Tethered in the Dark - A Love Story

Selene and Aria

The moment Selene looped her arm through mine, I felt the resistance in my body waver. It was as though my feet no longer belonged to me—they were being carried by her laughter, her gentle insistence, and the soft tug of Aria’s hand at my other side. Their warmth was disarming, so much so that for a heartbeat, I forgot the rain outside, the alley, the hands that had clawed at me.

The three of us ascended a sweeping staircase, the wood dark and polished, creaking faintly beneath our steps. The upstairs hall opened into a corridor washed in amber light, rugs soft underfoot, walls lined with framed photographs and little shelves cluttered with books, candles, and tiny trinkets that looked both expensive and lived-in. Every detail told me this was no ordinary cottage. It was a home. A sanctuary.

Selene swung open the nearest door with a flourish. “Come in, come in—our guest suite-s***h-dressing room,” she announced.

The room was large, dominated by a bed so big it looked like it had swallowed half the space. Piles of folded blankets sat neatly on a trunk at the foot. Across one wall, wardrobes and dressers stood like sentinels, their polished brass handles gleaming. Aria flitted straight toward them, tugging drawers open, humming to herself as she rifled through stacks of clothes.

“Leggings or sweatpants?” Aria called out.

“Both,” Selene said decisively. “She looks like she could use options.”

They moved with the effortless synchronicity of two women who had known each other all their lives. It was strange, watching them fuss over me as though I belonged here, as though this night hadn’t ripped me apart.

“Alright,” Selene said finally, turning back to me with two sweaters draped over her arm, one soft cream and the other deep forest green. “But first—you’re going to have to take off Ash’s jacket so we can size you.”

At once, my chest tightened. My hands gripped the thick leather tighter around me, clutching it like a shield.

Selene tilted her head. “It’s just a jacket, sweetheart.”

“Unless you’re planning on wearing it for the rest of your life,” Aria teased gently.

I swallowed. The jacket was warm, smelled faintly of smoke and pine and something rich I couldn’t place. Taking it off felt like stripping away the only layer that kept me from falling apart. But their eyes—soft, expectant—left me with no choice. Slowly, reluctantly, I slipped it from my shoulders.

The silence was immediate.

Their chatter, their laughter—all gone in a heartbeat. Their gazes fell to my dress, or rather what was left of it: fabric torn jaggedly at the sleeves and hem, dirt smeared across the pale material, streaks of blood at the seams where skin had broken. My arms, barely covered, showed the bruises already blooming purple, the thin welts where fingers had grabbed too hard.

Aria’s lips parted first. “Who did this to you?”

Selene’s eyes blazed. She took a step forward, her voice sharp as glass. “Was it Ash? No way he would—but if it was, I swear I’ll go down there and beat him to a pulp myself.”

My breath caught. Their loyalty startled me—their instinct to defend me, to protect me, even from the man they clearly admired. Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. I shook my head violently, the words spilling out broken.

“No… no, it wasn’t him. It was—”

The rest never formed. The sobs ripped out of me, raw and uncontrollable. My legs buckled, and suddenly their arms were around me. Selene pulled me tight against her shoulder while Aria circled from the other side, patting my back, rocking me gently as if I were a child.

“It’s okay,” Aria whispered. “You’re safe now.”

The sobs came harder, shaking me until my chest hurt. Selene rubbed slow circles against my spine, murmuring, “Breathe, darling, just breathe.”

When the storm of it began to ebb, Aria’s voice broke the quiet. “Did those guys get what they deserved?” She hesitated, then asked, softer still, “Did Ash beat them to a pulp?”

I blinked at her through tears, stunned she knew. That she could guess. That she sounded so certain. Slowly, I nodded.

Selene exhaled sharply. “Good.” She pressed her cheek to my temple. “Then think of it as a nightmare, nothing more. It’s over now. Shower, get warm, change into something soft, and you’ll feel better. Trust me.”

The two girls exchanged a glance above my head—an unspoken language passing between them, silent but sure. It was uncanny.

And then, just as quickly, the tension broke. Aria laughed suddenly, a bright, musical sound. “Wait a second. We didn’t even introduce ourselves, did we? I’m Aria. This bossy one here is Selene.”

Selene rolled her eyes, but her lips curved faintly. “And you are?”

“Talia,” I whispered, wiping my face.

“Nice to meet you, Talia,” Aria said warmly. She squeezed my arm. “Okay, here’s the plan: you take a shower, and we’ll hang out here until you’re done. We’ll even walk you downstairs afterward, deal? That way you don’t feel like we’re abandoning you.”

Selene lifted one of the sweaters meaningfully. “And I promise you’ll be cozy. No more shivering.”

For the first time in hours, something close to a laugh bubbled in my throat. “Alright,” I said softly.

They both smiled, satisfied. Aria pointed toward a door at the far end of the room. “Bathroom’s there. Go on—we’ve got you.”

⸻

The bathroom light clicked on with a hum. I stepped inside and shut the door, leaning back against it for a moment. The room smelled faintly of lavender soap and warm cedar. White marble tiles stretched across the floor, a massive clawfoot tub dominating one corner, a sleek glass shower in the other.

But it was the mirror that caught me.

I froze.

The reflection was a stranger: hair wild and plastered from the rain, mascara smudged into bruiselike shadows beneath my swollen eyes, lips split at the corner. My dress clung to me, ripped and stained, and my skin showed the full map of the night—scrapes, bruises, the faint red outline of a handprint across my wrist.

For a long moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I pressed both hands to the sink, gripping the cold porcelain as though it could hold me together. The sobs threatened again, clawing up my throat. But instead, I swallowed them back, forcing the words out in a whisper only I could hear.

“It’s over. I’m safe. For now.”

And yet, lingering in the air around me, stronger than the lavender, stronger than the cedar, was the faint scent of leather and pine. His jacket. His warmth. I could still feel it draped over my shoulders, cocooning me in something I hadn’t let myself feel in years: safety.

The thought startled me almost as much as the bruises did.

My trembling hand reached for the shower knob. Water roared to life, steam billowing instantly to fog the mirror. The storm outside might have raged on, but in here, at least for one night, it was drowned out.

I closed my eyes, letting the sound swallow me whole.