Chapter Seven
Saphira's POV
The fire had burned low, painting the cabin in muted shades of amber and shadow. My body was tired, but my mind refused to rest. I replayed the fight over and over, every snarl, every flash of teeth, every moment his body shielded mine. No one had ever done that for me before,fought like their life depended on my survival. No one had bled for me. And yet, he had.
Why?
I sat at the edge of the bed, restless. Kieran lay on his back, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, his features relaxed in sleep. The monster was gone, for now. What remained was something different,something that left a knot in my chest I couldn't untangle.
But where was I supposed to sleep? The floor was unwelcoming, the cold seeping through the wooden boards. Outside, the forest sang with distant howls, a reminder that we were far from safe. My instincts told me not to wander, not to put space between myself and the one creature who had proven he'd protect me.
Still, lying beside him felt… wrong. Dangerous. Tempting.
I hesitated, then finally let myself slip beneath the blanket, careful to keep to my edge of the bed. My back stiffened, as though invisible walls could keep me safe. I shut my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep, but every nerve was on edge, every breath deliberate.
Then it happened.
The mattress dipped, and a warmth pressed against me. His arm slid around my waist, slow but purposeful, his hand resting firmly as though it belonged there.
My eyes snapped open. My heart thundered.
His body radiated heat like a furnace, wrapping around me, anchoring me. His scent,wild pine, earth, and smoke—flooded my senses until I couldn't think straight.
I told myself to move, to slip away before he woke and made things worse. But I didn't. Instead, I froze, breath caught in my chest, caught between fear and something far more dangerous—want.
His fingers twitched slightly, tightening against me, and the sound of his heartbeat filled my ears. Strong, steady, powerful. I shut my eyes and cursed myself silently. Don't read into it. Don't imagine what it would feel like if this were real.
And yet… I did. I wondered what it would be like if his arm never left my waist. If his lips pressed where his breath now warmed my neck. If his body was mine to lean on.
A sharp pang of longing clawed at me, and I bit my lip until the sting distracted me. He couldn't know. He could never know.
Eventually, sleep claimed me, but not without the weight of his presence burning into me, searing me with a truth I wasn't ready to admit.
---
Morning came with a stare.
When my eyes blinked open, the first thing I saw were his,golden, molten, and locked on me. He was awake. Worse, he was watching me as though I were his morning sun, his gaze unyielding.
Heat rushed up my face, and I shifted back instinctively, but his hand was still at my waist, holding me there.
"Good morning, little wolf," he murmured, voice rough, low, dangerously intimate. "Sleep well?"
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to look away. "You should… let go." My voice cracked, betraying me.
Instead of releasing me, his other hand lifted lazily, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His knuckles grazed my cheek, leaving fire in their wake.
"Don't tell me you didn't like it," he teased, his lips tilting into the faintest smirk. "You looked far too comfortable."
"I wasn't" I began, but faltered when he tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, reading me too easily.
"You dreamt," he said softly, a statement, not a question.
My stomach flipped. "W-what?"
"You whispered my name." His smirk deepened, wolfish, infuriating. He leaned closer, close enough that his breath brushed against my ear. "Tell me, Saphira… what exactly did you dream of?"
I sat up too fast, clutching the blanket like a shield. "You're impossible!"
His laugh rumbled low, warm, and unbearably smug. "That wasn't a denial."
I glared at him, but it only seemed to amuse him more. He stretched out across the bed, hands folding behind his head as though he owned not just the bed, but the air I breathed.
"You're insufferable," I muttered, clutching the blanket tighter.
"And yet," he said smoothly, "you're still here."
I bit my lip, looking away. My heart betrayed me, racing far too quickly, loud enough I feared he could hear it. His kind always could.
I stood abruptly, needing distance, but as I reached for the door, his voice stopped me.
"Leaving so soon?" His tone was teasing, but layered with something sharper, something that made me pause.
"I need… space."
flooded my senses until I couldn't think straight.
I told myself to move, to slip away before he woke and made things worse. But I didn't. Instead, I froze, breath caught in my chest, caught between fear and something far more dangerous,want.
His fingers twitched slightly, tightening against me, and the sound of his heartbeat filled my ears. Strong, steady, powerful. I shut my eyes and cursed myself silently. Don't read into it. Don't imagine what it would feel like if this were real.
And yet… I did. I wondered what it would be like if his arm never left my waist. If his lips pressed where his breath now warmed my neck. If his body was mine to lean on.
A sharp pang of longing clawed at me, and I bit my lip until the sting distracted me. He couldn't know. He could never know.
Eventually, sleep claimed me, but not without the weight of his presence burning into me, searing me with a truth I wasn't ready to admit.
---
Morning came with a stare.
When my eyes blinked open, the first thing I saw were his,golden, molten, and locked on me. He was awake. Worse, he was watching me as though I were his morning sun, his gaze unyielding.
Heat rushed up my face, and I shifted back instinctively, but his hand was still at my waist, holding me there.
"Good morning, little wolf," he murmured, voice rough, low, dangerously intimate. "Sleep well?"
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to look away. "You should… let go." My voice cracked, betraying me.
Instead of releasing me, his other hand lifted lazily, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His knuckles grazed my cheek, leaving fire in their wake.
"Don't tell me you didn't like it," he teased, his lips tilting into the faintest smirk. "You looked far too comfortable."
"I wasn't" I began, but faltered when he tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, reading me too easily.
"You dreamt," he said softly, a statement, not a question.
My stomach flipped. "W-what?"
"You whispered my name." His smirk deepened, wolfish, infuriating. He leaned closer, close enough that his breath brushed against my ear. "Tell me, Saphira… what exactly did you dream of?"
I sat up too fast, clutching the blanket like a shield. "You're impossible!"
His laugh rumbled low, warm, and unbearably smug. "That wasn't a denial."
I glared at him, but it only seemed to amuse him more. He stretched out across the bed, hands folding behind his head as though he owned not just the bed, but the air I breathed.
"You're insufferable," I muttered, clutching the blanket tighter.
"And yet," he said smoothly, "you're still here."
I bit my lip, looking away. My heart betrayed me, racing far too quickly, loud enough I feared he could hear it. His kind always could.
I stood abruptly, needing distance, but as I reached for the door, his voice stopped me.
"Leaving so soon?" His tone was teasing, but layered with something sharper, something that made me pause.
"I need… space."
The bed creaked. My heart jolted as I heard him rise. His footsteps were unhurried, but deliberate, until the shadow of his frame loomed across mine.
Before I could turn the handle, his hand pressed flat against the door above my shoulder, caging me in. His body was close,too close,heat searing through the thin barrier of air that remained between us.
"Space?" His voice rumbled against my spine. "That's what you think you need?"
I forced myself to look over my shoulder, but that was a mistake. His face was right there, close enough to steal my breath. His golden eyes burned with something untamed, something I wasn't sure I wanted to escape.
"Kieran…" My voice broke, barely a whisper.
His lips curved, dangerous and slow. "Tell me, little wolf. Did you really want to leave… Or were you hoping I'd stop you?"
My chest rose and fell too quickly, heat flooding every inch of me. I shook my head, though my body betrayed me by not moving an inch farther away. "You're playing with fire."
"Good," he murmured, leaning in until his breath warmed my cheek. "Because fire is the only thing strong enough to remake you."
The silence stretched, taut and trembling. My lips parted, though no words came out. His gaze dropped, lingering just a little too long on my mouth.
And then
A sharp knock rattled the door, shattering the moment.
"Your Majesty?" It was Lucas, his voice clipped, urgent. "We have news."
Kieran didn't move immediately. His eyes stayed locked on mine, his presence caging me in, making it clear that if it hadn't been for the interruption, something else entirely would have happened.
At last, he pulled back just enough for me to breathe, though his smirk lingered. "Saved by the knock."
My knees weakened, but I forced myself to glare at him. "You're unbearable."
"And yet," he repeated softly, eyes gleaming, "you're still here."