Night did not pass quietly.
Ayra felt every second of it.
Sleep came in fragments, thin, restless, broken by heat and half formed dreams that clung to her skin long after she woke. Each time she drifted, the bond tugged her back to awareness, pulsing low and insistent, as though reminding her of what she was denying.
She lay still, staring into the darkness.
Across the camp, Alric had not slept either. She could tell without looking. The bond carried his tension clearly now, coiled restraint, sharpened awareness, desire held tight under discipline that was beginning to fray.
When she finally turned her head, their eyes met instantly.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
The bond flared, no longer patient.
Ayra sat up slowly. The movement sent a wave of heat through her body, sharp enough to steal her breath. She pressed her palm to her thigh, grounding herself, but it barely helped.
"This isn't fading," she said quietly.
"No," Alric replied. His voice was steady, but it took effort. "It won't."
Silence stretched between them, heavy with understanding.
Ayra rose to her feet.
Alric followed her movement with his eyes, jaw tight. "Ayra," he warned softly. "If you come closer"
"I know," she said.
She stepped closer anyway.
The bond surged violently, relief and hunger twisting together. Ayra gasped, fingers curling into fists as sensation rolled through her. She stopped only an arm's length away, chest rising fast.
"I won't be told what I'm allowed to want," she said, voice low but steady.
Alric stood as well, slow and deliberate. "Neither will I."
The space between them felt impossibly small.
"This isn't the bond forcing us," Ayra said. "It's just… amplifying what's already there."
His gaze dropped to her mouth, then lifted again. "And if what's already there changes everything?"
"Then it was always going to," she answered.
For a moment, Alric didn't move.
Then he reached for her.
Not roughly. Not hesitantly.
With intent.
His hand settled at her waist, warm and firm, grounding her even as it sent another jolt through her nerves. Ayra inhaled sharply, her hands lifting to brace against his chest without thinking.
The contact was overwhelming.
The bond wrapped around them fully now, no longer a thread but a living presence, pulsing in time with their breaths. Ayra felt seen in a way she never had before, every fear, every want laid bare and accepted.
Alric leaned down slowly, giving her time to pull away.
She didn't.
When his lips met hers, it wasn't gentle.
It was controlled heat, measured, deliberate, as though he were holding himself back even as he kissed her. Ayra responded instinctively, fingers gripping his tunic, pulling him closer.
The bond flared bright.
The kiss deepened, breath mingling, tension snapping one strand at a time. Alric's restraint cracked, just slightly, enough for Ayra to feel the shift. His hand slid along her back, steadying her as her knees weakened.
She broke the kiss first, forehead resting against his chest, breath uneven. "If we stop now"
"We won't," he finished.
Not as a threat.
As a truth.
He lifted her carefully, setting her down near the shelter's edge, movements deliberate despite the urgency in his eyes. Ayra's pulse thundered as she watched him, the bond singing between them.
This wasn't rushed.
It was inevitable.
Alric's hands traced her sides slowly, learning rather than taking, grounding her even as her body arched into the touch. Ayra closed her eyes, sensation flooding her, every nerve alive.
The world narrowed to heat and closeness and the rhythm of their breaths.
When he pressed his forehead to hers again, his voice was rough. "Tell me to stop."
Ayra opened her eyes.
She saw not a prince then, not an enemy, not even a bond bearer.
She saw a man choosing her.
"Don't," she whispered.
The bond surged violently, sealing the choice.
What followed was not frantic.
It was consuming.
Touch layered over touch, slow at first, then urgent as restraint finally gave way. Ayra lost track of time, of where her body ended and his began, the bond weaving them together in sensation and emotion until there was no separating one from the other.
When the bond finally settled, it did so gently, like a tide receding after a storm.
Ayra lay still afterward, breath slowing, body humming with exhausted warmth. Alric remained close, one arm firm around her, grounding without claiming.
For the first time since the bond formed, there was quiet.
Not emptiness.
Balance.
Ayra stared at the darkened sky beyond the shelter, feeling… different. Not weaker. Not smaller.
Anchored.
Alric shifted slightly beside her. "Are you all right?"
She turned her head, meeting his gaze. "Yes."
She paused. "Are you?"
He studied her for a long moment. "I think," he said slowly, "that I've just crossed a line I was raised never to approach."
She smiled faintly. "Regret?"
"No," he said immediately. Then, more softly, "Concern."
"For what?"
"For how much harder it will be to protect you now."
Ayra's expression sharpened. "I don't need protection from you."
His thumb brushed her knuckles. "I know."
The bond pulsed warm, settled, strong.
But somewhere beyond the shelter, far from their fragile quiet, the night stirred.
And the world was already adjusting to what they had done.