CHAPTER 162: CHAPTER 161: THIS IS HOW IT BEGINS

Lumberling savored Vaenyra’s lips, warm, soft, tasting faintly of strawberry and midnight air. Her scent lingered, floral, earthy, feminine, curling into his senses and threading deep into memory.

When they finally pulled apart, breath brushing breath, Vaenyra blinked slowly, as if coming down from a spell. Her usual sharp poise faltered, and in its place bloomed something almost foreign, shyness.

Her cheeks carried a faint flush, emerald eyes darting away, then back, then away again. She tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear, lips still parted like she might speak, but said nothing.

Then she smiled. Just a little. Just enough.

And without a word, she turned and left him standing there, moonlight catching the edges of her silken steps, the sway of her hips full of confidence again, but something new lingered in the way she walked. Something less guarded.

Lumberling exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

He let out a low chuckle, shook his head once, then tilted his gaze skyward. The stars were out, dim behind thin clouds, and the forest around the village hummed with distant life.

His fingers brushed his lips, still tingling.

"Trouble," he muttered to himself. And he smiled.

....

As Vaenyra walked back, her footsteps were light, but her heart wasn’t.

She walked with practiced grace, head held high, her long blue hair swaying behind her like a cape in the wind. But with every step away from him, the fire in her chest crackled louder.

She touched her lips.

They still burned. The way he kissed her, so certain, so unhesitating, it rattled the ironclad control she kept around everyone. Around herself.

She bit her bottom lip and let out a quiet, helpless laugh.

It was maddening.

He was maddening.

Her steps slowed as she reached the edge of the trees, where shadows stretched long and cool beneath the stars. She leaned against a trunk, one hand resting on her chest, trying to still the rhythm that refused to calm.

"I wasn’t supposed to..." she whispered to herself.

She wasn’t supposed to let him close. Not like that. Not with words, not with touch. Not with lips that tasted like promise.

But he had slipped in anyway. Through silence. Through patience. Through that quiet defiance of hers he’d never tried to change.

She closed her eyes.

And smiled.

"So this is how it begins," she whispered to herself, though this time, it wasn’t angry. It wasn’t bitter.

It was soft. Almost hopeful.

Then, with a final breath, Vaenyra stepped into the night, no longer running, no longer guarding. Just walking, slow and deliberate, toward a future she hadn’t imagine until now.

.....

By the time Lumberling made it home, he found Aurelya curled up beneath the tree outside his door, her knees hugged to her chest, golden-blonde hair tangled by the wind. Her back leaned gently against the bark, and her eyes, half-lidded, weary, stared off at nothing.

Just one glance was enough.

She wasn’t doing well.

He stepped silently off the path and into the grass, circling behind her like a stalking shadow. His movements were silent, controlled... and then...

His arms slid around her waist.

"KYAA!" Aurelya jolted, heart thudding as she twisted halfway to face him, only to freeze when she saw who it was.

Her scowl formed an instant later.

"You!" she started, but Lumberling was already laughing, the low, amused rumble in his chest vibrating against her back.

She pouted, puffing her cheeks. "You scared me! Idiot."

"I missed you too," he said, not apologizing at all. "But really, curled up outside like some sad little stray. Why didn’t you just wait for me inside?"

"I... wanted some fresh air," she muttered, crossing her arms, though she didn’t pull away from his embrace.

He rested his chin on her shoulder. "How long were you waiting?"

She didn’t answer. Instead: "So? How did your talk with Lady Vaenyra go?"

Lumberling smirked. "We kissed."

Aurelya blinked. "That fast?"

"Didn’t expect it either," he said with a shrug. "Looks like you’ve got real competition."

She let out a sharp breath through her nose. "Tch."

He laughed. "I’m kidding."

"Better be."

Then, without a word, he wrapped his arms tighter around her and drew her back against him. The silence between them settled again, but this time, it was softer, calmer.

Aurelya leaned into him, the tension in her shoulders bleeding out.

A long pause.

She hesitated. Her fingers clenched the hem of her sleeve.

"I thought maybe... you wouldn’t come back," she whispered, eyes averted. "Or maybe you’d be with her. Like... fully."

After a heartbeat.

"I want to feel you tonight."

Lumberling blinked, the words catching him off-guard.

Her face turned crimson as she looked away, voice barely more than a whisper now. "I... I just want to be near you. Don’t make it weird."

But her trembling fingers had already found his hand. Holding it. Intertwining.

And she didn’t let go.

....

Aurelya stood near the edge of the bed, her white dress clinging like a lover’s hands to every curve. Firelight flickered behind her, casting a golden glow across her pale skin, turning her into something half-divine, half-forbidden.

Her golden hair spilled down her back in shimmering waves, catching the light like molten silk, and her eyes, those smoldering golden eyes held something volatile. Longing, hunger, and fearless surrender.

Lumberling stepped closer, his breath steady but heavy.

Her chest rose with quick, trembling breaths. Her lips parted, not to speak, but to invite.

He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the back of his fingers brushing her cheek. His touch lingered, warm and possessive.

She leaned into him with a subtle shiver, her voice husky. "I’ve wanted this. You."

He answered without words.

His hand moved to her jaw, tilting her face up. His mouth met hers, slow, deep, and consuming. Her breath caught; her knees gave way. He caught her easily, one arm wrapping around her waist, crushing her soft body against his harder frame. She melted into him with a gasp, one hand pressed flat against his chest, feeling the heat beneath his tunic.

Their lips parted only to breathe, only for the briefest second.

Then hands moved.