The Incest

Chapter five

Cora’s POV

I was halfway down the spiral staircase brain screaming Don’t die,i***t when my foot hit nothing. Gravity was suddenly a very real, very mean concept.

“f**k! s**t—”

Before I could even brace for impact, strong hands shot around my waist, yanking me back like some kind of action movie stunt. My face hit the curve of his chest. Hard. Heart threatening to explode.

“Holy Cora, are you okay?” Xavier’s voice was calm, almost teasing, but my brain wasn’t processing words. Only you’re touching me, you’re touching me, kill me now.

“I—I’m fine! Totally fine! Nope! Don’t—ugh, f**k!” I twisted in his grip, trying to wriggle away, but his hands didn’t budge. “Let go, you—asshole—nope!”

His smirk was infuriating. “Relax, you’re not going anywhere.”

I felt my cheeks ignite like someone had set them on fire. My hands pressed against his chest pointless, I know, physics was not on my side. “I’m going to die of shame,” I muttered. “Just—just let me die, okay?”

“Shame, huh?” His voice had that teasing lilt that made my stomach twist and my brain short-circuit at the same time. “You should thank me.”

“Thank you? For what? Almost humiliating myself in front of… everything? No. Absolutely not. f*****g nope.”

Finally, he let me down, but my legs felt like jello. I scuttled off the stairs like a defeated crab, staring at the floor, refusing to look at him. Refusing.

I didn’t leave my room the rest of the day. Not for anything. Meals were skipped, people waved at me, and I didn’t respond. I didn’t even breathe the same air as anyone. Every second I’d replay the “arms around my waist, chest-to-face, f**k me sideways” moment like some horrible, humiliating movie.

Hours later, when I finally dared to peek out—hallway empty, moonlight painting the marble in silver—I was so careful, so calculated. But of course, he was there. Xavier, standing like he had nothing to do all day except ruin my life with perfect timing.

I tried to dart past. Fast. Ninja style. Invisible.

He caught my wrist. “Going somewhere?”

I froze. “I—uh—s**t—nope—damn it!”

And then… somehow… he held my hand. Light, teasing, but not letting go. My heart wasn’t just skipping a beat. It was a damn drumline.

“Cora,” he said softly. “Don’t run.”

I didn’t know what to do. Say something smart? Something sarcastic? Or just curl up and cry into the nearest chandelier? I went with the last option in my head. Out loud, I managed:

“f*****g hell, Xavier, let go of my hand before I combust or something.”

He didn’t let go. Smirk still in place. Eyes unreadable. My brain short-circuited again. And just like that… the day was officially ruined.

I tried to tug my hand free, but it was like holding onto a brick wall. His grip was firm but not cruel—just enough to make me hyper-aware of every nerve ending in my fingers.

“Cora…” His voice was low now, no teasing, just… quiet. Dangerous quiet. My stomach flipped. I wanted to say something clever, maybe insult him, maybe curse him out, but instead all I could manage was:

“Why are you like… always… everywhere?” My words came out broken, each one punctuated by a sharp inhale of air I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

He raised an eyebrow. “Everywhere?” The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile. “I’m right here now. That’s all that matters.”

“Oh, sure.” I rolled my eyes, though the heat in my cheeks refused to cool. “That’s comforting.” Totally comforting. Not like my heart had just started doing drumline-level gymnastics or anything.

He leaned closer, just enough that I could smell his cologne—a mix of something woody and dangerous, like he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re not going to run from me forever, Cora,” he said softly. “And honestly… I don’t want you to.”

The world seemed to slow down around me. My brain screamed, Run! Cry! Throw something! Anything! but my limbs refused. My hand, his hand… it felt too important to pull away, even if my pride screamed otherwise.

Finally, he released my wrist, just slightly, enough that I could move, but his fingers lingered near mine. That small contact alone made my knees tremble.

“Don’t make me regret saving your clumsy ass,” he added, smirk back in place, that teasing glint lighting up his eyes again.

I wanted to punch him. Hard. Or maybe… kiss him. My brain was honestly questioning all life choices at this point. “You’re infuriating,” I whispered, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably.

“Good,” he said. “I aim to be.”

I groaned, because really, what else could I do? Nothing in my life had prepared me for this… Xavier, this combination of infuriating, teasing, dangerous, and—God help me—irresistible.

And somehow, I had a feeling… this was only the beginning.

I tried to step past him again, but my feet felt like they’d grown roots. Every fiber of my body screamed at me to move, but every glance at him froze me in place.

Xavier tilted his head, eyes scanning my face like he was reading some secret code. “You’re not going anywhere tonight, are you?”

“I—uh—s**t—no, of course not!” I stumbled over my words, which probably made me look like a complete i***t. My stomach tightened. “I mean… yes! I’m going! Somewhere! Anywhere!”

He smirked, that maddening, knowing smirk. And then… he stepped closer. My back pressed against the cold marble wall, and suddenly the hallway felt impossibly small. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

“Cora,” he said, voice low, deliberate. “Look at me.”

I didn’t want to. My pride screamed don’t!, but my body betrayed me anyway. Slowly, cautiously, my eyes flicked up to meet his.

There was something in his gaze… something soft, something dangerous, something that made my knees threaten to give out. I could feel it in the heat crawling up my chest, the way my breaths came too fast.

And then his hand was there, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. My chest tightened, and I swore I could feel sparks—literal sparks—running down my arms.

“Stop teasing me,” I whispered, trying to sound annoyed, though my voice came out shaky.

“I’m not teasing,” he said, and his smirk vanished. “I’m… serious. You don’t run from me anymore, Cora. Not tonight.”

His words hit me like a punch and a caress at the same time. I wanted to step back, to regain some shred of dignity, but the wall behind me prevented it. My body was suddenly acutely aware of his proximity—the heat radiating from him, the brush of his hand still near my face, the faint scent of him making my head spin.

And then, impossibly, he leaned closer. My heart threatened to shatter through my ribs, but I couldn’t look away. I knew what was coming before it happened: the dangerous, reckless pull between us, the magnetic force that refused to be ignored.

His lips hovered near mine, teasingly close, and I could feel my entire body vibrating with a mix of panic, desire, and the kind of nervous excitement that made my knees wobble.

“Cora,” he murmured, so close I could feel his breath, “don’t make me wait any longer.”

I froze. My brain short-circuited. Say something clever. Move. Cry. Flee. Punch him. None of it happened. Instead, I just stood there, trapped in the gravity of him, feeling every nerve on fire…

And then—he didn’t kiss me.

Instead, his smirk returned, slow and infuriating. He stepped back just enough to break the suffocating closeness, letting me gasp for air I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Relax, Cora,” he said, voice light, teasing, like everything that had just happened wasn’t a tornado of chaos inside my chest. “I’m not that cruel.”

My heart didn’t listen. It was still hammering in my ears, betraying me. My legs threatened to collapse under me. “You… you—” I stammered, words failing, throat tight, “You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” he asked innocently, one eyebrow raised. “Save you from falling down stairs? Make you feel like your knees are made of jelly? Cause you to—what?—short-circuit?”

I wanted to shove him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to curl into a ball somewhere dark and pretend the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. But mostly, I wanted to disappear.

“You’re… cruel,” I muttered, voice small, though the heat in my cheeks betrayed me. “And… infuriating. And—ugh—you… you made me feel like—like—”

Like what? Like I wanted to reach out and touch him? Like I wanted to trust him with my racing heart? Like I had just been… teased into feeling something I wasn’t supposed to feel?

“You what?” His tone was still playful, but now there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, as if he actually wanted to know.

I swallowed hard, my chest tight. “Like… that. Like it mattered. Like… like you could actually—”

“Could actually what?” he pressed, grinning, oblivious.

And that was it. The floodgates opened. I wanted to scream at him for being so impossible. I wanted to shake him for being so maddening. I wanted to crawl under the nearest chandelier and never come out.

“You’re such a—” I began, voice breaking, “—an asshole! You… you make everything feel… I don’t—ugh, I hate you!”

And then I bolted. Literally. Down the hallway, past the marble, past the moonlight, past him. My chest burned. My brain refused to function. My heart… my heart felt bruised, though he hadn’t actually done anything “wrong.”

He called after me, laughing softly. “Cora! Hey! I was just teasing!”

But the words didn’t reach me. They couldn’t. My legs carried me up to my room, slammed the door, locked it, and for the first time all day… I let myself feel the sting of it.

The sting of realizing… that he could make me feel something so dangerous, so real, even if he didn’t mean to. Even if it was just teasing.

And somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew this was far from over.