Chapter 112: The Calm Before The Storm

The men had the decency not to bring the subject up again during the days that followed—except for Nicky, who, of course, never missed an opportunity to embarrass her. Argy, meanwhile, was delighted that he no longer had to hide, and every time Blanche saw him smile, she couldn't help thinking that all of it had been worth it.

Besides, they would have found out sooner or later.

As for what Kysten and Asher would say when they finally woke up, that was an entirely different matter. Blanche made a conscious effort not to dwell on it for now. There was nothing she could do about it anyway.

By the end of the week, she had effectively moved into Aaron's room.

The transition happened almost naturally.

Without any real discussion.

Without any official decision.

At some point, she had simply stopped returning to her old room.

Then her belongings had begun appearing here and there.

A brush on the dresser.

A few books on a shelf.

Women's clothes hanging in the wardrobe.

A pair of shoes abandoned by the door.

And before she even realized it, the room had stopped being Aaron's and had become theirs.

The realization still made her smile.

Sometimes blush, too.

Especially when she thought about it for too long.

Fortunately, Derek made sure she never spent too long thinking about anything.

The intensive training he had been putting her through for the past several days now qualified as organized torture.

Blanche had genuinely believed she had reached a respectable level.

She had survived the Otherworld.

Combat classes.

Monsters.

Quests.

Previous training sessions.

Apparently, Derek considered all of that nothing more than a warm-up.

Every day seemed harder than the last.

Every exercise revealed entirely new muscles she hadn't even known existed.

And every morning, she discovered a brand-new source of pain somewhere on her body.

A truly educational experience.

She was learning a great deal.

Mostly how to suffer.

The most irritating part was Derek's enthusiasm.

The man seemed genuinely convinced she was improving.

Which was probably true.

The problem was that she had rarely been this exhausted in her entire life.

Her days now ended in a permanent haze.

She ate.

She showered.

She vaguely attempted to hold conversations.

Then her body surrendered.

Without negotiation.

More than once, she fell asleep before Aaron even returned to their room.

She would slip beneath the blankets with the perfectly honorable intention of waiting up for him a few minutes.

Then she'd open her eyes the following morning.

End of story.

A remarkable performance.

For a long time, Blanche had believed extraordinary circumstances were required to voluntarily ignore a man as attractive as Aaron.

Fatigue had just proven otherwise.

Even her mornings had changed.

She, who normally woke at dawn, now found herself emerging long after her usual hour.

With the strange sensation of having slept forever.

And yet never quite enough.

The bed was often empty.

Aaron already gone.

Managing the barracks.

Organizing missions.

Repairing some catastrophe or another.

Or simply saving the world before breakfast.

An activity that seemed perfectly reasonable for him.

And yet...

Despite his absence.

Despite their mismatched schedules.

Despite the training that reduced their time together to a handful of stolen moments.

His presence remained everywhere.

In the details.

In the habits.

In the objects.

But most of all, in his scent.

Aaron's musky fragrance seemed to have taken over the entire room.

It lingered in the sheets.

The blankets.

The pillows.

Even the air itself seemed to retain traces of it.

A warm, masculine scent, subtly woody, mixed with something more difficult to define.

Something that belonged entirely to him.

And now clung to her as well.

To her clothes.

To her hair.

To her skin.

Sometimes, when she woke alone, still half-asleep, all she had to do was breathe to know he had slept there a few hours earlier.

In his place.

Against her.

Like every night.

The thought inevitably brought a smile to her lips.

Small.

Subtle.

Ridiculously happy.

Because amid the constant chaos, the exhausting training, the missions, and the responsibilities, there was something strangely comforting about that certainty.

She didn't need to see him to know he was there.

The traces he left behind were enough.

Like a silent presence.

A habit she had come to need.

And Blanche was discovering, somewhat to her surprise, that she loved it.

He had barely touched her lately, even as she found herself longing for his contact. With the other four constantly around, they hadn't had a single moment alone.

She missed his passionate kisses so much that, on the final evening before their missions, Blanche finally resolved to knock on the door of his office.

No one answered.

Disappointed, she dragged her feet back toward their room.

She opened the door and came face-to-face with Aaron.

He was bare-chested, bent halfway over, his trousers pooled around his ankles.

He straightened and looked directly at her.

Blanche couldn't say a word as she stared.

Aaron casually stepped out of the rest of his clothing and walked straight toward her.

He shut the door with a sharp click and immediately pinned her against it.

She had no chance to protest before he was already claiming her mouth.

It didn't take long before Blanche's limbs stopped responding properly.

A soft moan escaped her when he pressed his tense body against hers.

His hands slid into her hair, holding her in place as their teeth brushed together.

His tongue swept into her mouth with hungry determination before teasing and drawing hers into the kiss.

Blanche shivered and tangled her fingers in his hair.

It was so soft.

So thick.

Then she felt just how much he wanted her.

Her eyes flew open in surprise as he suddenly broke the kiss.

Aaron's eyes had darkened with desire.

Normally golden, they now resembled aged whiskey, his pupils completely dilated.

"That was to say goodbye," he explained in a rough voice. "I'll be leaving before dawn."

Blanche ran her tongue lightly over her lips.

"I really like your hellos and goodbyes," she whispered.

He smiled before retreating toward their bed.

Sitting down, he kept his stormy gaze fixed on her.

Blanche's own gaze wandered.

Without his trousers concealing anything, he seemed even more imposing than usual.

To regain some composure, she picked up the clothes he'd left on the floor, folded them neatly, and placed them where they belonged.

Then she turned off the light and undressed as well.

Meanwhile, Aaron slipped beneath the covers.

Lying on his back, he waited for Blanche to walk around the bed and settle into her rightful place beside him.

They both kept their distance through unspoken agreement.

"Thank you," he said, "for taking care of my clothes. I needed to get away from you before I lost the ability to."

Heart racing, Blanche said nothing.

She only relaxed when she heard Aaron's gentle snoring.

Phoenix immediately took advantage of the opportunity to curl up in her arms.

Blanche pulled him close against her chest.

In the end, it was his purring and his soft fur that finally lulled her to sleep.