Aria's POV
The next morning came too soon.
I woke with the taste of last night still on my lips—the kiss in the library, Ivan's hands cupping my face like I was something precious. My heart had raced then, and it raced again now, just remembering.
I dressed quickly, pulling on my usual leggings and tunic, lacing my boots with fingers that felt a little unsteady. I hadn't slept well, replaying the kiss over and over: Ivan's mouth on mine, his hands framing my face, the way he'd groaned softly when I kissed him back.
I told myself it didn't change anything.
I was wrong.
I reached the training grounds expecting to see him already there—leaning against the post, arms crossed, that crooked smile ready to greet me.
He wasn't.
The clearing was empty.
A young scout waited near the edge, shifting nervously from foot to foot. When he saw me, he hurried over, bowing quickly.
"Luna," he said. "Beta Ivan asked me to give you this."
He handed me a small folded note.
I opened it.
Training postponed until further notice.
—Ivan.
My stomach dropped.
I knew exactly why.
The kiss had happened. We'd crossed the line we'd both been skirting for weeks. And now Ivan—loyal, honorable Ivan—was pulling away before it went any further.
I folded the note carefully, tucking it into my pocket.
"Thank you," I told the scout.
He bowed again and left.
I stood there a moment longer, staring at the empty grounds.
No training.
Just me.
And the long list of Luna duties waiting.
I turned back toward the manor, heading straight for Cara's office.
She looked up from her ledger when I entered.
"Luna. You're early. Shouldn't you be training?"
"Ivan canceled," I said, keeping my voice even. "No session today."
Cara's eyes flicked over me sharply, she simply nodded.
"Very well. There's still time before midday duties. Would you like to rest?"
I shook my head. "No. I'd rather start now."
She studied me for a beat, then handed me the folded list without comment.
"Here are today's duties."
I scanned it quickly:
Morning: Infirmary rounds; check on recovering scouts, distribute fresh herbs
Midday: Oversee distribution of winter blankets and cloaks to border families
Afternoon: Visit elder council; listen to concerns, report back
Evening: Join pack meal; represent Luna, mingle
I folded the parchment and tucked it away.
"I'll start with the infirmary," I said.
Cara gave a small nod. "They'll be glad to see you."
The infirmary was quiet when I arrived. A few cots were occupied—scouts with bandaged limbs, an elder recovering from a cough.
I moved from bed to bed, offering water, adjusting pillows, listening to quiet thanks.
But my mind wasn't fully here.
It kept drifting back to the library.
The way Ivan had pulled me close, his mouth finding mine hungrily. The taste of him, the heat of his hands sliding up my back, fingers tangling in my hair.
My cheeks warmed just thinking about it.
I pressed cool fingers to my face, trying to focus.
One of the scouts—a young man with a stitched gash on his forearm—noticed.
"You all right, Luna?" he asked.
I smiled quickly. "Fine. Just… thinking."
He grinned. "About someone?"
I laughed despite myself. "Maybe."
He winked. "Good. You deserve it."
I moved on, heart lighter for a moment.
But the memory of Ivan's kiss stayed with me all morning.
I tried to focus on the infirmary rounds. I smiled at the scouts, changed bandages, passed out fresh salves, listened to their small complaints. But underneath it all, heat pooled low in my belly, constant and distracting.
Every time I bent over a cot, the brush of fabric against my skin reminded me of his hands—how they'd roamed my body while he kissed me.
My thighs pressed together involuntarily. A flush crept up my neck.
By the time I finished the last cot, I was wet—achingly, embarrassingly so. The seam of my leggings rubbed against me with every step, sending little sparks through my core.
I couldn't stay.
I excused myself quickly, murmuring something about needing a moment, and hurried back to my chambers.
The door closed behind me with a soft click.
I leaned against it, breathing hard.
My hand slipped between my legs almost without thought, pressing firmly against the damp fabric. A whimper escaped me.
I crossed to the bed, shedding my skirt and leggings in a rush. I lay back, legs spreading, fingers sliding through slick folds. I was soaked—dripping with need.
I circled my clit slowly at first, then faster, rougher. In my mind, it was Ivan—his mouth on my neck, his hands spreading me open, his thick length pushing inside me, filling me completely. I imagined him above me, eyes dark with want, whispering my name as he thrust deep.
My hips bucked. Fingers plunged inside, curling, stroking that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes. My other hand worked my clit in frantic circles.
I came hard—back arching, a choked cry tearing from my throat, walls pulsing around my fingers as pleasure crashed through me in waves.
When it faded, I lay panting, slick fingers resting on my thigh.
But the relief was fleeting.
Because now that the haze had cleared, the ache returned—not just between my legs, but deeper.
Ivan had canceled training indefinitely.
Because of the kiss.
Because of me.
I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing him again—of days stretching into weeks without his teasing smile, his steady hands, his quiet way of making me feel seen.
I dressed quickly—simple skirt, blouse—and left my chambers before I could talk myself out of it.
I went straight to his room.
The door was ajar.
I pushed it open.
Ivan was there.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on knees, head in his hands.
He looked up sharply when I entered.
Surprise flashed across his face.
"Aria…"
I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.
"Why are you ignoring me, Ivan?" My voice cracked. "You canceled training. You've been avoiding me since last night. Is it the kiss? Because if it is—"
He stood slowly, hands flexing at his sides.
"It's not that simple," he said quietly.
"Then make it simple."
He looked at me—really looked—and I saw the war in his eyes.