Instead of answering, he lifts one hand to cup my face, his palm warm against my cold cheek. His thumb brushes across my cheekbone with surprising gentleness, and the touch sends heat racing through my veins.
“You shouldn’t trust me.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m not safe. Not for you, not for anyone who gets too close.”
“Neither am I.” The words come out before I can stop them, honest in a way that scares me. But it’s true—I’ve changed since coming here, become someone willing to defy armies and repair magical wards and challenge a warlord who could crush me without effort.
His expression shifts, surprise giving way to understanding deeper and more dangerous. His thumb traces the line of my jaw, and I see his gaze drop to my lips with an intensity that makes my stomach flutter.
The space between us shrinks until I can sense his breath against my skin, until the heat radiating from his body surrounds me completely. Time seems suspended, stretched thin between heartbeats. I can hear the distant sounds of the fortress below, the whisper of wind through the arrow slits, the soft crackle of torches in the corridor beyond. But all of it fades beneath the thundering of my pulse and the weight of his attention focused entirely on me.
Before I can second-guess myself, before fear or common sense can intervene, I close the distance between us and press my lips to his.
The kiss is soft, tentative, a question rather than a demand. His lips are warm against mine, tasting of ale and darker undertones that make my pulse race. For a heartbeat, he goes completely still, as if he can’t quite believe what’s happening.
Then his control slips.
His free hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. His mouth moves against mine with hungry precision, claiming and demanding in equal measure. I can taste the restraint he’s trying to maintain, sense the effort it takes him not to overwhelm me completely.
Heat floods through me, pooling low in my belly and making me dizzy with want. His arm slides around my waist, pulling me closer until I’m pressed against his chest, until I can sense the rapid beat of his heart against my ribs. The kiss deepens further, becomes desperate and needy, speaking of building tension finally released.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. His amber eyes burn with an intensity that makes my stomach flutter, and his hands shake slightly where they frame my face.
“Zoraya.” My name sounds different on his lips now, rougher and more possessive, weighted with implications that make my cheeks burn.
“I know.” I press my forehead against his, still trying to catch my breath. “I know it’s complicated.”
“Complicated doesn’t begin to cover it.” His voice is strained, hoarse with the effort of maintaining control. “You’re under my protection. My responsibility. I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t want?—”
“You didn’t start this.” I pull back enough to meet his gaze directly. “I did.”
The reminder seems to snap awareness back into place for him. He releases me and leans back, putting distance between us that makes me shiver. The loss of his warmth is immediate and unwelcome, and I have to resist the urge to reach for him again.
“This can’t happen again.” The words come out flat, decisive, but I can see the effort it takes him to say them. “Not while you’re—” He stops, jaw working as he searches for the right words.
“Your captive?” I finish, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounds despite the turmoil in my chest.
“Under my protection.” He corrects, but we both know it amounts to the same thing. The ceremonial shackles on my wrists pulse once—not with pain, but with the weight of obligation that makes me his responsibility, whether either of us wants it or not.
He rises to his feet with fluid grace, the wolf pelts around his shoulders making him seem larger and more intimidating in the moonlight. But I can see the tension in his frame, the careful control he’s using to maintain distance when everything in his posture suggests he wants to be closer.
“Finish your work.” His voice is back to its usual commanding tone but rougher around the edges. “I’ll post guards outside. No one will disturb you.”
He moves toward the door with purposeful strides, each step taking him farther from the moment we just shared. Buthe pauses at the threshold without turning back, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the torchlight from the corridor.
“The kiss—” He starts, then stops. After a long moment, he tries again. “It won’t change anything. Can’t change anything.”
The door closes behind him with deliberate finality, leaving me alone with the standard and the taste of him still lingering on my lips.
I sit in the sudden silence, heart still racing from the kiss and its aftermath. My fingers tremble slightly as I pick up my needle, and I have to take several deep breaths before I can focus on the delicate work again.
It won’t change anything.His words echo in the empty chamber, but I know they’re not entirely true. The barrier has been crossed that can’t be uncrossed. The ceremonial shackles were forged from necessity and politics, but what just happened between us came from somewhere deeper.
The question is what we do about it when the siege begins, when survival becomes more important than whatever this thing between us is becoming.
I return to my stitching, forcing myself to lose focus in the familiar rhythm of needle and thread. But even as I work, repairing ancient magic with hands that still shake from his touch, I can’t escape the awareness that everything has changed.
Several times, I glance toward the windows or the door, expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows beyond the moonlight. Each time, I find nothing but silver light and dark stone. But the unease persists, a prickle between my shoulder blades that suggests hostile eyes tracking my movements.
The kiss with Vlorn has complicated everything, made me a target in ways I’m only beginning to understand. If there are factions within the fortress that question his leadership, that see me as a weakness to exploit, then what just happened between us has given them ammunition they didn’t have before.
