The whole day passed in a blur of warm drinks, soft laughter, and stolen glances.
It felt right—just the two of us wandering through the town, exploring, existing.
Like something had finally fallen into place.
At one point, I sighed. "You do know we should probably be planning the ambush for tomorrow instead of… whatever this is."
Raiden didn't even hesitate. "We'll have plenty of time for that when we get back." His grin was lazy, disarming. "This, my little thief, is a date."
My face heated instantly. "A—a date?"
He smirked. "Yes, Lyra. A date. Surely you've heard of them."
"I know what a date is," I muttered, trying to hide the way my stomach flipped. "I just didn't realize you knew how to go on one."
He chuckled. "Guess you'll have to tell me how I'm doing."
I tried not to smile—and failed.
We found a small café tucked between two shops, the air thick with the scent of honey and fresh bread. The warmth pulled us in. We took a booth by the window, ordered tea and cakes, and—predictably—ended up talking about everything and nothing.
Raiden tilted his head, eyes glinting. "You think Muir finally drove Revik to madness?"
"Oh, he did something," I said. "The question is whether Revik's regretting it or repressing it."
Raiden chuckled into his tea. "If Muir's involved, probably both."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You sound awfully sure."
"I've known Muir long enough to bet he's either blackmailing him or flirting with him. Possibly at the same time."
I nearly snorted tea through my nose. "Gods, I hope it's both."
We both laughed—and for the first time in forever, I felt light.
By the time the sun dipped below the rooftops, the town had transformed.
Lanterns glowed like fireflies above the streets. Music swirled through the chill evening air, mingling with laughter and the scent of mulled wine. The world felt alive again.
Raiden turned to me, something unreadable in his expression. "Want to go listen?"
I hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I'd like that."
He offered his hand, and I took it.
The melody drifted around us as we walked. Lanterns shimmered overhead, their golden reflections catching in his eyes. Then Raiden stepped toward one of the musicians, whispered something, and slipped her a coin. She nodded—and the tune shifted.
Soft. Slow. The kind of song that fills the space between heartbeats.
Before I could ask, he tugged me gently down a narrow side street, away from the crowd. The music and laughter faded behind us, replaced by the quiet hush of snow falling between lantern-lit walls.
When we reached an empty stretch of alley, he finally stopped. His silver-blue eyes met mine, glinting in the soft light.
"Now," he murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting.
And then he unfurled his wings.
I froze, breath catching as the scales caught the glow of the lanterns. He looked ethereal—dangerous and beautiful all at once. I knew what he wanted without words. My heart skipped as I mirrored him, letting my own wings spread, the air shimmering around us as they caught the light.
And then we flew.
The town fell away beneath us—the laughter, the music, the glow of lanterns. The wind rushed through my hair, snow swirling in silver threads around us. I looked over at him, laughing breathlessly. "What are we doing?"
"Just wait," he said, eyes glinting.
The air shimmered with falling snow, the lights below turning it gold. Raiden turned toward me, that rare, unguarded smile curving his lips.
"Dance with me."
I blinked. "Raiden, I don't—"
"Know how?" His grin deepened. "I know. That's why you'll follow my lead."
"I'll probably step on your feet."
He arched a brow. "We're in the sky, Lyra. I think my toes are safe."
He tilted his head, his hand still outstretched. "Trust me?"
The way he said it—it wasn't just about dancing.
It was about us.
So I took his hand.
His fingers curled around mine, warm and sure. His other hand found my waist, and just like that, we were moving—slow, easy, weightless. The wind wrapped around us like silk, carrying the faint echo of music from the town below. The world blurred away until there was nothing left but the pulse of the air beneath our wings and the steady rhythm of our hearts.
I stumbled once, and his grip tightened, steadying me.
"Relax, little thief," he murmured, a teasing smile ghosting his lips. "Dancing's just like fighting."
"You realize I was never formally trained in either," I shot back.
He chuckled, his breath brushing my cheek. "Good thing I'm a great teacher."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't hide my smile.
He spun me then, the movement smooth and dizzying, and when he pulled me back, my body collided with his. The warmth of him seeped through every inch of me. His hand rested at my back, his thumb tracing idle circles that sent my pulse racing.
"You're getting the hang of it," he said softly.
I looked up at him. "I think you're just making me look good."
He smiled, gaze flicking to my lips. "You don't need my help for that."
The air between us thickened. Electric. Unspoken. I could feel his heartbeat through the space between us.
"I don't think this counts as dancing," I whispered.
"It does," he murmured, eyes locked on mine, "if I say it does."
I laughed under my breath, letting myself fall into the rhythm—the music, the snow, him. The world below felt a lifetime away.
After a while, I asked quietly, "You planned this, didn't you?"
He smiled. "Maybe."
"You definitely did."
His thumb brushed the back of my hand. "I wanted to give you something. A night that was yours. No war. No fear. Just… you."
My throat tightened. "What about you?"
He stilled, gaze flickering with something I couldn't quite read.
"You say this is for me," I said softly, "but what do you want, Raiden?"
His fingers flexed against mine, his voice a whisper carried by the wind.
"You," he said. "I want you."
I couldn't stop myself.
I reached out and cupped his cheek. He leaned into my touch, lashes lowering as his fingers wrapped gently around my wrist.
His lips curved in the faintest smile.
My heart stumbled.
For a moment, we just hovered there—weightless, surrounded by drifting snow and the glow of lanterns—lost in each other. The world below blurred into silence, nothing existing beyond this breath between us.
Then Raiden's gaze dropped to my lips.
I barely had time to breathe before he closed the distance, his mouth finding mine.
The world melted away.
The kiss was slow—reverent. Not rushed, not desperate, but deliberate—like he was memorizing me piece by piece. The warmth of him, the faint taste of honeybread and lightning on his lips, the quiet sigh that slipped between us when I kissed him back.
His hands slid to my waist, fingers tracing along the curve where my wing met skin. The touch was feather-light—barely there—but it sent a tremor through me so sharp it stole my breath. Magic stirred in my veins, pulsing beneath my skin like storm meeting flame.
He lingered there, his thumb brushing once more along the edge of my wing, and I almost broke. The sound that rose in my throat wasn't soft—it was raw, unguarded. He drew me closer instead, grounding me in his warmth, in his steadiness, until the storm inside me quieted to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
And I let myself fall—into him, into this moment, into everything I'd been holding back.
Below us, the music swelled—soft, aching, wrapping around us like the wind.
I felt weightless in his arms.
Snow drifted through the air, catching in my hair, melting against his skin—but in that moment, there was only him. Only us.
Raiden's lips lingered for one final heartbeat before he drew back, just enough for his forehead to rest against mine. Our breaths mingled—uneven, shallow—the world holding still.
The ghost of his kiss still burned on my lips.
And my heart thundered so loudly, I was certain he could hear it.