Chapter 190: Giselle’s Private Claim

Chapter 190: Chapter 190: Giselle’s Private Claim

Giselle’s gaze dropped to my hands on her waist, then lifted back to my face.

"What are you doing?"

"Returning the favour."

I didn’t remove them.

Her fingers had been publicly claiming the same place for the last several minutes.

The least I could do was match it.

A few of the nearest women noticed.

Whispers adjusted.

On the small raised podium at the far end of the gallery, Yelena stepped into the light.

The room quieted in layers until only the low hum of the chandelier fields remained.

"Everyone."

Her voice carried without effort.

"Thank you for attending this gathering. My daughter, Giselle, placed first in the academy intake examination and reminded every sector that we still carry what Delta left us last year."

Polite, precise applause.

It seemed like Sector ranking matters more in this world.

Giselle didn’t step forward to claim it.

She stayed exactly where she was, at my side.

I kept my left hand on her waist from behind, thumb resting against the curve of her hip.

The fragment under my ribs pulsed once, steady.

Yelena continued.

"This matters more than ranking lists. Dungeon appearances are increasing. The beasts inside have begun refusing to drop usable cores. Supports are developing independent thought instead of waiting for instruction."

Her eyes moved across the room and landed on me for a fraction of a second.

I leaned slightly toward Giselle.

"Why is she blaming me?"

"...Shut up."

Yelena’s voice filled the space again.

"We have only so many assets like Draven. He is here now to clear some of the pressure, but we cannot build a future that depends on men. They should rely on us. That means we give everything we have to the girls entering the academy this cycle. They will face the largest conflict any of us have seen."

The words began to blur at the edges.

I kept the correct posture and the correct neutral expression, but my mind slid sideways.

Jenna’s projected death date flashed behind my eyes: clean system text I had never asked to see.

Gianna was in Sector 7 without her support, training alone because I was standing in a ballroom being touchy with someone who hurt her.

Rei was almost certainly under her mother’s roof absorbing whatever new pressure Cecilia had prepared.

And I was here, hand on an Empress’s daughter, letting the room decide what I was.

When am I going to stop being moved around the board?

How long am I going to stay passive while everyone else sets the terms?

[Succubus Transformation — 4%]

The number sat at the edge of my vision, higher than the last time I had checked.

’What happens at one hundred?’

[...]

[Data restricted.]

Of course.

Yelena finished with another round of controlled applause.

The formal portion of the evening dissolved into smaller conversations.

Giselle’s shoulder brushed mine as she turned.

"We’re leaving."

I didn’t argue.

We cut through the crowd toward the private lifts.

Shen intercepted us near the edge of the open floor, wine glass still in hand, expression bright with residual entertainment.

"Leaving already?"

Giselle was immediately claimed by three women who needed a word with the night’s ranked first-place.

She gave me a short look that said stay visible and let herself be drawn two metres aside.

I used the space.

"Will you go to Sector 7?" I asked Shen.

His smile widened.

"You miss your girlfriends?"

"Tell them I am fine. And that I will come back."

"If I end up there, I will."

I tapped his chest once with a closed fist, light, not friendly, and stepped into the open elevator.

Giselle extracted herself with clinical efficiency and followed.

The doors sealed.

The sound of the ballroom dropped away.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

"That was your party," I said.

"Yes."

I turned.

She turned at the same time.

Her hand rose, fingers sliding into the hair at the back of my neck.

My hands found her waist again, no longer performing for an audience, and gripped harder.

There was no check for cameras, no half-second of hesitation, no internal debate about fragments or Empresses or the percentage ticking upward in my status.

I kissed her.

She met it without resistance.

The fragment under my ribs flared hot and then settled, as if something that had been misaligned all evening had briefly clicked into place.

If she wasn’t an established anchor before, she’s one now.

The Hunger surged and was ignored.

The tail stayed quiet.

There was only the heat of her mouth, the pressure of her fingers at my nape, and the elevator’s soft descending hum.

When we finally broke apart, the floor indicator was still moving.

Giselle’s red eyes were darker than they had been on the ballroom floor.

"You’re learning bad habits," she said quietly.

"You started it."

"I claimed you so the room would stop calculating how to take you home. That was strategy."

"And that?"

"That was me deciding strategy can wait until the doors open."

Giselle shoved me back against the elevator wall hard enough that the formal coat hit the panel with a dull thud.

Her mouth followed immediately: no testing, no political calculation.

Just heat.

Her tongue pushed into my mouth the same way it had in the interrogation room, only this time there was nothing she needed to take from me except the contact itself.

I let her have two seconds of control.

Then I turned us.

Her back met the opposite wall.

I hooked my right hand under her thigh and lifted, settling my hips into the space I created.

The sea-glass gown slid up her leg.

Formal trousers did nothing to hide how hard I already was.

I rolled my hips once, slow and deliberate, dragging against the soft heat between her legs.

Giselle’s breath broke against my mouth.

"...You’re pushing it."

"You started this in front of half the sector."

"That was work."

"This is me answering it."

I kissed her again, deeper, and rolled my hips a second time.

The friction pulled a low sound out of her throat that the Hunger catalogued with immediate interest

Giselle’s fingers dug into the back of my neck.

"The doors open in four floors."

"Then stop kissing me like you have all night."

She didn’t stop.