CON

e visit to Blake had drained more out of me than I cared to admit. My head ached,

. For a moment, I just stared at the ceiling, watching the faint shadows from the tor

ock broke t

familiar voice said s

n," I r

always had - a kind of peace that followed her like a scent. Since my mother's passin

ur honest opinion about Ve

th. "I see the way you look at her," she teased lightly. "She'll m

't give compliments easily. If she spoke well of Ve

That will be all," I

nd quietly left. Her footsteps faded down t

I saw her - Vera. The way she stood, composed yet uncertain. The way her eyes held str

t for morning. But m

harpened my thoughts. I reached for my fragrance oil - pine, warm and steady - and dabbed a little al

oolish. Maybe both. But I couldn't res

light of torches. My steps echoed faintly on the stone, steady and rhythmic, almost in ti

oor, my pulse was wild. I h

oor opened - as if she

lower than I meant it to be. "

ntly. "It's fine," sh

and fresh wood lingered in the air. Moonlight poured in through the window, wash

chair beside her bed. Her tone was calm, but

ered faintly in the light, catching on the edges of her shoulders. She

, resting lightly at her waist. I leaned down, searching her eyes for refu

d for a second, everything else - the walls, the silence, the weight of my position

froze. I wanted to stop, but my heart beat too loudly to think.

tion struck me. She wa

slowly, breathing hard, guilt coiling in my ches

. Not fear, not judgment. Relief. That l

my voice heavier now. "I di

r bed. My pulse was still errat

r - maybe even anger - but instead, she smi

regretted it," she whisper

ed at her, unsure if I was hearing right. She wasn

ted. The tension, the do

in was warm, grounding. "Please," I said, my voice steady now,

. It wasn't even a

ly, her voice small

in the air, so

time in a long while, I felt peace. The sto

sound was the faint crackle of the torches o

her gaze. "Get some rest," I

made it hard to leave. I turned toward the door, my hand

urn

ed her lips gently to mine - a quick, uncer

was something else - quiet, br

cheeks flushed. "Good ni

oment. Then I nodded, managing a

colder than before. My pulse hadn't slowed

on my lips, stubborn in my mind. I sat on the edge of my bed,

tried, I knew I wou

of her didn't just stir me - it settle

scared me more than