Mira sat down next to the flickering fire, her back pressed against the rough stone wall of the abandoned ruin, her knees drawn up to her chest as worry etched deep lines across her beautiful face.
The flames danced in her wide, anxious eyes, reflecting the turmoil inside her—thoughts of her family back home, lost in the chaos of whatever hellish ordeal had brought us here.
I sat opposite her, leaning against the opposite wall, my gaze lingering on her form in the dim light.
She was stunning, even in distress: her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her full lips parted slightly in thought, and her body clad in those tight jeans and a fitted jacket that hugged her curves just right.
I glanced down at my shoes, noticing the swarm of ants still there waiting for my command.
A wicked idea sparked in my mind, fueled by the heat of the fire and the forbidden thrill of the moment.
