Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave?-Chapter 332: Elara [1]

Elara paced across her chamber like caged predator, back and forth, back and forth, her boots making sharp sounds against polished stone floor.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. Her jaw was tight enough to crack teeth.

"Arrogant, self-satisfied, insufferable!"

Her face was crimson. Flushed so deeply it was visible even in the dim lighting of her chamber.

"You’re just jealous, my little sister~"

Brandon’s words echoed in her mind, that teasing tone, that knowing smirk, that absolutely infuriating accuracy...

"I’m not jealous!" She announced to her empty room. "I don’t care who he kisses! I don’t care who he spends time with! I don’t—"

She stopped mid-pace. Pressed both hands to her burning face.

Why am I like this? Why does it bother me so much? He’s my brother. His love life is none of my business. I should be happy he’s found someone. I should—

But the rational thoughts did nothing to cool the heat in her chest. The tight, uncomfortable something that twisted whenever she thought of Brandon with Kira. With anyone.

Knock! Knock!

The sound made her freeze mid-thought. She spun toward the door, her crimson eyes wide.

You’re being ridiculous. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

She drew breath. Straightened her shoulders. Forced her expression into something resembling neutrality despite her still-flushed face.

"Come in," she called, her voice only slightly strained.

The door opened.

Kira stepped through. She wore casual clothing, her usual provocative style toned down to something approaching friendly rather than flirtatious.

"Hi, Ellie!" Her voice was bright, cheerful, carrying genuine warmth.

But something in Elara snapped.

"Don’t call me that with your mouth!" The words came out as hiss.

Carrying hostility so disproportionate to the offense that even Elara froze immediately after speaking.

What did I just say?

Kira’s eyes widened. Her entire body went rigid. The cheerful expression drained from her face, replaced by hurt and confusion.

"I..." She stammered, taking involuntary step backward. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, should I leave? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

Her hands twisted together nervously. "I can go if you want me to go. I just thought... we’re friends, and I wanted to... but if you don’t want me here—"

"No!" Elara forced the word out, forced herself to move, to close the distance between them.

"No, stay. I’m sorry. That was..." She ran hand through her dark hair. "I don’t know why I said that. Please. Stay. Talk. Whatever you came here for."

Kira studied her warily, clearly uncertain whether to trust the invitation.

"Are you sure? Because if you’re upset, I can—"

"I’m sure." Elara gestured toward the seating area, a couch and chairs arranged near the fireplace. "Please. Sit. I promise I won’t bite your head off again."

Why did I react like that? It’s just a nickname. Brandon calls me that all the time and I don’t...

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Brandon called her that. It was his name for her. His affectionate teasing. And hearing it from Kira’s mouth felt like... intrusion. Theft. Someone else claiming something that should be.

Stop it. Stop thinking like this. You’re being insane.

Kira settled onto the couch cautiously, like expecting Elara to explode again at any moment. Her eyes tracked every movement, trying to understand what had triggered that outburst.

Elara sat across from her, forcing herself to relax, to appear calm despite the churning in her chest.

"So," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "What did you want to talk about?"

Kira’s wariness faded slightly. Her natural enthusiasm began creeping back into her expression.

"Well," she said, leaning forward with growing excitement. "I wanted to ask, do you know what day tomorrow is?"

Elara blinked. "What?"

Kira’s eyes narrowed. "You really don’t know?"

Elara’s mind raced through mental calendar. What was significant about tomorrow? Was there some demon holiday she’d forgotten? Some court event?

"Oh." Realization hit. "Tomorrow is Brandon’s birthday."

"Yes!" Kira practically bounced in her seat. "His twenty-third! And I’ve been planning something amazing. I got him this... well, I can’t tell you because it’s a surprise, but it’s perfect for him. And Papa helped me arrange for him..."

She continued talking, words tumbling out in excited rush about plans and gifts and celebrations.

Elara listened with growing tension in her chest.

Why does she know? Why is she so excited?

Then the answer hit her, obvious and simple.

Because she’s his girlfriend. Of course she knows. Of course she’s excited. This is what girlfriends do.

The logical recognition did nothing to ease the tightness in her chest.

What’s wrong with me?

The thought was desperate. Confused. Because this feeling, this possessiveness, jealousy, shouldn’t exist. Shouldn’t be possible.

He was her brother. Her older brother who’d protected her, who’d held her during the attack, who’d survived everything beside her.

She should be happy he’d found someone. Should want him to have relationships, to have life beyond just surviving and training.

But the idea of him having a girlfriend, of Kira getting his smiles, his kisses, his attention, made something in her chest twist painfully.

Made her want to—

No. Stop. This is wrong. You’re being wrong.

"And then after the dinner, I thought we could go to that overlook he likes," Kira was saying, her eyes sparkling.

"You know, the one with the view of the twilight gardens? It’s romantic and private and perfect for—" She cut herself off, blushing slightly. "Well. You know."

I don’t want to know, Elara thought viciously. I really, really don’t want to know.

Out loud, she forced a smile. "That sounds... nice. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it."

The words tasted like ash.

Kira beamed. "I hope so! I’ve been planning this for weeks. I want everything to be perfect." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I’m thinking of, well, maybe taking things to the next level? If the moment feels right?"

Elara’s hands clenched in her lap. Her nails dug into her palms hard enough to leave marks.

"Oh?" Her voice came out strained. "That’s... that’s great. Really. I’m happy for you both."

Liar. You’re lying. You’re not happy. You hate this. You hate her.

Kira continued talking, oblivious to Elara’s internal crisis. Planning. Dreaming. Gushing about Brandon with the kind of genuine affection that should have been sweet.

That instead felt like knives under Elara’s skin.