Chapter 56 LETTING LOOSE (II)
(HAVEN)
With that, he enters me in one powerful thrust, a guttural groan escaping his lips. It's dirty, passionate, a frenzy of bodies colliding, sweat-slicked skin, nails raking down backs, hips grinding with reckless abandon. He pours out his emotions with every movement, every whispered confession. "I love you, Little Flame. More than my kingdom, more than my life. You've ruined me, and I'd let you do it a thousand times over."
I arch into him, meeting his intensity, my own cries mingling with his. How did we get here? From enemies to this raw, unfiltered connection. Pleasure builds like a wildfire, consuming us both. "Auren... I... I choose you," I gasp, the words tumbling out unbidden, my hate finally crumbling to ash.
But he shakes his head, even in the throes of passion, leaning closer, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath brushing my cheek, could feel the danger that lay beneath the calm. “I would never have chosen you.”
“You already did, Haven,” he whispered, almost reverently, “The moment you looked at me… and lived. And I will do anything to keep you safe. Including burning down the entire continent.”
His words ignite something deep within me, a final surrender. We climax together, an explosion of sensation that leaves us both trembling, spent. He collapses onto me, his head resting on my chest, his arms wrapped possessively around my waist. His breathing evens out almost immediately, the feral energy draining away as sleep claims him.
I stroke his hair, my own exhaustion creeping in, but a quiet peace settles over me. He's safe, for now. And maybe... just maybe, so am I. The curse still looms, but in this moment, with his heartbeat steady against mine, I allow myself to hope.
\~~~
I wake up to warm, comfortable hands gently stroking my face, tucking stray strands of hair behind my ear. Cold, trembling lips brush kisses across my forehead, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, soft, frantic little presses like someone’s afraid I’ll disappear if they stop.
My eyelids flutter open slowly.
Golden orbs meet mine; teary, wide, brimming with raw horror. The second our gazes lock, the horror cracks and shatters. Relief floods in so fast it almost hurts to watch.
His hands drop from my face, and in the next heartbeat he hauls me up and crushes me against his chest, arms banding around me like iron. His face buries in the crook of my shoulder. Sobs wrench out of him in deep, broken sounds that shake his whole frame.
“Fuck, baby,” he chokes out, voice hoarse and ragged, like he’s been screaming or crying for hours. “I thought I lost you.”
I wrap my arms around him without thinking. His body trembles against mine, hot tears soaking through the thin fabric of my shift. I hold him tighter, one hand stroking the back of his neck, the other pressed between his shoulder blades. I don’t say anything yet. I just let him cling, let the storm in him rage until the sobs quiet into shaky breaths and the violent shaking eases into small shudders.
When he finally pulls back just enough to look at me, he turns his face away, like he can’t bear for me to see him like this. His skin looks too pale under the low candlelight, almost gray. His eyes are bloodshot, rimmed red, lashes clumped with tears. Fresh tracks glisten on his cheeks. The raw relief in those golden depths slices straight through my chest.
“When you didn’t wake up…” He swallows hard, voice cracking again. His fingers slide into my tangled hair, combing through it gently, like he needs the motion to ground himself. “I thought you had died. I was devastated knowing that I was the one responsible. If only I was more in control…”
His words cut off. Guilt rolls off him in waves so thick I can almost taste it through the bond. His shoulders hunch inward, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, like he doesn’t deserve to hold me after what happened.
I cup his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me. His eyes are glassy, terrified, searching mine for any sign of pain or accusation.
“Auren,” I say softly. My thumbs brush away the fresh tears that spill over. “I’m fine. Look at me, I’m right here. Breathing, heart beating and still annoying you, probably.”
A broken laugh escapes him, more sob than sound. He leans into my touch like a man starved.
“I’m okay,” I repeat, firmer this time. “Whatever that was, the curse, the drain, the power surge, it didn’t take me. It didn’t win. We’re both still here.”
His hands cover mine, pressing them harder against his cheeks. He closes his eyes for a second, like he’s trying to believe it.
“You almost weren’t,” he whispers. “Because of me.”
“No.” I shake my head.
He opens his eyes again. The guilt is still there, deep and stubborn, but something softer edges in too—gratitude, maybe, or fragile hope.
I lean forward and press my forehead to his. Our breaths mingle, warm and uneven.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I murmur. “Not yet. Not ever, if I have anything to say about it.”
He exhales—a long, trembling sound—and pulls me back into his arms, gentler this time. His chin rests on top of my head. His heartbeat thuds against my ear, too fast but steady.
For now, that’s enough.
We stay like that for a while, and when his heart stops racing, I pull him up and we both sit up. “We leave for the Alchemy mountains today. We had better get ready."
We head to the bathroom and wash off the remnants of last night's pleasure. He takes his time cleaning me, his hands shaking throughout like he's afraid I'll break if not handled with care.
But all the white my mind stays on my conversation with Tyren.
Maybe going along with his plan might be the only logical thing to do.