If someone had told Cherion back in his original world, back when his biggest problem was a dead phone battery or a late bus, that his 20XX bingo card would include "Trapped in a cave with a shirtless, cursed Duke while a snow storm screams outside," he'd have laughed in their face.
And there he was. Sitting in a gods-forsaken hole in the wall, half-naked, pressed against a man who looked like he'd been sculpted out of marble and had bad intentions.
Honestly? The absurdity of it was almost more suffocating than the cold.
Cherion shifted his weight, his bare skin sticking slightly to the frost-slicked rock. He could feel the radiant heat coming off Zarius, the man was like a furnace made of muscle, but even that felt like a cruel tease given the circumstances. They were supposed to be seeking warmth. Basic survival, right? But the tension... God, the tension was thick enough to drag his thoughts straight into the "let's not unpack that" category.
What is my life right now?
