Xavier lay on his back, staring up at the pale moon cutting through the gaps in the dead branches above. The air was cold now, carrying that damp forest smell—wet stone, ash, and something old. Their clothes were tossed over them like makeshift blankets, still warm from their bodies, and Reva's head rested against his chest, her breathing soft and slow.

For a long time, neither of them said anything. Just the whisper of leaves. The kind of silence that didn't ask to be broken. Then Reva tilted her head a little, her voice low and rough with exhaustion. "You know… this kinda reminds me of that night at your village."

Xavier glanced down at her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah? The one where you almost got us caught because of your loud moans?"

She chuckled quietly. "That one too. But I meant before that—when we just lay outside, watching the stars. You had that same stupid look on your face."

He huffed. "Guess some habits don't die." He turned his gaze back to the sky. "Is that why you brought me here to this place? So we can reminisce together?"

Reva was quiet for a second. Then she exhaled slowly. "Sort of." Her tone shifted—softer, heavier. "This used to be a vampire colony… before the war. My kind lived here long before the city expansion came up." She ran her fingers along the dirt absently. "Humans burned it down one night. Said it was 'cleansing.' Most of them didn't even make it out."

Xavier's eyes flicked to the cracked pillars around them—the charred stones, the blackened carvings, the faint smell of smoke that never really left. "You were here?"

She nodded slightly. "I was a kid. Don't remember much. Just fire. Screams. My mother trying to hide me under the floorboards." Her voice wavered for a moment but steadied again. "She didn't make it out. I did."

He didn't say anything right away. Just reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin. The silence stretched again, this time quieter, heavier. The kind that said everything without a single damn word.

Reva looked up at him, eyes catching the moonlight. "So yeah," she whispered, "maybe I brought you here because it's the only place that ever made me feel human again."

Xavier stared at her for a long moment, then sighed through his nose, pulling her closer until her head was back on his chest. "Guess we're both ghosts then," he muttered.

Reva smiled faintly. "Maybe."

The night had that still, half-dead quiet again—just the faint rustle of leaves in the ruins. Xavier turned his head toward Reva, tracing the faint line that ran down her cheek, just barely catching the moonlight. It hadn't been there before. His brow tightened a little, that easy calm slipping off his face.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked quietly, his voice losing its edge of playfulness. "That scar. It wasn't there the last time I saw you."

Reva blinked once, caught off guard, then looked away. The silence stretched between them for a few seconds—too long to be casual. "It's nothing," she finally muttered, trying to sound light but failing. "Just a scratch. It's not serious."

Xavier's eyes stayed fixed on her, the frown settling in deeper. "You sure about that? 'Cause it hasn't healed." His tone was low, but the sharpness underneath was hard to miss. "You've had plenty of my blood. Should've been gone by now."

Reva stayed quiet, her jaw tightening a little. For a second, it looked like she wasn't going to answer. Then she sighed softly. "My father," she said. "He… slapped me. With aura."

Xavier's expression darkened immediately, the muscle in his jaw twitching. "Aura?" he repeated.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. So it'll take a while to heal. It'll be fine soon." She tried to smile, but it looked fragile, half-forced.

He studied her face in the dim light, the way she kept her eyes down, the way her voice softened on that last word. "Why'd he do it?" he asked, quieter this time.

Reva's gaze dropped to the dirt beside them. For a moment, her lips moved but no sound came out. Then, almost in a whisper, "Because I refused the official engagement ceremony. With Lucas."

Xavier sat up without a word, the dust clinging to his back as he reached for his pants. Reva hesitated for a moment before sitting up too, pulling her clothes close, trying to read his face while buttoning her shirt.

"What happened?" she asked, voice low but unsure. "You went all quiet again. If it's about that engagement crap, don't worry. I'm not gonna marry that idiot."

Xavier didn't answer right away. He slipped his jacket back on, ran a hand through his hair, and finally muttered, "It's not that. I thought you two were already engaged. The way they talk about it, it sounds official."

Reva frowned, shaking her head. "No. It's just what they announced. Some stupid deal between the Steins and the Blackwood Group. Nothing's actually happened yet."

Xavier looked at her for a moment—then said flatly, "Then you should go home and set it up."

Reva froze mid-motion, staring at him. "What?"

He didn't flinch. "Talk to your father. Tell him to make it happen as soon as possible."

Her brows knitted, confusion turning into disbelief. "You're joking, right? After what I just said?"

"I'm not," he said, tone calm but cold. "If there's a ceremony, Lucas will show up. That's when I'll get him."

Reva just stared at him, mouth half open, the realization slowly sinking in. "You… want me to actually go through with it?"

He shrugged, slipping his gloves on, his voice steady like it was nothing. "It's just an engagement. Nothing'll happen. You'll call it off later, or I guess… you won't need to. I just need him there and I will kill him."

Reva stared at him, searching his face for something—hesitation, doubt, anything—but there was nothing. Just that calm, detached look he always had before doing something dangerous.

"And what then?" she asked quietly. "After you kill him? You think the Blackwoods will just let it go?"

Xavier smirked faintly, tightening the strap on his wristband. "They won't have to. I've already got everything planned."

The way he said it sent a chill through her—not because of what he planned, but because of how certain he sounded. Like it wasn't revenge anymore. Like it was something he'd already accepted long before she even asked.

It was the bloodline effect Xavier always had it in him.