Rewind five minutes.

Adele had just opened the door to welcome Dorothy. But instead of a warm greeting, Dorothy had opted for a more… intimate approach.

She nuzzled Adele’s neck, her fangs grazing the delicate skin, inhaling deeply.

The scent of books. Adele had been reading today.

Dorothy wasn’t fond of reading herself, but she found the image of Adele lost in a book strangely appealing. It had a certain… intellectual charm.

But there was another scent, a faint, fresh scent that couldn’t be ignored.

 

Hermione. A woman Dorothy was starting to despise.

They used to be friends, able to converse freely and share their thoughts. But that was no longer the case.

As Dorothy had said, “She’s become an annoyance.”

Dorothy also noticed the lack of any bite marks on Adele’s neck. Had Hermione, that woman, recently licked Adele’s wounds with such tenderness and affection?

Dorothy’s gaze turned icy, sending a shiver down Adele’s spine.

“Dorothy…” Adele whimpered, pleading with her to stop.

“When?” Dorothy asked, her voice sharp.

 

“Wh-what…?” Adele stammered, her eyes darting around nervously.

It was clear to Dorothy that Adele was hiding something.

“Are you going to lie to me, Adele?” she pressed, her voice hardening.

Adele took a deep breath, the cold air stinging her lungs. She couldn’t withstand Dorothy’s intense scrutiny.

“Hermione… she was here yesterday,” she admitted reluctantly. “She was… thirsty. So I… I let her…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Dorothy’s arms were around her, crushing her in a tight embrace. Adele gasped for air, struggling in vain against Dorothy’s powerful grip.

To an outsider, it might have looked like a passionate reunion between two lovers who had been apart for too long.

 

But Adele felt like she was suffocating.

“I don’t want to share you anymore,” Dorothy whispered, her voice a mixture of possessiveness and desperation. “Don’t disobey me, Adele.”

She was struggling to maintain control, to keep her powers and emotions in check. Dark, destructive thoughts flickered at the edges of her mind, urging her to obliterate everything in her path until she found… satisfaction. Or perhaps, oblivion.

“What do you mean, ‘disobey’?” Adele retorted, her voice surprisingly steady despite the situation.

Even now, facing Dorothy’s wrath, she refused to cower.

“You want me to go back to being the way I was before? Is that what’s best for you?” she asked, her voice laced with bitterness. “What was the point of our conversation then? You were the one who pushed me towards them, Dorothy. Hermione, Sharon…”

“You created this situation,” she continued, her voice rising. “And I was willing to accept it, to submit to your whims. But I won’t let you erase everything with a wave of your hand, as if nothing ever happened! Things have changed, Dorothy. You can’t just pretend it never happened. The bullets have already been fired, leaving wounds that can’t be healed. Just like… my body… bears the marks of Hermione.”

 

She turned away, her cheeks burning with shame. Since Dorothy had already discovered her secret rendezvous with Hermione, Adele decided to shift the blame.

It was Dorothy’s fault! Adele was blameless, as always!

And while she was at it, why not provoke Dorothy a little? See how she reacted, how deeply she cared.

After spending so much time with the Sequence Ones and Twos, Adele’s fear of Dorothy, though still present, had lost its paralyzing grip.

Dorothy’s arms loosened slightly, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Adele’s words had hit her harder than she expected.

Hermione’s marks… on Adele’s body?

Her pink hair trembled, a strange greenish tinge appearing for a fleeting moment.

 

As the dizziness subsided, rage filled Dorothy’s heart. She shoved Adele, sending her crashing to the floor.

Adele squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

*This is it. I went too far!*

She was probably going to be punished severely now.

But the expected pain didn’t come.

Instead, she felt a gentle hand cradling her head, another supporting her back.

She opened her eyes to find Dorothy hovering over her, her expression a mixture of anger and concern.

 

Even in her rage, Dorothy had instinctively protected Adele from harm.

Dorothy’s feelings for her… they were real.

A pang of guilt flickered in Adele’s heart, but she quickly suppressed it, focusing on maintaining her act.

She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. But even in her apparent weakness, a spark of defiance remained in her gaze.

It was that spark that tormented Dorothy the most.

“Adele, why…?” she whispered, her voice cracking with pain.

And so began the scene that had made Nightingale, the human observer, avert her gaze.

 

Adele turned away, a single tear rolling down her flushed cheek. “Why? You ask me why? Who should I ask?” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion.

“You were the one who turned me into this, Dorothy,” she continued, her voice gaining strength. “I finally accepted it, built new relationships with Hermione and Sharon, became their friend. And now, with a single word, you want to destroy everything I’ve worked for, chain me to your side, and make me your exclusive possession?”

“What did I do to deserve such disrespect?”

Tears streamed down her face, and she bit her lip so hard that it drew blood. The light in her eyes seemed to dim, and she closed them, shaking her head slowly.

“Fine… do whatever you want,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m just a toy to you, after all…”

She tilted her head back, exposing her delicate neck, her eyes still closed. Like a lamb awaiting slaughter.

But Dorothy, clutching her head, let out a cry of pain, her body trembling.

 

Adele’s despair… was it directed at her? Was Adele truly disappointed in her?

She stumbled back, bumping into the wall, oblivious to the pain.

“No… no!” she screamed, her voice raw with agony. It was as if another being was trying to claw its way out from within her.

*Don’t let it happen, Dorothy! Adele will die… everyone will die!*

This wasn’t what Adele had hoped for. She stared at Dorothy in horror, her own fear momentarily eclipsing her carefully crafted act.

What the hell was happening? Why was Dorothy losing control?

Of course, Adele wasn’t exactly in a position to question anyone’s sanity right now. She was the one who had instigated this entire mess, after all.

 

Her intention had been to force Dorothy’s hand, to make her acknowledge and accept Adele’s relationships with Hermione and Sharon. Otherwise, Adele would be trapped, Dorothy’s sole possession, her wings clipped.

Hermione would never stand for it. She would try to rescue Adele, and Celeste, loyal as ever, would undoubtedly follow. Even Sharon, timid as she was, might find the courage to defy Dorothy.

But they were no match for Dorothy. It would be a massacre.

That wasn’t the future Adele had envisioned.

So she had taken a gamble, hoping to persuade Dorothy through sheer force of will.

But it was clear now that her plan had backfired spectacularly.

The priority now was to calm Dorothy down before she completely lost control.

 

Had Dorothy ever lost control before?

Yes.

During a mission.

The author hadn’t provided any details. After all, the story was told from Adele’s perspective, and the other “villainesses” were merely side characters, their actions often glossed over.

But the little information the author had provided about that mission, that incident, that… disaster… was enough to make Adele’s blood run cold.

—”Everyone died. Witches, foreign races, humans, vampires… everyone involved in that mission perished. Except for Dorothy. She stood amidst the rubble, untouched, as if she were an angel descended from heaven.”

It must have been a beautiful sight.

 

But Adele knew that if that scene ever played out again, she wouldn’t be around to witness it.

She had to stop Dorothy, and fast.

She had caused this mess, and she would fix it.

She couldn’t rely on Sharon. The girl would probably just make things worse.

If Sharon came rushing to her rescue, driven by misplaced concern… it would be the end for all of them.

Dorothy stumbled back, clutching her head, her voice a pained whisper. “Adele… Adele…”

“I’m… I’m here,” Adele said, her voice trembling.

 

“I’m here, Dorothy!”

She gathered all her courage and embraced Dorothy, holding her tight. She couldn’t help but notice how soft and delicate Dorothy felt in her arms, a strange warmth spreading through her.

Dorothy seemed to calm down slightly in her embrace, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t seem to hear Adele’s pleas.

No matter how many endearments Adele whispered, how many titles she bestowed upon her…

“My princess…”

“My Dorothy…”

“My wife…”

 

“My wings…”

“My… dog?”

…Dorothy remained unresponsive.

But if a hug had worked… then there was only one thing left to do.

In a swift motion, Adele reversed their positions, pinning Dorothy to the floor. She bit down on her lip, drawing blood.

It hurt like hell, but she had no other choice.

Then, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against Dorothy’s, pouring all her desperation into the kiss.

 

She wasn’t optimistic about its effectiveness.

If this didn’t work…

Well, she would have to go all the way.

Even if it meant dying at Dorothy’s hands, at least she would die a romantic death…