CHAPTER 248: OF COURSE. I UNDERSTAND

Darius had barely recalled the events that had happened after. He had not realised how exhausted he had been to have fallen asleep in Serena’s lap or so she said. He barely believed her words but opening his eyes to the rising sun with Serena’s palm pressed firmly to his face was enough proof.

He couldn’t imagine Serena lugging him around, while she was leanly built she did not come off as the type to be lugging around heavy work much less a man like him. Darius turned to her, she barely stirred and she breathed in and out evenly. A small smile spread across his lips and then pushed himself closer to hold her.

Darius let out a yawn, he did not fight against his body. Try as he could, mountains of work appeared in his head. He bit back a groan and slumped back into bed, what would he give to skip out on his duty and stay in bed. He had already done too much by sacrificing the previous day.

When he opened his eyes, he found groggy green eyes staring back at him.

"Oh hello you," Darius murmured. "Did I wake you up?"

"Not at all. I am surprised to still see you here," Serena replied.

Darius hummed lowly as he reached out to brush a thumb beneath Serena’s eye. "Still me, I’m afraid."

Serena blinked slowly, her voice sleep-soft. "Pity. I thought you might vanish from here."

"You wound me," he whispered, feigning hurt. "And here I was, thinking I’d earned some favour."

A corner of her mouth lifted. "You did fall asleep on me. Hardly the gallant ending I envisioned."

He chuckled and shifted just slightly, the morning light catching the edge of her cheekbone. "I should apologise. I must have been more exhausted than I thought."

"You were," she said, her voice quiet and her fingers trailing absently along the edge of the blanket. "You barely moved when I tried to wake you."

He let silence stretch between them for a while, comforted by the rise and fall of her breath, the warmth that lingered in the shared space. The castle was still quiet; not even the usual shuffling of servants disturbed the moment.

"I suppose I should be going," Darius finally murmured, though he made no move.

Serena’s lashes lifted slowly. "You suppose?"

"Unfortunately," he sighed. "Duty calls."

She nodded faintly and looked away, a subtle deflation in her posture. "Of course. I understand."

But she didn’t sound as if she truly meant it. Darius tilted his head, eyes narrowing with affection as he watched her shift beneath the sheets. "What’s this? You look as if I have just told you your favourite horse died."

Her lips twitched, but no words came.

He leaned forward then, one strong arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her against him. "I shall make it up to you," he said softly. "Name your penance."

Serena looked up at him, her brows lifting in surprise at the sudden closeness. "Oh, shall I start a list?"

He smirked. "Please. I enjoy a good challenge."

Before she could reply, his mouth found hers.

It was not a rushed kiss, nor overly gentle, no, it was slow and tasting, firm in its intention. Serena responded in kind, a soft hum escaping her as she reached for his shoulder, her fingers curling there as though she meant to keep him rooted to the bed. His hand slid into the curve of her waist, then up, brushing her ribs beneath the thin fabric.

The kiss deepened, lips parting, breath catching. It was all too easy to stay there.

But he pulled away at last, reluctantly, though his forehead stayed pressed to hers. "If I stay longer, I will not leave at all."

"I am not stopping you," she murmured, but her voice was barely teasing.

"I know," he said, brushing a final kiss against her jaw. "But I should go before I give in to reason."

Serena exhaled slowly and let her hand slip from his shoulder. "Then go. Before I decide to tempt you any further."

He grinned, standing from the bed and running a hand through his hair. "You already have."

She chuckled softly, tucking the blanket closer around her. "Be safe, Darius."

Darius paused, met her gaze once more, and then nodded. "I will return before the day’s end. I will check on you, surely."

And with that, he left.

—

Back in his own chambers, Darius shed his rumpled shirt and washed quickly at the basin. He took his time in the bath, letting the chill water rouse him to full awareness. The servants laid out a dark riding tunic with his seal and gloves stitched into the cuffs, clean breeches, and his favored leather boots. Within the half-hour, he was dressed and at the stables.

The morning air was crisp. Dew clung to the grass as his mount was prepared, a dark-coated gelding with steady hooves, ideal for the winding paths that led to Aramore.

Aramore was one of Ironshade’s oldest settlements, tucked between cliffs and meadows and known for its craftsmanship, metalworkers, weavers, carpenters, and tradesfolk all made their home there. It was also a village prone to disagreements, especially among the older guild families. Today’s dispute was over mineral rights along a shared cliffside: a matter Darius had delayed too long.

As he rode into the heart of the village, the sound of hammers striking anvils echoed faintly through the morning fog. A few villagers tipped their hats or nodded, recognizing the dark-cloaked figure of their Alpha.

"Alpha Darius," called a voice, gravelled and stern.

Elder Marten stood near the common square with his arms folded across his chest. Beside him was young Harwin, the son of a blacksmith, eyes narrowed and jaw tight.

Darius dismounted smoothly and handed the reins to a stable boy. "Elder. Harwin. I understand there has been unrest."

"You might call it that," Marten muttered. "The boy’s family is digging too close to the border of the mountain passage. He claims it was his father’s right. But that stretch was never surveyed properly."

Harwin’s jaw tightened. "My father worked in that vein all his life. The quarrymen never claimed it until now."

Darius raised a hand. "Enough. I am not here to take sides"

He stepped between them and motioned for the village scribes to bring out the land records. Within minutes, parchment was unfurled across the wooden table, inked marks and faded seals detailing past ownership.

Darius furrowed his brow and pointed to a section that had been disputed before. "This seal here, it belongs to your great-uncle, Marten. But he sold the parcel to the Aramore Ironworkers Guild nearly thirty years ago. No dispute was ever recorded since."

"That cannot be," Marten said, though his voice had quieted.

Harwin’s mouth parted. "Then it is ours?"

"According to this, the guild has rights to it," Darius confirmed. "However, there is room to negotiate shared access, should both parties agree."

Both of the men fell silent.

Then Marten grunted. "The boy has spirit perhaps too much. Let him draft the terms. I will consider."

Harwin looked as if he could hardly believe it.

Darius clasped a hand on the young man’s shoulder. "Do not let pride turn victory into folly."

The matter closed, Darius lingered long enough to speak with the other guild leaders. The visit ended near midday, and as he mounted his horse once again, his mind drifted, not to any sort of work, but to a soft room in the castle, and the woman who had said she might tempt him. Darius smiled to himself.