A hissing, shrill sound signals the last wraith. It darts between the ruins, faster, more erratic. My fingers tighten around the hilt of my shadow-forged blade, and I sense the tendrils of my magic stirring, ready to lash out. I leap forward, slashing through the creature’s form just as it lunges at Koen. The wraith shatters, its remnants evaporating into the misty air, leaving only a faint, acrid smell behind.
For a moment, silence returns. I find myself smiling, the tension easing from my shoulders.
“Not bad,” I say. “Looks like the last two weeks of training paid off.”
Koen wipes his sword on his sleeve, eyes glinting in the dim light. The faintest curve of a smile tugs at his lips. “I had a good teacher.”
I hesitate, instantly aware of how close he is. “I suppose you did,” I murmur.
We continue on, weaving between broken columns and half-collapsed archways. The sky above is a dull gray, and the air gets colder the longer we walk, yet for the first time in I can’tremember how long, I feel calm. Safe, even. Most surprisingly, I realize I’m not thinking about Kallan. My chest tightens at the thought, but not in the same crushing way it normally does.
I glance sideways at Koen. He’s quiet now, scanning our path ahead, water swirling around his legs. His hair is damp, clinging to his face, but there is a steadiness to him that makes me want to keep looking.
Gods, how have I not noticed exactly how beautiful he is?His gold eyes, sharp jawline traced with a shadow of dark stubble, the way the light reflects off his onyx hair when the breeze catches it. The way his muscles shift under his fighting leathers as he moves—biceps tensing, shoulders rolling with effortless strength, every motion precise.
My stomach does a somersault.No.Focus, I tell myself.Don’t look.But my eyes betray me anyway, drinking in the way his torso flexes with every careful step.Why am I noticing these things?I shouldn’t be noticing them. I don’t want to be noticing them.I shake my head sharply, as if the motion can physically push the thoughts away.
I scold myself silently, a familiar knot of guilt tightening in my chest. I don’t like him. At least, I shouldn’t. Right? Yet, there it is. That pang in my chest that refuses to go away. I force my gaze back to the rippling water at my feet, to the gray sky overhead, anywhere that isn’t on him—willing the heat in my cheeks and the rapid thrum of my pulse to retreat.Focus. Don’t think like this.
“You know,” he says lightly, breaking the quiet, “for someone who acts like you don’t like me, you seem to be enjoying my company an awful lot.”
Heat rises in my cheeks instantly. “I’m—That’s not—”
He grins, bright and entirely too pleased that he caught me staring.
By the time the light begins to fade, we have found shelter in the remains of a watchtower, its upper levels long gone but its stone base still sturdy. The wind sweeps in from the open, biting against my skin. I set down my pack and wrap my arms around myself, but the cold still sinks in, gnawing at my fingers and nose.
“It’s going to be a cold night,” Koen says, sitting down against the stone wall. He watches me for a moment before adding, “Maybe we should…sleep close for warmth.”
I shoot him a look. “That isnotnecessary.”
“Isn’t it?” He arches a brow. “You’re already shivering.”
“I am not.” I am.
“Fine. Freeze, then.” He leans back casually, as though he doesn’t care either way, but a faint smirk tugs at his lips. “Though, just so you know,” he adds lightly, “I don’t bite…” His eyes meet mine withquiet intensity. “...unless provoked.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I quickly look away. Gritting my teeth, I sit and hug my knees, determined to prove him wrong. I can’t—won’t—admit I want the warmth, want the proximity. My fingers dig into the cold stone floor as I turn toward my pack, pretending to organize it while my heart betrays me with every beat.
He doesn’t move, but his smirk widens as his eyes follow me. “You know,” he says softly, “you could just lean a little closer. I promise I won’t take advantage.”
I snort, though it comes out more as a choked breath thana laugh. “I don’t need your warmth, Koen.”
“Is that right?” He tilts his head, voice teasing, the barest hint of amusement in the air. “Your teeth say otherwise.”
I stubbornly tug my knees closer to my chest again. “I said, I’m fine.”
“Mm-hmm.” He hums, unconvinced, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he leans closer a fraction, close enough that I can feel the faint heat radiating from him, and sighs softly. “Suit yourself. But the cold isn’t going anywhere, and I’m rather good company if you change your mind.”
I stay rigid, willing my body to obey reason. But the warmth of him so near, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way the shadows flicker across his face…it’s hypnotic. My resolve begins to crumble, and the idea of leaning against him starts to seem acceptable.
Cursing under my breath, I scoot closer, resting my back against his side. His arm comes down around my shoulders almost immediately, and though I probably should, I don’t move away. The warmth seeps in, grounding me.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I murmur, the words tasting bitter, yet undeniably true.
“Of course not,” he replies, his voice low. I can hear the smile in it, like he doesn’t believe me.
Silence settles between us again, but it’s oddly comfortable. Outside, the water laps against the stones, and above, the faint groan of the wind fills the space.
