Chapter 167: Waiting

I went to find Connor. Told him about the summons. About my decision to go.

He listened without interrupting. Then nodded.

"Good," he said. "You'll represent the pack. Show the Citadel that the alliance is strong."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. This is important. Political. Having you there sends a message."

I hadn't thought about it that way. Hadn't considered the implications.

But Connor was right. This wasn't just about accompanying Darian. This was about showing unity. About proving the peace was real.

No turning back now.

We left two days later. Early morning. The settlement gates opened for us. A few pack members gathered to see us off.

Elizabeth hugged me. "Be careful."

"I will."

"And have fun."

I gave her a look. She grinned.

The journey was long. We traveled on horseback through familiar territory first. Then into neutral ground.

We moved carefully. Both of us were still recovering. Still not at full strength.

But we managed.

The days were quiet. We didn't talk much. Just focused on the road. On making steady progress.

Darian rode beside me. Calm. Steady. Checking on me periodically without being obvious.

I did the same. Watched for signs he was tiring. Made sure we rested when needed.

The first night, we camped under the stars. Made a small fire. Ate dried meat and bread.

I set up my bedroll on one side of the fire. He set up his on the other.

Close enough to talk. Far enough to maintain space.

The bond hummed between us. Aware. Waiting.

I lay on my back and looked at the stars. Listened to him breathe across the fire.

The tension was there. Sexual. Undeniable.

But we didn't act on it.

Too tired. Too focused on healing. Too aware of the journey ahead.

The second night was the same. Quiet. Careful. Close but separate.

I couldn't sleep. Lay awake listening to the night sounds. The fire crackling. His breathing.

I wondered if he was awake too. If he felt the same pull I did.

The third day, we made good time. Reached a sheltered area near a stream. Decided to camp early.

I sat on a flat rock and pulled out my dagger. Started sharpening it. The rhythm was soothing. Familiar.

I felt his eyes on me.

Looked up. Caught him watching from across the camp.

His expression was intense. Focused. Not on the blade. On me.

Heat rushed through me. Made my face flush. Made my hands less steady.

He didn't look away. Just kept watching.

Like he was memorizing me. Like he couldn't help himself.

I looked back down at my blade. Tried to focus. Tried to ignore the way my heart was racing.

But I was aware of him. Constantly aware.

"You're good at that," he said.

"At what?"

"Weapon maintenance. You make it look easy."

"It is easy. Just repetition."

"Can you teach me?"

I looked up. "You don't know how to sharpen a blade?"

"I know the basics. But not like you do."

He moved closer. Sat beside me on the rock.

Too close. I could smell him. Feel the warmth of his body.

I handed him the blade. Showed him the angle. The pressure. The motion.

His hands followed mine. Mimicked the movement.

We sat like that. Close. Working in tandem. Not touching but almost.

The bond pulsed. Insistent.

I wanted to lean into him. Wanted to close the distance. Wanted to stop thinking and just feel.

But I didn't.

Just sat there. Taught him. Pretended the tension wasn't suffocating.

When the blade was sharp, I took it back. Put it away.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

We stayed on the rock. Neither of us moved to go back to our separate sides of camp.

"One more day to the Citadel," he said.

"Yes."

"Are you nervous?"

"A little."

"Why?"

"I've been there before. With Connor. It's not my favorite place."

"Too many vampires?"

"Too much politics."

He smiled slightly. "Fair."

"Are you nervous?" I asked.

"About the Council? No. About you being there? Yes."

"Why?"

"Because they'll judge you. Judge us. And I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I can handle it."

"I know. But I still worry."

Something warm settled in my chest. He worried about me. Wanted to protect me from discomfort.

No one had done that before. Not like this.

"I'll be fine," I said. "I'm with you."

He looked at me. Gray eyes soft in the firelight.

"Yes," he said. "You are."

We sat in silence. Let the moment stretch.

Then he stood. Offered me his hand.

I took it. Let him pull me up.

We were close. Too close. The air felt charged.

He didn't step back. Neither did I.

Just stood there. Hands joined. Looking at each other.

"One more day," he said again. Quietly.

"One more day," I repeated.

Then we separated. Went to our bedrolls. Lay down on opposite sides of the fire.

But I felt him. All night. Every moment.

Waiting. Both of us waiting.

For what, I didn't know.

But it was coming. I could feel it.