Chapter 262 The Return of Her Power

Chapter 262 The Return of Her Power

Felda’s eyes widened so fast it felt like they might spill right out of her head. Her hands flew down, pressing flat against her stomach as if she could suddenly feel the tiny life resting beneath her skin, hidden safe inside her.

"Really?" Her breath caught, her voice trembling on the edge of a laugh and a sob. "I'm pregnant with your baby?"

King Daze nodded slowly. The heavy lines around his mouth didn't lift into a smile; instead, his jaw tightened, the look in his dark eyes thick with a quiet ache that didn't match the news.

"Oh, I'm so happy," Felda breathed, her chest rising and falling fast. But then the rush of her racing thoughts pulled her back, remembering the cold panic of the forest and the darkness that had dragged her down right before she lost consciousness. Her hands gripped the edge of the blanket. "Does that mean you're not chasing us away anymore?"

King Daze let out a long, heavy breath, the kind that came straight from his chest. He reached up, his large, calloused palms gently cupping her face, his thumbs brushing softly across her cheekbones. But his eyes told a different story. He was thinking of the blood on the borders, the looming threat of the approaching war, and the hollow, terrifying emptiness left inside him since he had lost his wolf. He wanted them safe more than he wanted his own breath, but he didn't know how to keep them here without putting them right in the line of fire.

He shook his head slightly and slowly pulled his hands away from her face, letting them drop to his sides. "You can't forgive me, Felda. And I... I can't tie you down here in this cage, even if you're carrying my child."

Felda’s brows pulled together, her soft expression twisting into a stubborn frown. "That's nonsense," she snapped, a flash of her old fire sparking in her voice. "I'll forgive you. I've already forgiven you... you just refuse to listen!"

She didn't want to talk anymore. She didn't want to hear about the kingdom, or the wars, or his stubborn, foolish pride.

She shifted on the bed, sliding closer to him, her body radiating heat. She wanted more than his words. She wanted him close; she wanted his skin against hers, and she wanted the ache in her chest to finally be filled with something real.

King Daze saw the hunger in her eyes and automatically leaned back, shaking his head with a faint, tired smirk. "No, we can't do that. Not in your situation. You need to rest..."

Before he could finish the sentence, a strange, electric heat flickered in the tips of Felda's fingers. Without even thinking, driven purely by the wild, desperate urge to keep him right where he was, she flicked her wrist toward him.

A sudden, invisible ripple of energy cut through the air.

King Daze stopped dead in the middle of his sentence. He blinked, trying to shift his shoulders, but his muscles locked tight. He was completely frozen in place, rooted to the spot beside the bed as if his boots had turned to stone.

For a second, silence hung between them.

Felda stared at him, blinking in surprise, completely unaware of what she had just done. She had thought her magic was gone for good, burned away by the harsh years of slavery and exhaustion. She simply assumed the king was just playing along with her, teasing her the way he used to before everything went wrong.

Across from her, King Daze’s eyes widened with a sudden jolt of shock. He felt the familiar, ancient hum of her power wrapping around him like invisible iron bands. 'Her magic,' he thought, his heart skipping a beat. 'It came back.'

She didn't even realize it; she had only cast it because she wanted him too badly to let him walk away.

A soft, triumphant smile crept onto Felda's face. Thinking he was just joking around, she shifted closer, sliding her knees across the mattress until she was right up against him. She reached up, her fingers tangling into the dark hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him down.

When her lips met his, the breath rushed out of the king’s lungs. The spell held him still, but the moment her mouth brushed against his, the last of his resistance shattered into dust. His heart hammered wildly against his ribs. He didn't care about the magic holding his limbs; his body surged toward her on its own accord.

Realizing he wasn't fighting her, that he was kissing her back with a fierce, starving desperation that matched her own... Felda let go of the spell.

The invisible bonds snapped away, but King Daze didn't pull back. Instead, his arms wrapped around her waist with sudden, crushing force, lifting her closer as his lips parted over hers. The kiss turned deep, heavy, and frantic, tasting of salt, old pain, and a love that refused to die no matter how much they tried to bury it.

The heavy furs and blankets tumbled from the bed as they tangled together. Every touch was an unspoken apology, a desperate erasing of the distance that had kept them apart for so long.

Felda arched into his touch, her fingers digging fiercely into the broad muscles of his back, feeling the hot brand of his skin beneath her palms. She pulled him closer, panting softly against his lips, her voice a breathless whisper in the dim room.

"Be gentle," she murmured, her eyes dark and heavy with need as she looked up at him. "Please... be gentle with me."

King Daze buried his face in the crook of her neck, his hot breath sending a shiver straight down her spine. His voice was rough, thick with a mix of raw desire and the eternal fear of breaking her.

"I'm trying to be," he groaned against her skin, his lips pressing a hot, lingering kiss just below her jawline before his hands slid down to pull her flush against him.

The world outside the stone walls... the whispers of the pack, the looming shadow of the war, the heavy burdens of the crown faded away entirely, leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing and the heat of their skin joining together in the quiet dark.

Hours later, the room grew still.

The wild storm of their passion had burned itself out, leaving only a deep, exhausted peace in its wake.

The heavy furs were tangled around their legs. King Daze lay flat on his back, staring up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling, his breathing slowly and even.

Felda was curled tightly against his side, her head resting comfortably right over his steady, thumping heart, one of her bare arms draped lazily across his chest.

Neither of them spoke.

They didn't need to. For the first time in years, wrapped together in the quiet shadows, naked and completely vulnerable to one another, they were finally at home.