The departure from the Shrine was a blur of silver moonlight and the rhythmic, bone-deep thrum of a predator in motion. Eris felt her whole world took a pause and stared blankly into space as Roy, now fully shifted into his obsidian panther form, carried her effortlessly across his broad, muscular back.
Eris felt the tension leave her body, her soul, as she just let him have his way. Following every command from every direction that was given to her.
She mindlessly clutched the bundle, Uri to her chest with one arm, keeping him safe and with her other hand, her fingers dug into the thick, velvet fur of Roy's neck. The strength of him was terrifying; he moved through the dense snow covered ground not like a beast, but like a shadow dancing under the moonlight.
High above them, perched upon a jagged limestone cliff that overlooked the valley, a figure stood motionless. The pine trees behind him acted as a jagged shroud, their heavy, snow-laden boughs obscuring his silhouette from any casual glance. However, unbeknownst to the small assembly, this was no casual observer.
As the group moved into the basin of the valley, the figure leaned forward. His eyes were not human; they were the brilliant, searing yellow of a dying star, the pupils contracted into razor-thin vertical slits that pierced the gloom. He watched the way the black panther adjusted its gait to cradle the woman on its back, the way the soldiers moved in a protective diamond formation around their commander.
A long, weary sigh escaped the stranger's lips, trailing into a mist of white vapour in the biting air.
"Oh, Eris," the man whispered, his voice a melodic friction that seemed to vibrate against the needles of the pines. "What have you done..."
He watched until the black speck of the panther became nothing more than pinpricks against the vast, bruising purple of the twilight. The sun had finally surrendered, turning day into a cold, uncompromising night.
Roy felt the weight of those yellow eyes. Even as he loped through the frost-cracked heather, the short hairs along his spine stood on end. He was a 5-Star General for a reason; his instincts were tuned to the frequency of malice. He didn't turn his head, to do so would signal his awareness to the watcher but he lengthened his stride, his powerful haunches bunching and releasing as he pushed his soldiers to quicken the pace.
Beneath him, he felt Eris stiffen. She had no tactical training, no warrior's intuition, yet she felt the psychic pressure of the gaze from the cliffside. She let out a small, jagged breath and pulled Uri tighter against her heart. The baby, sensing the sudden spike in his aunt's cortisol, whimpered softly in his sleep, his tiny human hand clutching a lock of her hair.
Roy felt a pang of something uncomfortably close to guilt. He could feel the fine tremors racking Eris's frame. He assumed it was the cold, her beautiful but painstakingly thin dress was never meant for a forced march through a mountain pass, but they had no choice. It was time to go.
For the first time in many seasons, Roy felt a flicker of disappointment in the orders he carried. The King's command was absolute: Bring the Margay Princess to the capital. The prize for the best of Claw Kingdom, but looking at the way she clung to the cub, he realised he wasn't just transporting a political asset; he was uprooting a living, breathing and fragile female from her home and all that she has known.
To compensate, Roy tapped into the elemental fire smouldering in his core. He didn't let the flames erupt, but he allowed his body temperature to rise, radiating a steady, unnatural heat through his fur. He focused his intent, warming the very envelope of air that surrounded Eris and the child, creating a pocket of summer amidst the winter trek.
They travelled for hours, the only sounds being the crunch of snow under the soldiers' boots and the occasional snap of a frozen branch. It was well past midnight when Roy finally signalled for camp. They had reached a sheltered hollow beneath a stand of ancient oaks, the ground relatively flat and shielded from the wind.
The transition from beast back to "soft form" was always a jarring sight, but Eris watched with wide eyes as the massive panther rippled and lengthened, the black fur receding to reveal the towering, broad-shouldered male. Roy stood in the snow, seemingly indifferent to the cold, and immediately began barking orders.
"Clear the ground! Build a fire and peg down the tents! We rest here tonight."
Eris slid down from a stone where she had been resting and caught the eye of Bryant. The young soldier, usually so eager and hovering, was currently shovelling a pile of snow to clear a patch for the fire.
Remembering his previous kindness, Eris offered him a tired, appreciative smile.
Bryant's reaction was instantaneous and cold. He glanced at her bruised eye, then at the baby in her arms, and let out a sharp, dismissive huff. He turned his back on her completely, walking off toward the line of trees to collect more fire wood without a word.
The rejection stung more than the frost. She was no longer "Healer Frey," the mysterious beauty to be courted; she was the enemy, the liar, the fallen Princess.
The camp rose around her with military efficiency. Tents were pitched with rhythmic precision, the heavy canvas snapping in the wind. The soldiers worked in silence, their movements practiced. At the centre of the circle, the largest tent was erected, a pavilion of thick, dark leather reinforced with iron poles. Inside, Eris could see soldiers laying down layers of thick, fluffy furs, feral bear and wild wolf pelts that looked warm enough to swallow a person whole.
Eris stood near the crackling fire, the orange light dancing in her honey-brown eyes. She looked down at Uri, who had woken up. He was remarkably calm, his large, curious eyes reflecting the flames. He reached up, his tiny fingers stroking Eris's cheek, tracing the line of the bruise Roy had noticed earlier. He babbled a soft, nonsensical sound and tugged at a stray curl of her hair.
"We'll be okay, Uri," she whispered, though the lie felt heavy on her tongue. "I won't let them take you."
"A bold promise for someone currently standing in the middle of an armed camp."
Eris gasped, spinning around to find Roy standing just inches behind her.
He had moved with that impossible, feline silence. In his hand, he held a steaming wooden mug. The scent of the 'amber brew' sweet honey, bitter herbs, and woodsmoke, wafted toward her.
"Drink," he commanded, his voice softer than before. "It will keep you warm for the night ahead. The temperature will drop again before dawn."
Eris took the mug, "Thank you," she whispered, her fingers brushing gently against his. The contact sent a jolt of electricity up her arm, one she tried desperately to ignore.
She took a sip, the warm liquid coating her throat in a soothing warmth that seemed to settle her jagged nerves.
"Thank you," she murmured again, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over her. Then, looking toward the smaller tents, she asked, "Where shall Uri and I be situated?"
Roy looked at her, his purple eyes unreadable in the firelight. "You won't be in the soldiers' quarters. You will be sleeping in my tent."
Eris nearly dropped the mug. "Your... your tent? Surely that isn't necessary. I can stay with the other females or-"
"There are no other females in this unit, Eris," Roy interrupted, his tone shifting into cold hard tone. "You are a high-value prisoner and a flight risk. More importantly, you are under my personal protection. I will monitor you at all times to guarantee you don't try to run off into the woods to freeze to death, and to ensure no one, within this camp or outside of it, touches what belongs to the King."
The word 'belongs' made her skin crawl, but it was the thought of the 'close quarters' that sent her heart into a frantic gallop.
"I... I can't," she whispered, her mind racing.
"You can, and you will," Roy said, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder and steering her toward the entrance. "The furs have been laid. Go."
Inside the tent, the air was thick with the scent of cedar and Roy's own intoxicating musk. The floor was a sea of soft furs, and a small charcoal brazier in the corner cast a dim, red glow over the space. It was intimate. Too intimate.
Eris felt a dizzying cocktail of anxiety and a shameful, burgeoning lust. She was a Princess who had spent her life guarded and chaste, and now she was to share a bed of furs with the most dangerous male she had ever come across. She could hear her own pulse thumping in her ears, a frantic drumbeat of what if?
She sat on the edge of the furs, clutching Uri to her chest as if he were a shield. A few moments later, the tent flap opened, and Roy stepped inside. He didn't say a word. He began to unbuckle his leather chest piece, the rhythmic clink of metal on metal sounding like a countdown in the quiet tent.
Uri, however, seemed entirely unbothered. Seeing Roy, the baby let out a joyful squeal and reached out his arms. Roy paused, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He finished removing his armour, the leather dropping to the floow in a heap, he stood in only his light tunics, and knelt on the furs.
"He is awake," Roy stated, his chest rumbling with a slight growl of disapproval.
To Eris's shock, Uri crawled out of her lap and plopped himself down right in the middle of the furs, looking expectantly at both of them. The child was the perfect buffer, yet his presence only highlighted the domesticity of the scene.
"Lie down, Eris," Roy said. It wasn't a request.
She obeyed, stiff as a board, laying on the far edge of the furs. Uri immediately snuggled in against her side, but he kept one hand reaching out for Roy.
Then, the air shifted.
Roy didn't stay in his human form. He knew that to keep them truly warm in the sub-zero temperatures, he needed his beast's coat. With a soft sigh of shifting bone, the black panther returned. He didn't pace; he moved with extreme care, circling the woman and the child before settling down.
He wrapped his massive, heavy body around them in a protective crescent. His tail draped over Eris's waist like a weighted velvet rope, and his large head rested near her shoulder, his steady, hot breath puffing against the back of her neck. He was a living wall of fur and heat, shielding them from the world.
Uri was asleep within minutes, comforted by the dual scents of his kin and the predator he had claimed as his own.
Eris remained wide-eyed and awake. Every time she moved, she felt the ripple of Roy's muscles beneath his skin. She could feel the vibration of his deep, rhythmic purr, a sound that was supposed to be soothing but felt like a low-frequency seduction. She was restless, her body humming with a tension she couldn't name, trapped between her tribe's invader and the warmth of her nephew.
Outside, the wind howled, but inside the tent, the only sound was the steady breathing of a predator and his restless prize.