Elara woke slowly, her body warm and heavy.
She was tangled with Lucien. Her head rested on his bare chest, one leg thrown over his thigh, and his arm was locked tightly around her waist, holding her against him like she belonged there. The fire had burned low during the night, but his body heat still surrounded her.
His fever had broken. His skin felt cooler now, though he was still a little warm.
Elara's face burned with embarrassment as memories from last night flooded back — his mouth on her neck, his hands on her breasts, the way she had spread her legs for him and Literally nearly begged. She had wanted him so badly. And he had stopped.
She tried to pull away, but Lucien's arm tightened instinctively, keeping her in place.
"Don't move," he murmured, voice rough and low from sleep. That deep, raspy morning tone sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes opened slowly, heavy-lidded and intense, gray like storm clouds. "You're still warm."
Elara's nipples tightened against his chest from the cool morning air. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and far too aware of every inch of skin pressed to his.
Lucien noticed. His gaze dropped to her breasts, and a dry, teasing edge slipped into his voice. "Your body is more honest than your mouth, little wife."
Heat rushed to her face. She pushed at his chest, trying to create space. "You're cruel," she whispered, voice shaky with anger and embarrasment. "You could have just explained what you meant by sharing body heat. Instead you… you touched me like that, said those things, and then stopped. Why tease me if you never planned to finish it?"
Lucien's arm finally loosened, but he didn't let her go completely. He looked at her with that same half-lidded stare, calm and controlled even now. "Because you're a virgin, Elara...."
Her eyes widened slightly at his words. How did he know?
"And I won't take you for the first time in a dirty cave while we're running for our lives."
The words left her flustered and strangely touched at the same time. She didn't know what to say. Her heart was beating too fast.
Lucien sat up slowly, still a little weak from the fever. He reached for his clothes and started dressing, muscles shifting under his skin as he pulled on his shirt. Elara watched despite herself, her pulse quickening at the sight of his bare torso one last time before it disappeared under fabric.
He stood, testing his balance, refusing to show any weakness. "We need to move. The longer we stay, the easier it is for them to find us."
They left the cave together. Lucien walked ahead, steps measured and strong, but Elara could see the slight stiffness in his shoulders — he was still recovering and trying hard not to let it show.
The forest felt quieter now, but not safe. As they pushed through the trees, they spotted fresh signs that the assassins were still searching nearby: broken branches, footprints in the mud that didn't belong to them, and a faint trail of smoke rising in the distance.
Lucien's jaw tightened. He didn't say anything, but his hand brushed her elbow for a brief second — an involuntary touch — before he pulled it away and kept walking.
Elara followed, chest tight with confusion and unwanted heat.
The hunters were still out there.
And the man beside her was becoming more dangerous to her heart with every step.
_____
They walked for hours stopping at intervals to rest with no map and almost no supplies.
During the time she rest he would scout the area to make sure they were alone.
The forest stretched on endlessly, every tree looking the same. Lucien moved ahead, his steps steady but slower than usual. The fever had broken, but it had left him weaker than he wanted to admit. Elara could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way he favored his injured arm. He refused to show it.
They had only a little water left in a small canteen. Lucien took one sip and passed it to her without a word. Elara drank, then handed it back. Their fingers brushed. Neither of them commented on it.
The sky darkened suddenly. Rain started falling hard, cold and heavy. Within minutes they were soaked again.
Lucien stopped under a thick cluster of trees. "Come here."
Elara hesitated, still replaying his words from the cave — "my little whore" — said in that low, rough voice. It made her thighs clench even now, and that frustrated her more than anything. How could he turn her on so easily while staying so emotionally cold?
He didn't wait for her to move closer. He simply pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to share body heat. This time he was more controlled, distant. His hold was practical, not possessive. Still, the heat of his body cut through the rain and made her shiver for a different reason.
They stood like that for a long time, rain pouring around them. Lucien's chin rested lightly on top of her head. Elara could feel his steady heartbeat against her cheek.
"You're going to be the death of me, little wife," he muttered, voice low and dry.
He's words sent her heart racing.
Moments later the rain stopped and they continued on but Elara couldn't help but space out occasionally.
Elara slipped in the mud a few minutes later when replaying his words.
Her foot went out from under her. Lucien caught her instantly, one strong arm banding around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. For a second she was pressed tight to him again, breasts against his torso, their faces inches apart. Heat flared low in her belly.
He looked down at her with those intense gray eyes. "Careful."
Then he pulled way and kept walking like nothing happened.
By late afternoon they found an old hunter's cabin half-hidden among the trees. The door was unlocked. Inside it smelled of dust and old wood. There were two rough blankets, a few cans of food, and some matches. But someone had been here recently — the ashes in the fireplace were still warm, and a fresh boot print marked the dirt floor near the window.
Lucien wondered if it belong to the Hunter they met before Kairos was it… or maybe it belonged to one of the assassins.
Lucien checked every corner before he relaxed even a little. "We stay here tonight. You should sleep I'll take watch"
"No I can't have that" Elara mutters." I'll keep watch as well, we can do it in shifts, you are the better fighter between us you'll need to be strong enough if we are to have a fighting chance if we encounter the assassin's again"
Lucien was quiet at first but then he accepted, know she wasnt going to let things go.
"I'll take first watch you can sleep"
Lucien held her gaze for a brief moment before he yielded.
Elara nodded satisfied. She took the first watch while Lucien lay down on one of the blankets. He closed his eyes, but she could tell he wasn't fully asleep. His breathing stayed too controlled.
She watched him in the dim light. The way he protected her — pulling her from the knife twice, jumping off the cliff with her, sharing his body heat even when he was weak — didn't match the cold man who called her a tool. Why did he fight so fiercely for her if she was really nothing to him?
The question kept circling in her mind for minutes as the rain continued outside.
Lucien's eyes opened slightly. "Your turn to rest," he said quietly.
Elara lay down on the other blanket, but sleep didn't come easily. She was too aware of him across the small cabin, too aware of the heat still lingering between them.
Outside, the forest stayed dark and watchful.
The assassins were still out there.
And the man who kept saving her was becoming harder and harder to understand.