her only salvation

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I should've stayed with Macy but the moment I caught Wren walking away from the Fayed siblings, I couldn't help but follow right behind. My feet moved on their own and now I stood before her while staring right into her soft blue eyes that had widened with surprise. Those scarlet-painted lips parted ever so slightly and I felt my throat constricting at the surfacing desire to push her up against the wall beside and drive her senseless with all of me. Every emotion that I felt was rioting within my chest but I tried my hardest to repress my urge and remain collected in front of her. 

"Can I pass?" she asked, almost timidly. Her voice was mellow and soft in a feminine way that felt foreign but irresistibly tantalising to me. Though, what concerned me the most was the insecurity and fear that was emitting within her aura — as though she wasn't comfortable being her true self in front of me. It irked me, even when I understood that she had no knowledge that her true identity was known to me and her reaction was only natural. 

Instead of letting her go, I decided to stall her by returning another question, "I haven't seen you around before. If it's not rude of me, can I have your name?" 

I wanted to spend more time with her. I wanted to admire her a little longer and torture myself with the fact that if it weren't for our crossed paths, she wouldn't have been uncomfortable being herself — the self that she was all dolled up and beautiful. It was as though my question had taken her aback, I caught a slight flinch in her eyes as her chest rose when she caught a small inhale. Nervousness apparent in her voice, she murmured, "Antheia Elsher." 

"Lovely name," I complimented with a small smile as I extended a hand towards her and introduced myself, "Aillard Illiades. Can I get to know you better?" 

A soft blush rose immediately against the pale of her skin, effortlessly making her much more attractive than she already was. Wren was hesitant to give me her hand but still did eventually. The simple gesture and the warmth of her skin against mine already calmed my pounding heart with relief that she hadn't rejected me. She turned her head slightly from side to side as though looking at her surroundings and mentioned quietly, "I'm sure this would be an awkward place to get to know you." 

"Indeed," I laughed. "Would you like to leave this place with me?" 

There, Wren hesitated again and I witnessed her internal conflicts through the complicated mix of emotions tussling within her blue eyes. She bit on her lower lip as she thought hard about my invitation and I had to force myself to look away to fight the desire of catching her softness between my teeth. Finally, she gave me a reply even when she sounded unsure, "I'll have to let my friends know." 

"Go ahead," I said. "I'll wait for you." 

Wren nodded and brushed past me, the light fragrance of her perfume lingered in the air. The familiar scent of ambrette and iris made me turn as I peered towards her back and sighed to myself. 

I know you too well to not recognise you at all, my little songbird.  

The phone in my pocket shuddered and I took it out to see that Macy had left me a few texts. 

I tapped a quick reply to her and leaned my back against the wall behind me. Closing my eyes momentarily, I knew I was making a foolish move with Wren but I wasn't letting the opportunity slip. To begin with, I wasn't a religious person but I could only wish for any existence up above to give me just a moment longer with her.

I am making a very grave mistake. 

The moment I was allowed to pass, I hurriedly strode towards Naya and Ismael. Seeing me returning in a hurry, they looked at me with worry in their expression and I swallowed nervously. I stammered, "I-I need to go—" 

"Where to, precious?" Ismael asked and Naya was eyeing me questioningly with the same curiosity. 

Unable to explain myself, I fumbled with all my words, "I-I, um—" 

"Aillard, is it?" Naya sighed and attempted to interpret my unfinished sentences. She continued, "I saw him walking in your direction when you left. But from your reaction, he didn't recognise you, did he?" 

I exhaled the breath that I was holding and my shoulders dropped at the piercing reminder that I was hiding behind a lie while stealing moments with him. Just when I thought it would've been a better decision to turn back around and reject him, Naya handed a card to me, "He wouldn't notice it's you, I've made a perfect excuse for Wren." 

"Naya," I frowned, feeling really unsure. 

"Don't think about anything else," Naya smiled. "Just follow your heart, darling." 

Beside her, Ismael also gave a firm nod of reassurance. No longer hesitating, I mouthed my thanks and hurried back to Aillard. Just one more time. I whispered a prayer under my breath, wishing for one more moment and memory with him — even when I wasn't appearing in front of him as Wren Ashenherst, but someone else entirely. 

I was in all sorts of a hurry until I caught sight of him and my legs failed to heed to my command any longer. Standing at a distance, my gaze fell onto the few falling tendrils of his short hair and my sight traced against all the sharp, sculpted features of his face.

Aillard had his attention on his phone while leaning his back against the wall, appearing casual and laid back as usual. Yet, there was something about his languid demeanour that one must not mistake him as harmless. This man was an adept predator and his brutality was carefully masqueraded underneath his impassivity, always an intelligent attempt for his enemies fall into their own foolish trap of underestimation. Dangerous as I knew him to be, I felt myself falling deep into his trap.

He must've felt my gaze because he lifted his gaze and those speckled grey eyes met mine. The silver in his irises shone in anticipation when he eyed me with a yearning that reflected my own but I failed to understand. Standing before him in my current appearance, I wondered if he would also show the same keenness if he knew who I was and a sudden pain darted through my chest when my heart clenched.

When will I ever escape this elaborate cage that held me captive since the day I was brought into the Illiades? Or will I simply submit to my own death within the gentle hands of this cruel man? 

Taking my hand into his, he walked us out of the banquet hall and we entered the lift together. I stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and my skin tingled upon his bare touch on the small of my back. In a polite tone, he asked, "Do you have any place in mind?" 

Closing my eyes, I inhaled a breath and gathered the courage to punch the lift button to the highest floor. There wasn't anyone else in the lift and relying on all the bravery in me, I stepped in front of him and pulled on his tie, bringing his lips to mine. My body moved in a commanding manner to trap him into the corner of the lift as I ravished the fullness of those lips. Taken by surprise, he remained unmoved for a slight moment but recovered in the next second to hold me towards him. 

Aillard responded to my advance with a fierce amount of desire and want but his fingers traced against my jaw and neck with another kind of tenderness. Rasping into the air between our lips, he asked, "Are you trying to drive me insane, angel?" 

I didn't respond, only because my mind was hazed with everything except for words and the thin breath that separated us was laden with the heat of our carnal longing. Things escalated headily and when the lift door opened, I pulled on the lapels of his charcoaled dark suit and stumbled towards the end of the hallway without breaking our fervent kiss. Aillard supported me with his strong arms and it was frightening how much I trusted him to not let me fall. Just before I tap the card on the reader, I asked breathlessly, "Do you want to do this with me?" 

"I should be the one asking the question," he exhaled a small laugh that caused my heart to tremble at the perfect sound of it. 

"Do you?" I asked again, wanting an answer almost desperately. 

He looked straight into my eyes and spoke softly, "If you have any reservations, we can stop this right now. It's not in my intention to hurt you, angel." 

Recollection: Fifteen years ago. 
Wren | 7, Aillard | 12

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"Wren," Dad warned. "Boys don't cry." 

I bit on my lower lip as my small body trembled at the pain that I felt. Dad gently rubbed medication on the bruises on my body as I held onto the tears that I desperately tried to trap in my eyes. Dad was very careful, minimising the hurt as much as possible when he tended to me. When he was done, he raked a hand through my hair as he sighed, "I know it hurts, Wren. But the pain is only temporary and you'll become stronger than this." 

I nodded obediently as Dad wrapped his arms around me and I knew that whenever I was injured, it hurt him more than it would ever hurt me. Mindful about all the painful bruises, he placed me on the bed and tucked me under the blanket. Dad leaned forward to press a tender kiss on my forehead as he said in a low voice, "Go to sleep, my child." 

I watched as he walked out of the room. Dad's back looked sad, remorseful and weighed down by emotions that my young self couldn't comprehend. Even when life was tough in the Illiades, there was no resentment I held towards him. In this cruel twist of life, Dad had shown me kindness and warmth, even when he was just being cruel to teach me that life would be much more ruthless. 

Staring at the ceiling and feeling all the ache on my body from the strenuous training, I reminded myself that I would be stronger but the overwhelming sadness still surfaced. I sniffled and cried while remembering the helplessness, weariness and pain. I was too preoccupied with my own emotions to realise that someone had entered my room. The warmth of a hand landed on my arm and a soft voice called out to me, "Wren." 

Shocked, I raised my other arm and wiped my tears hastily with the back of my hand. Directing my attention towards the voice, a small gasp escaped from me, "Aillard." 

As though he could feel my pain, his eyes were also watered with tears and he looked at me, asking, "Can I stay here with you?" 

"Why did you want to stay here? There's nothing here, Aillard," I said in a slightly croaky tone, looking around at my almost empty room and wondering why the heir would prefer this shabby space than his own luxurious room. 

"You're here, silly," Aillard said, holding my arm up as he looked towards all the patches of bruise that covered my limbs. In a tone filled with remorse, he asked, "It must've hurt very badly, right?" 

My lips pulled into an inevitable frown as I felt myself losing my restraint to hold my urge to cry. Beside me, Aillard climbed into my bed and went underneath the sheets with me. Pulling me close to him, he patted on my back and comforted, "You can cry, Wren. It's okay to cry because I won't tell anyone about it and your secret's always safe with me." 

In this arms, in his warmth, I cried tears that I wasn't allowed to cry and he stayed without a word but with tender understanding. That moment forward, this boy had unknowingly took root in a special place in my heart. 

"Take me, if you would," I murmured, tapping the card on the reader before I folded my arms tightly around his neck. I breathed into him as though he was my lifeline — my only salvation to save my melancholic soul from disintegrating into ruins. 

Because Aillard Illiades, I love you with the whole of me that I'm no longer sure what's left of myself. 

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a/n: 

have you ever loved someone who gave you butterflies and adrenaline highs?