Poison Rose of Avalon

Liora glanced down, smoothing the fabric of her dress, her fingers brushing against the hem as if to reassure herself. Her black kitten heels clicked softly against the pavement, each step was taken carefully. She looked fine—perfect, even—so why had that rider let his gaze linger on her legs like that?

The look lingered in her mind even though she couldn't make out the face of the individual behind the tinted helmet, but it was clear he was focused on her legs, stirring a sense of déjà vu she couldn't shake.

Shoving the thought away, she continued walking alongside her friends, but then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw them. Three riders entered the lot, their bikes purring with authority. The deep rumble of their engines quieted all other sounds around them as if they sought attention without uttering a single word.

The bikes. The riders. The way they stood exuded a mix of arrogance and ease. 

Daran's voice cut through the haze. "Wait... is that...?"

Liora slowed her steps, watching as they parked, their movements deliberate and calculated. They removed their helmets one by one, and something inside her shifted. Her breath hitched.

There they were—two faces alongside one she tried to erase from her mind. Nova, Kai, and Logan.

Their names came unbidden, rolling through her mind like thunder. High school seniors. Legends on and off the track. And now, standing only meters away, they were preparing for a race, their Ducati Panigale V4 R motorcycles gleaming like they'd been forged for gods, not men.

"You are here..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her old high school seniors stood just a few meters away, gearing up for a bike race. Liora's gaze locked onto one face in particular without realisation, her pulse quickening. Nova.

He hadn't just aged; he'd transformed. The boy who had once ruled the halls with quiet dominance was gone, replaced by someone sharper, harder. There was a ferocity in his gaze now, an untamed edge that hadn't been there before.

And damn it, he was tall, dashing and handsome —like a god descended from Olympus, captivating everyone around him, including her.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she stood there, unable to look away.

His dark hair ruffled by the night's wind, his jaw set with determination. He had developed a strong physique—now a commanding figure, both impressive and authoritative. The signs of maturity were clearly visible on his handsome face, which was well-defined and intentional as if an artist had laboured extra to refine his looks. He still wore that serious expression, the one that had always suited him, though now it carried an edge of something deeper.

Liora couldn't help herself. Her lips parted slightly as she stared at him, unbidden and unashamed. He was magnetic in a way that left her mind trailing off into unknown, dangerous places. Similar to the moment when their gazes first locked.

"Should we go over and greet them, our ex-seniors?" Daran's inquiry snapped Lora out of her stupor.

"I don't believe that's a wise choice. I'm sure they wouldn't even recognize that we attended the same school."

Liora's reply came quick, and her tone was sharper. Her jaw tightened as she glared at Nova. Her eyes, which had been admiring him before, took a 180-degree turn. How could she forget how he ignorred her when all she wanted was to show her gratitude for saving her, and Nova treated her as if she were... invisible?

"They are still your senior." Rachel remarked, directing her attention to the same three bikers as Daran and Liora.

"What?" Liora's eyes widened in surprise as she turned to look at Rachel, but she quickly adjusted her expression and tone to be neutral.

"I mean, it doesn't matter. We were insignificant to them before, and it will be the same now. I just hope we never encounter each other on campus." With that, Liora walked away and settled into the seating area for viewers.

Liora observed every biker arriving at the improvised racetrack. Her gaze landed on Kai, who stood beside Donovan. Kai leaned against his motorcycle with his usual cocky smirk that he had maintained over the years, his casual confidence lighting up the space around him.

Logan, however, was a contrast—a brooding, focused presence, his eyes fixed on the track like it held the answers to his every question.

The racetrack stretched out before bikers, a vast parking lot illuminated by the uneven, flickering glow of streetlights that struggled against the encroaching darkness. The roar of revving engines bounced off the nearby buildings, amplifying the feeling of rebellion that filled every inch of the lot.

The other bikes were a spectacle in themselves. One rider straddled a sleek black Ducati Monster. Another sat on a Yamaha YZF-R6 frame catching the light in a way that screamed speed.

A matte green Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R crouched nearby, its aggressive design daring anyone to challenge it. A custom-designed chopper shone brightly under the scattered lights, while one of the classic Harley-Davidson resonated throughout the lot, demanding admiration.

Yet, Nova, Kai, and Logan's sportbikes stood out, their machines are as striking as their riders. Gloves were tightened, helmets were secured, and a sense of rivalry hung in the atmosphere.

"It's looks like some exclusive elite race," Liora muttered.

Liora's gaze drifted, catching sight of the polished females hovering around the bikes. They laughed along with the bikers, flirted, and casted hungry glances at the Trio, which weren't oblivious. The females' intentions were as clear as the glow of their designer shoes under the streetlights.

Rachel smiled with excitement, the exhilaration clear in her gaze. "It is and it's going to be an incredible performance! Every biker racer is from the second or several chaboel generations, alongside women hovering around."

Liora's tone was impartial, "I assumed as much."

Daran glanced at Rachel and noted, "Viewers here likely share a similar background to ours." It wasn't framed as a question.

Rachel affirmed with a nod, "correct!"

Something clicked in Daran's mind, and he asked, "Are there any members of the Valtham family?"

At Daran's inquiry, Liora craned her neck, seemingly trying to search what a Valtham son, a royal, might resemble.

Rachel's gaze was fixed on the racetrack like everyone else's.

"They are royalty; one must hold a high position to encounter them. Commoners have no chance of meeting them. They are quite secretive," Rachel replied. "Even during university visits, one would be hard-pressed to identify them amidst the throngs—not even by chance while walking to the office or through the corridors. It's as if they are like a wind, arriving and departing unseen, yet their presence can still be felt."

The countdown began, and the crowd held their breath including Liora, Daran and Rachel, as the engines rumbled to life. The noise was overwhelming, a growl that sent a rush of adrenaline through every vein.

And then, they were off.

The bikes surged forward like arrows released from the bow. The dust and smoke billowed behind them. Each twist and turn demanded a new challenge, both skill and bravado. Riders leaned deeply into the curves, their knees nearly brushing the asphalt, while sparks flew as metal scraped the ground.

Liora's heart raced with the pack. She found it hard to catch her breath. Her eyes were locked on the scene before her. The riders moved like they were part of their machines. It was a sensation she had never experienced before, a thrill that surged through her veins, and she wished to be riding one of the bikes on the racetrack.

The audience stood and roared as the lead shifted, the competitors pushing against one another in their bid for dominance. The finish line appeared in sight of the bikers.

When the first bike crossed the line, the crowd exploded into cheers and groans. It was Donovan who defeated the others.

Liora couldn't stop herself—she stood and jumped, clapping and laughing with Rachel, the energy of the night infectious.

As the thrill of the moment began to fade, Nova, Kai, and Logan got off their bikes,took off their helmets and gloves,sweeping their hair back. Yet, just when the evening seemed to quiet down, a polished black Mercedes BenzS-Class drove in next to them.

The car's tinted windows reflected the streetlights, and when the door opened, a woman stepped out.

'Rihana Ritz.'

She was the kind of woman who didn't just walk into a room—she claimed it. Her white off-shoulder mini-dress hugged her figure perfectly, the hem flirting with the edge of scandal. Her long, straight blonde hair cascaded down her back like liquid gold, and her light grey eyes sparkled with an almost dangerous allure.

She smiled at Nova, a subtle curve of her lips that carried more weight than words ever could. Liora's stomach tightened as she watched Rihana stride toward Donovan, not knowing why. She looked away, watching the crowd begin to scatter.

"What's next?" Liora inquired as she turned to Rachel, who was next to her. Liora reclined, supporting herself on her elbows. Her gaze returned to Donovan and Rihana as they faded away, with Donovan riding his bike and Rihana in her car. Similar to high school, he still failed to notice her this time as well. Liora thought to herself.

Rachel sat upright, her face lighting up with excitement. "A high-end party. Want to crash it?"

Liora shook her head and suppressed a yawn. "I'm really worn out. You guys should go ahead, though." She massaged the back of her neck, tilting her head to relieve the strain. "Don't let me hold you back."

Daran stretched his legs out and yawned. "I'm with Liora on this one. Exhausted."

Rachel sighed dramatically, her excitement deflating. You both are such a downer." She rose to her feet, brushing off the dirt from her macro short jeans. "Let's head home."

On the way, Liora found herself revisiting the sight of Donovan and Rihana. They looked incredible together—his coal-black hair beautifully contrasting her sun-kissed waves, their stormy and shimmering dark and light grey eyes forming a perfect pair.

'Will Caspian and I ever look that good together?' The thought sent a blush creeping up her cheeks.

The following morning, sunlight poured in through the windows, creating golden patterns on Liora's bed. She shifted slightly, embracing a pillow as gentle sounds slipped from her lips. Gradually, her eyes opened, adjusting to the brightness.

She reached her arms up over her head, enjoying the stretch in her muscles, then let out a soft yawn. "That was the best sleep I've had in such a long time," she said, amazed.

Supporting herself on her elbow, she looked at Daran and Rachel, who were stretched out on the mattress positioned on the floor to keep Liora company while she rested on the sofa bed. Rachel's head was resting on Daran's shoulder, with his arm securely wrapped around her. Liora's lips twitched into a knowing smile.

"Hmm," she whispered to herself. ′Are they just friends, or is there something more?′

Seeing them cudlle so intimately, her thoughts drifted to Caspian, and a flush warmed her cheeks again. 'Would he ever hold me like that?' She buried her face in the pillow to hide her embarrassment, kicking the blanket off in the process.

"What ridiculous thoughts are you having now?"

Liora flinched and looked up to see Daran staring at her. His hair was tousled, and his eyes were still half-closed.

"Ridiculous? You're one to talk!" She grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him. "Just how long did you intend to keep this relationship a secret?"

Rachel shifted slightly, rubbing her eyes awake. "Relationship? What relationship?"

"You two, obviously!" Liora jabbed a finger toward them. "Don't think I didn't notice the cuddling under one blanket."

Daran groaned, running a hand down his face. After you passed out, we continued to drink more. We were utterly exhausted. That's all there is to it." He got up and walked to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, took a generous sip, and placed it down gently. So, what's the takeaway from this?"

"Don't drink too much?" Liora guessed, looking sheepish.

Daran's tone was mock-stern. "Getting drunk leads to mistakes you regret the next day." He sounded like Officer Park for a moment there.

Rachel's eyes flew open, her stare fixed on Daran. "Mistake?" she asked icily, her tone laced with blame.

Daran paused, then glanced away, feigning ignorance to her stare. "I assumed she was a cuddly bear."

Liora burst into laughter upon hearing Daran's reply. "I had no idea you liked plush toys. I would have given you one on every birthday if I had known."

Liora shifted the topic, asking, "How did I end up here? I don't remember getting out of the car." She glanced at her outfit, which was the same as what she wore in the evening, while Rachel and Daran were dressed in their sleepwear.

"That's because I carried you," Rachel interjected with a smug grin. "You had dozed off in the car, and none of us wanted to disturb your slumber."

"What?" Liora erupted into laughter. "You actually carried me? No chance."

Rachel lifted an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Want me to demonstrate?"

Liora's laughter trailed off as she blinked at Rachel, thinking how strong this woman was.

Rachel exhaled, shaking her head. "And just so you know, I was willing to help you change, but Mr. Overprotective over there wouldn't allow it." She shot a sidelong glance at Daran, who occupied himself by gulping down more water.

Rachel walked over to the kitchen counter, integrated into the living room, switching on the coffee machine while Liora settled on the sofa bed, putting her feet down on the floor. As the delightful scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the room, Rachel felt a smile creeping onto her face, her back turned to Liora.

Rachel had always been curious about Liora. The way Daran spoke about her with such uncharacteristic warmth piqued her interest long before they met.

Seeing Liora in person only deepened that fascination.

Liora had a rare quality—an innocence that disarmed even the hardest hearts. It was a power that could be both her strength and her downfall. Bringing a coffee mug to her mouth, Rachel took a sip, quietly admiring the paradox.

Based on intelligence assessments, around 70% of effective espionage missions take advantage of emotional connections. Liora was an ideal choice for a honey trap.

In the shadow world, those with Liora's qualities—innocent appearance, trustworthiness, and vulnerability—can become powerful assets. 

Should she ever decide to defy her true nature, she would seamlessly transform into 'A Poison Rose'.

Rachel turned to see Liora and Daran exchanging grins, their camaraderie evident.

For Daran, Liora represented something beyond a friend, a sister, or a girlfriend. She was the connection to a love he believed he would never experience again. She evoked memories of the family he lacked, and for that reason, he would go to great lengths to shield her, even if it meant going to war against her enemies.

But as he watched Liora folidng the blanket, a hint of anxiety crossed his expression. He was aware of what awaited them, and he questioned whether even he could protect her from it.