The stars hung low that night, as if the sky itself was watching.
Aiden walked quietly through the edge of the camp, carrying fresh linen to the infirmary tent. It had become his moment of peace—between the noise of soldiers and the distant stares. But tonight, even the shadows seemed to follow him.
When he entered the infirmary, he wasn't alone.
Two soldiers sat on the edge of a cot, whispering. They looked up when Aiden came in.
"You're working late again," one of them said, smiling.
"Orders from Commander Shinomi," Aiden replied evenly.
The second man stood up, stepping a little too close. "Always running errands for him, huh? You sure he just wants errands?"
Aiden's grip on the linen tightened.
Before he could speak, a sharp voice cut through the tent flaps like a blade.
"Is there a problem?"
Shinomi stood at the entrance, cloak billowing behind him, eyes like ice.
The soldiers stiffened immediately.
"N-no, Commander," one stammered. "We were just helping—"
"I didn't assign you to the infirmary."
They scrambled out, avoiding Shinomi's gaze.
The tent fell into silence.
Aiden stood frozen, still holding the linen.
Shinomi stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "You shouldn't walk alone at night."
"I can handle myself," Aiden said softly.
Shinomi's gaze dropped to the ribbon tied at Aiden's wrist, then to the strands of hair falling over his pale cheek.
"You've become… noticeable."
Aiden lifted his chin. "Is that a problem?"
Shinomi didn't answer. Instead, he reached out suddenly—his gloved hand brushing back a lock of Aiden's hair.
The touch was brief, but Aiden felt it down to his bones.
"You're not the same as when you arrived," Shinomi murmured. "You were all teeth and fire."
"I'm still fire," Aiden said, his voice low. "I've just learned how to burn quietly."
A pause.
Then Shinomi turned away. "Go back to your tent. No more midnight errands."
"Yes, Commander."
But before Aiden left, Shinomi said one last thing—his back still turned.
"If anyone touches you again… I'll handle it myself."
Aiden's heart thudded.
Not because of fear.
But because, for the first time, Shinomi's voice wasn't cold.
It was possessive.
---