Aveline could feel it... that familiar warmth of him, the scent of him enveloping her, the firm heat of his chest beneath her palms, the gentleness of his touch she had grown used to.

She pressed her lips to his.

And there it was... his arm wrapping around her back, drawing her closer, his warmth spreading through her like something she had been craving without knowing it. He didn’t push her down the way he sometimes did.

Instead, his hand came to her chin, firm but not harsh, tilting her face up. She felt the heat of his fingers, the quiet control in his touch, and it made her breath catch.

Then he slipped his finger inside her mouth.

His touch lingered, deliberate, almost searching, like he was trying to understand her through every reaction she gave him.

A soft sound slipped from her lips, unbidden, as the sensation sent a shiver through her, her body responding before her mind could keep up.

And the moment that fragile control broke... His lips were on hers again.

This time, deeper. Claiming. Unrestrained.

The kiss stole her breath, overwhelming in a way that left no room for thought. He held her there, close and unyielding, as if he had finally given in to something he had been holding back for far too long.

Aveline clung to him, her arms tightening around his shoulders as she leaned into him, losing herself in the sensation of being held, of being wanted.

She didn’t even notice when her nightgown slipped away.

All she knew was the way he lowered her onto the bed, his touch careful but unyielding, as though he had already decided she wasn’t escaping him tonight.

"Aveline..."

Her name left his lips like a low vow, rough and filled with something that made her entire body tremble.

She stared up at him, breath unsteady, her fingers curling instinctively. His lips parted slightly, glistening in the dim light, and the next moment, he pinned both her hands above her head with one hand.

His other hand moved slowly—down her cheek, along the curve of her neck, making her shiver at the light, deliberate touch... then lower, to her shoulder... tracing a path that made her breath hitch as it continued down to her waist.

"Theron..." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

His name was the only thing she could manage as his thumb grazed her sensitive peak.

He kissed her again, silencing everything else, leaving no room for thought; only feeling. His touch grew more insistent, his presence overwhelming in the way it wrapped around her senses, leaving her breathless beneath him.

Her body arched slightly at his touch, her fingers tightening in his grasp as soft sounds slipped past her lips, swallowed by his kiss.

"Little Hare..." he murmured, his voice low, almost strained, as he intertwined his fingers with hers.

Aveline’s breath came unevenly as she reached for him again, and this time Theron did not let distance remain between them at all. He stayed close, steady, and warm, as if holding her was both his weakness and his answer.

And in that candlelit silence, where everything else faded away, she forgot she ever needed to be afraid.

Only his warmth remained around her... and slowly, gradually, it grew hotter and hotter until...

The world around them seemed to dim, the edges softening, blurring as though the moment itself was slipping away.

Aveline reached for him again... And the warmth fractured.

Aveline opened her eyes.

It took her a moment to realize where she was. She was in Kael’s mansion, in a guest room. She looked down at herself and saw that she was still in her gown. She had not changed last night.

She sat up and rubbed her face.

That... Was that a dream?

Did I dream that Theron and I...

No wonder something felt off and I learned nothing new from it.

She let out a long breath and sat cross-legged on the bed, then froze as the memory returned all at once: Theron’s face in that dream, the way he had held her, the warmth of him so close...

Her face burned.

With a frustrated sound, she flopped forward onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow, clutching her abdomen that still had mild cramps.

What is wrong with me?

Her cheeks felt on fire. She did not want to stay there and wallow in embarrassment, so she forced herself upright, washed up, and changed.

Not long after, there was a knock on the door.

It was Kael.

He told her to come with him to the training grounds.

-----

Theron woke with a sharp gasp, his throat working as he swallowed air that felt too thin for his lungs. A bead of sweat slipped down the column of his neck as his gaze fixed on the ceiling, unfocused at first, then slowly clearing.

It took him a few moments to understand where he was—his room, his bed, the familiar weight of reality settling back over him.

But the dream...

Aveline.

Her lips on his. Her body beneath his, soft, yielding... alive in a way that clung to him even now. The memory lingered not as something imagined, but as something felt.

His hand came to rest against his bare chest, his pulse still racing beneath his palm.

Aveline... warm, breathless... the quiet sounds she made, the way she moved against him—teasing, answering, drawing him deeper.

How could that have been a dream when he felt the texture of her hair on his fingertips?

The dampness against his skin pulled him from the haze. He pushed the sheets aside and glanced down, exhaling a low, frustrated breath.

Of course.

Sitting up, he leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees, fingers dragging through his hair as if he could shake the remnants of her from his mind. The morning light spilled across his back, tracing the tension in his muscles, the rigid lines of restraint that still hadn’t eased.

A rough sound left his throat.

’I missed you...’

Her voice.

It echoed through him—soft, aching, real. The ghost of her lips still lingered on his; her warmth wrapped around him like something he had no right to hold onto. Her scent, her eyes...

Too vivid. Too precise. Too real to dismiss.

He didn’t even remember sleeping deeply. So... how could something so fleeting feel more tangible than waking life?

’Theron...’

His jaw tightened.

Again.

The mere memory of her voice sent a fresh surge through him, his body betraying him without mercy. He glanced down, irritation flashing across his face before dissolving into a weary sigh.

She had felt him. Back in the Vantaris mansion, she had known, her voice trembling with something between uncertainty and need. And he had still held back. Stayed hidden.

Like a coward.

Pushing himself to his feet, he strode past the divider, intent on washing away both the evidence and the weakness. As expected, everything had been prepared—the basin filled, clean cloths set out, his clothes folded with meticulous care.

Yet none of it settled him.

His hand came up to the back of his neck, fingers pressing into the tension there as his steps slowed. Without meaning to, his thoughts circled back... to her.

Should he go to her?

The question lingered longer than it should have.

He had never cared when others called him cruel. It had never felt true. Not to him. But now...

For the first time, the thought unsettled him.

Because if there was even a fraction of truth to it, then it was she who bore the weight of it. The one person who...

His expression darkened.

...loved him more than anything.

Aveline.

"Oh. You’re awake..."

The unfamiliar voice cut through his thoughts.

Theron turned sharply, instinctively reaching for the robe as he covered himself, his body tensing with sudden alertness.

Who dared to enter his chambers so early in the morning?

The moment his eyes fell on the woman standing there, whatever remained of his earlier haze vanished completely.

His expression hardened.

Roselyn Caelvaris, his betrothed.