Ellie's breath caught, just barely, but I heard it. And then I smelled it. That sweet, heady scent that had been growing stronger over the past few days. A scent that made my pulse quicken every time I caught even a hint of it. Arousal. Her arousal.
My wings trembled, threatening to flutter again. I had to concentrate to keep them still, every muscle straining with the effort as I moved past her toward the stove. I felt her eyes on me, tracking the movement of my body, lingering on the breadth of my shoulders, the muscles of my back, the way water still trickled down my spine.
I settled near the wood stove, close enough to feel its warmth radiating against my damp skin. Behind me, I heard Ellie take a shaky breath, then busy herself with prepping the fish, the sounds of her knife scraping overly loud in the quiet tent.
"These are amazing," she said, her voice slightly higher than normal, breathier. "You caught four? That's... that's impressive."
I glanced back at her over my shoulder and caught her staring at my back, at the way the muscles shifted as I moved, before her eyes darted away again toward where she shoved two of the fish into a small pan. The scent of her arousal intensified, filling the small space, and something primal and possessive stirred in my gut, something I'd thought long buried. My cockstirred as well, shaking off the cold. I gritted my teeth, forcing it into submission.
I liked this. I liked how she looked at me that way. I liked how I affected her, made her pulse quicken, and her scent change. I liked the way her cheeks flushed when our eyes met, that delicate pink spreading across her skin.
After my mate died, I thought that part of me was gone forever. The part that wanted to be desired, to be seen as male rather than just a warrior. The part that took pride in a female's interest.
But Ellie made me feel it again. Made me feel alive again in ways I'd forgotten were possible, ways that terrified and exhilarated me in equal measure.
And my wings—traitorous fucking things—kept trying to flutter every time she looked at me. Among the Gudari, it was the most obvious signal of attraction, an involuntary response as natural as breathing, like the hardening of one's cock. Young males constantly teased each other for their inability to control their wings around females they fancied.
I was far too old to be acting like a fledgling. Yet here I was, fighting to keep my wings still and my cock under control while a human female made my heart race with nothing more than a glance.
"They should cook well," I said, my voice rough, almost gravelly. "The lake is still well-stocked despite the cold."
Ellie nodded, still not quite meeting my eyes as she settled the pan on the stove. But I saw the small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and I knew—she was as aware of this thing between us as I was.
"Bass," she said softly, flipping the fish in the pan. The sizzle of frying meat echoed in the tent, the smell already making my mouth water. "These are bass."
"Like the store," I said without thinking. "The one we pillaged."
Her cheeks flushed deeper, though whether from embarrassment or the heat of the stove, I couldn't tell. "God, I still can't believe we just... took all that stuff." She shook her head, her hair falling forward to hide her face. "When this is all over. When everything gets straightened out. I'm paying them back for every single thing. Every bottle of water, every blanket, all of it."
The earnestness in her voice made something warm unfurl in my chest. Even running for her life, in the middle of something she hadn't asked to be part of, she worried about doing the right thing, about honor.
"They would understand," I said gently. "Survival requires difficult choices."
"Maybe." She resumed her work, but her jaw set in that stubborn way I was beginning to recognize that meant she would not be swayed. "But I'm still paying them back."
The fish cooked quickly, the skin crisping to a perfect golden brown, bubbling and popping in the pan. When Ellie divided them onto our plates—mismatched metal camping dishes—the smell alone made my mouth water. The first bite was heaven. Flaky, tender meat that tasted of the clean, icy lake, fresh and simple and perfect.
"Oh my God," Ellie mumbled around a mouthful, her eyes closing in bliss. "This is so good."
I had to agree. We ate in companionable silence, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the occasional scrape of forks against plates. When we finished, Ellie immediately set to work cleaning up, scraping the plates clean and wrapping the scraps in plastic.
"Can't leave anything that might attract animals," she explained, tucking the bundle into one of our supply bags and securing it. "Bears, coyotes, whatever else is out there."
While she worked, I grabbed our empty water bottles and stepped outside into the frigid dawn. The snow had stopped, leaving everything blanketed in white that glowed faintly in the growing light, pristine and untouched. I found a clear patch of snow away from the tent, scooped it into the bottles until they were full, packed it down, and brought it back inside to set on the stove. It would melt while we slept, and by sunset we'd have clean water.
The temperature was dropping fast. I felt it as I made another trip outside to gather more firewood from the stack I'd built earlier. My breath came out in thick clouds, and frost was already forming on the tent's outer shell, creating delicate patterns. I loaded my arms with as much wood as I could carry and brought it inside, stacking it near the stove where it would stay dry and ready.
By the time I finished, Ellie had already changed into her sleeping clothes—taking off her camouflage pants and jacket, revealing the thermal layers underneath. It somehow made her look smaller, more vulnerable, emphasizing how delicate she was as she burrowed deep within her sleeping bag. Clad only in my loincloth while my pants dried by the fire, I forewent divesting myself of anything further and slid into the bag next to hers.
The sleeping bags were close enough that I felt the warmth radiating from her body, heard the soft sound of her breathing as she settled in, every exhale a quiet whisper. We lay there, the fire casting dancing shadows on the tent walls that shifted and moved like living things, and I found myself acutely aware of every slight movement she made. The rustle of fabricas she shifted. The quiet sigh as she got comfortable, a sound of contentment that made my chest tighten.
I liked this. Lying next to her, even separated by layers of insulation. It felt right in a way I couldn't quite explain. Like this was exactly where I was supposed to be, like all the paths of my life had led to this moment.
"Goodnight, Rickon," she whispered into the darkness.
"Goodnight, Ellie."
I listened as her breathing gradually slowed and deepened, becoming rhythmic and steady, and only then did I let myself drift off to sleep.
