse."

She blinked.

"No," she said softly, staring at her own trembling hands. "I think I absorbed it."

Outside, the moon cracked.

And the devil smiled.

Because the girl he once loved had just become his greatest weapon.

Almond didn't sleep that night.

How could she?

There was a war going on inside her body—his curse, her blood, and something older that didn't yet have a name. Her skin itched like it was shedding. Her ribs ached like wings were trying to force their way out. Her mouth tasted like burned herbs and heartbreak.

Velda had vanished, again. Typical.

And Aren—whatever was left of him—was curled up at the corner of the bed, looking like a man who'd survived drowning but hadn't quite made it back to shore.

"Are you still in there?" Almond asked, voice low, unsure if she even wanted an answer.

He looked up. Slowly. Hollow eyes. A tired smile.

"Parts of me," he said. "Enough to still want you."

"That's not comforting."

"I wasn't trying to comfort you."

She scoffed and turned her back to him. But her heart still thudded too fast. Not from fear. Not anymore. It was something worse: attachment.

She hated herself for it.

Dawn came like a punishment—grey, quiet, and full of consequences.

They walked through the abandoned city, silent shadows in a place that once thrummed with noise. The streets whispered old names. The wind carried voices that weren't theirs.

Ghosts of the past... or maybe just echoes of futures that would never come.

"Where are we going?" Aren asked eventually.

"To the graveyard."

"Who are we burying?"

She gave him a side glance. "Me. You. Us. Take your pick."

The graveyard was overgrown and restless.

Witches weren't supposed to bury their dead. They were supposed to bind them—to earth, to fire, to bloodline. But Almond wasn't following the rules anymore.

She knelt by an empty patch of land and started digging with her bare hands.

Aren just watched her. Silent. Suffering.

"What are you doing?" he asked after a while.

She didn't look up. "Making room."

"For what?"

"For the part of me that still loved you."

She found bone under the dirt.

Not hers. Not his. But someone's.

She didn't stop digging.

By nightfall, she had carved out a hole deep enough to bury the past.

She stood over it, dirt under her nails, tears dried on her cheeks, a thin cut across her lip from a branch that hadn't wanted to move.

Aren stepped forward. Reached for her.

She stepped back.

"This is where it ends," she said.

"No," he said. "This is where we begin."

She shook her head, laughing bitterly.

"You think what's left of you is enough to love what's left of me?"

A pause.

Then he said, "I don't love what's left of you."

She flinched.

"I love what broke you."

Boom.

The line landed like a blade to the chest. But instead of hurting her, it peeled something off—layers of pity, denial, and the fragile lie that this was ever going to be soft.

It wasn't.

It never would be.

They weren't the type to hold hands in sunlight. They were the ones that danced in the dark, kissed with blood in their mouths, and wrote promises in spells, not ink.

She stepped into his space. Pressed her palm to his chest.

His heart beat like war drums.

Then she whispered—

"Then let's build a kingdom from what we buried."