The forest had fallen eerily silent, the distant sounds of pursuit fading into the mist. Lucien led Taryn to a small hollow beneath the gnarled roots of a massive tree. It was cramped but hidden, the earth cool and damp beneath them.
Taryn sank to the ground with a muffled groan, her hand still pressed tightly to the arrow in her side. Blood seeped through her fingers, her breaths shallow and uneven.
Lucien knelt beside her, his silver eyes scanning her face before dropping to the wound. His voice was quiet but firm. "We have to take care of this now."
Her eyes flicked down to the arrow protruding from her side. She grimaced, her resolve wavering. "I need too…" she said, her voice strained but steady.
Lucien's gaze snapped to her side, his jaw clenching at the sight. "Let me do it—"
"No." She cut him off, her free hand already gripping the broken shaft of the arrow. She exhaled sharply, bracing herself. "I've got it."
Without waiting for a response, Taryn gritted her teeth and yanked the arrow free in one swift motion. A sharp cry escaped her lips, the pain blinding for a moment. Blood gushed from the wound, hot and unrelenting, and her vision swam.
Lucien caught her as she swayed, his hands steadying her. "Damn it, Taryn," he muttered, his voice rough with frustration. The blood spilled over his fingers, and something primal flickered in his eyes, sharp and instinctive.
The scent of her blood filled the air, and before Taryn could fully process his shift in focus, Lucien's head dipped. He caught the trail of blood running down her side, his tongue darting out to lap it up. The motion was swift, almost unconscious, but it brought an immediate surge of warmth and something deeper through their bond.
"Lucien," Taryn rasped, her voice strained, but she didn't pull away knowing what needed to be done. The initial shock faded as his touch became more deliberate. Her breathing hitched as his hands steadied her by the waist.
"This is going to hurt," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and almost reverent, though edged with a quiet urgency.
Taryn swallowed hard, her fingers digging into the dirt beneath her. "Do it."
Lucien nodded, his grip tightening as he leaned in fully. He licked over the wound with more intention, his saliva mixing with her blood. The initial burn was unbearable, like fire spreading through her veins. Taryn gasped, her body trembling as the bond flared, amplifying the pain before slowly dulling it.
"Stay still, Warrior," Lucien murmured, his voice soft but commanding. His hands pressed firmly against her hips to hold her steady as he worked.
The pain didn't subside; it deepened, sharp and unyielding as his saliva began to take effect. Each stroke of his tongue sent another wave of agony through her, but beneath it was a faint hum of something else—healing. Slowly, the burning gave way to a strange, spreading warmth, as if her body was being stitched back together from the inside out.
Lucien's breathing was heavy, his focus unwavering as he continued. The bond between them throbbed, her pain echoing through him as though it were his own. His expression was a mix of determination and something raw, something almost protective. He bore her suffering alongside her, and through their connection, she could feel the weight of his resolve.
"Gods," Taryn hissed through clenched teeth, her vision blurring as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She refused to let them fall.
Lucien's tongue traced the edges of the wound with agonizing precision, each motion deliberate and methodical. "Almost done," he whispered, his voice rough yet soothing.
Finally, the wound finished knitting itself closed under his touch. The warmth from his saliva radiated outward, leaving a dull ache in place of the searing pain. Lucien pulled back after one final pass, his lips stained with her blood, his chest rising and falling with exertion.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice rough.
Taryn slumped back against the tree, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. "That… was worse than getting shot," she muttered, her voice shaky but laced with a hint of dry humor.
Lucien's lips twitched into a faint smile, though his eyes remained sharp, still scanning her for any signs of lingering distress. "You handled it," he said quietly, his tone carrying a note of respect.
But before either of them could relax, Lucien shifted slightly, and Taryn's gaze caught on the dark stain that had spread across his shoulder. The makeshift bandage was soaked through, the wound beneath it refusing to close.
"Lucien," she said sharply, pushing herself upright. "Your shoulder—why isn't it healing?"
He glanced down, frowning. "It should've…" His voice trailed off, and for the first time, uncertainty flickered across his face.
Taryn didn't waste a second. She grabbed the satchel at his side, pulling out a needle and thread. "Take off your shirt," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Lucien raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of his usual humor returning. "A little forward, don't you think?"
"Shut up and do it," Taryn snapped, her hands already threading the needle.
Lucien complied, wincing as he shrugged out of the torn fabric. The wound was deep, the edges ragged and angry-looking. Taryn's stomach tightened at the sight, but she kept her focus sharp.
"This is going to hurt," she warned, echoing his earlier words.
Lucien smirked faintly. "I'll manage."
Taryn leaned in, her hands steady as she began stitching the wound. Each pull of the thread drew a sharp intake of breath from Lucien, but he stayed still, his eyes locked on her face.
For a moment, the world around them faded, the only sound the quiet rhythm of her work and their shared breathing. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable, their proximity laced with unspoken tension.
"You're too good at this," Lucien murmured, his voice low.
Taryn didn't look up, her focus on the needle. "I've had practice."
Lucien's smirk softened into something more genuine. "Lucky me."
Taryn tied off the last stitch, her hands steady despite the weight of the moment. She sat back on her heels, her breath still uneven, and wiped the sweat from her brow. The faint flicker of relief in Lucien's eyes quickly dimmed as he took in her exhaustion.
"Try and rest." She nearly demanded.
"You're the one who should be resting," Lucien said, his voice quiet but firm. "That wound took too much out of you."
Taryn gave him a look, sharp and unyielding despite her obvious fatigue. "I'm not the one bleeding out," she countered.
Lucien's smirk was faint, but there. "Touché."
A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the rustling of leaves overhead. Lucien leaned back against the rough bark, his breathing steady but his silver eyes still sharp, scanning their surroundings. Taryn sat opposite him, her posture tense, her hand pressed lightly to her side where the wound had been. The quiet between them was thick, charged with the weight of their escape.
"We've had worse days," Lucien finally said, his voice low and dry.
Taryn shot him a glance, one brow arched. "Have we?"
Lucien's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Well, maybe not worse. But equally miserable."
Taryn let out a quiet huff of laughter, though it quickly gave way to a wince. She shifted, her back pressing more firmly against the earthen wall. "Could've fooled me."
Lucien's gaze softened as it flicked to her side. "How's the pain?"
"It's fine," Taryn muttered, though her tone lacked conviction.
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Lucien didn't press her, but the tension in his shoulders eased only slightly. He studied her for a moment longer before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You handled it better than most would."
Taryn shrugged, her expression guarded. "Survival doesn't leave room for weakness."
Lucien's smirk faded, his silver eyes darkening. "No, it doesn't."
The silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the distant hoot of an owl. Taryn's gaze drifted to the jagged tear in Lucien's shirt, the bloodied edges around the wound she had stitched earlier.
"You didn't do too bad yourself," she said quietly, her voice almost contemplative.
Lucien raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "When?"
"When I stitched you up," Taryn clarified, her eyes not meeting his. "Most people would've at least complained."
Lucien's smirk returned, softer this time. "I trust your hands more than most."
She wanted to laugh it off, but his words settled uncomfortably in her chest. Even now, with Lucien's warmth still lingering against her skin, the bond's insistent pull left her uneasy. Trust was dangerous. And yet, with him, it felt terrifyingly easy. Every time she let her guard down, it felt like stepping closer to a ledge she was going to be pushed from.
Taryn snorted, the sound light but genuine. "That makes one of us."
For a moment, the tension between them shifted, softened by the quiet hum of shared exhaustion. Lucien's gaze lingered on her, his usual teasing demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable.
"Taryn," he said, his voice quieter now, more deliberate.
The air between them felt heavier now, charged with an unspoken tension. Lucien shifted closer, the space between them shrinking as his eyes searched hers. His hand lifted, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
"Don't start something you can't finish," Taryn murmured, though there was no heat in her words—only a quiet challenge.
Lucien's smirk curved into something darker, more intent. "Who says I won't finish it?"
Before Taryn could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was both deliberate and unyielding. The weight of their survival, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins, fueled the heat between them.
For a moment, she let herself fall into it, the heat and the desperation drowning out the voice in her head warning her this was a mistake.
The bond thrummed between them, insistent and unyielding, pulling her closer even as her mind screamed to keep her distance. It wasn't just her desire or even his—it was something deeper, more primal, urging her to close the gap, to surrender to the pull that bound their fates together.
And Taryn didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, careful of the fresh stitches. Lucien's grip on her waist tightened, pulling her closer as the tension between them snapped, giving way to something raw and undeniable.
Taryn's breath hitched as Lucien deepened the kiss. His hands slid to her hips, his grip firm as he pulled her onto his lap, closing the last sliver of space between them. The sharp ache in her side was momentarily forgotten, lost beneath the heat of his touch and the wild rhythm of her pounding heart.
Her fingers curled into his hair, tugging just enough to draw a low growl from his throat. The sound sent a jolt of electricity through her, fanning the flames already burning between them. Lucien's lips left hers, trailing down the curve of her jaw to the sensitive skin of her neck. His breath was hot, his pace unyielding, each touch igniting a fresh spark of urgency.
Taryn's hands roamed over his chest, her palms sliding against the taut muscle beneath his torn shirt. She could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingers, matching the frenetic pulse of her own. Lucien's teeth grazed her skin, a deliberate tease that drew a sharp gasp from her lips.
"Lucien—" she began, her voice low, edged with both need and defiance. But he silenced her with another searing kiss, his hands sliding beneath her tunic to grip the bare skin of her waist.
But it wasn't enough—not for either of them.
Lucien's breathing turned ragged, his restraint fraying at the edges. His hands left her waist, moving with a desperate urgency as they slid up her thighs. In one swift motion, he found the waistband of her pants. His fingers curled around the fabric, and he broke the kiss, his voice low and commanding.
"Lift," he murmured, the single word laced with both urgency and desire.
Taryn obeyed without hesitation, her breath hitching as she raised her hips just enough for him to tug the fabric down. His movements were frantic now, driven by the need to feel her fully, to erase every barrier between them. He pushed her pants down past her knees, his hands working with almost reckless speed, discarding the material without care for where it landed.
Once free of the restrictive fabric, Lucien's hands returned to her thighs, gripping them firmly as he pulled her back onto his lap. The contact was electric, the heat between them blazing as they met. Taryn gasped, her fingers curling into his shoulders for balance as his hands slid up to her hips, holding her steady.
Lucien's silver eyes darkened, his gaze flicking over her with a mix of hunger and reverence. "Better," he murmured, his voice rough with need, before capturing her lips again in a kiss that was both fierce and unrelenting.
Their movements were feverish now, driven by the lingering adrenaline of their near escape and the unspoken tension that had been building for far too long. Each touch, each kiss, was a claiming—a silent acknowledgment of the dangerous line they were crossing.
Taryn's body pressed against his, the world around them narrowing to the heat of their connection and the raw intensity of the moment. There was no room for hesitation, no space for second thoughts. Their breaths mingled, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they surrendered to the storm between them.
Lucien's hands steadied on Taryn's hips, his grip firm as he kept her straddled over him. Their chests pressed together, every rise and fall of their breath synchronizing, as if their bodies were moving to the same primal rhythm. His silver eyes locked onto hers, intense and unyielding, and without breaking the connection, he shifted his hips upward, pressing into her core.
Taryn gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders for support. The sensation sent a shockwave through her, a deep, raw heat spreading from where their bodies met. Lucien's smirk returned, but this time, it was darker, his satisfaction evident as he felt her react to him.
"Taryn," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, vibrating against her lips as he pulled her closer.
She didn't respond with words; instead, she rolled her hips against him, drawing a guttural sound from his throat. Her fingers dug into his back, holding him steady as she moved with purpose, meeting his rhythm with an intensity that matched his own.
Lucien's hands roamed her body, one sliding up to tangle in her hair, pulling her down for another searing kiss. The heat between them grew unbearable, every shift of their bodies igniting sparks that spread like wildfire. His other hand gripped her waist, guiding her movements as he pressed harder into her, the friction between them building with every passing second.
Taryn broke the kiss, her breathing ragged. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her lips parted as she whispered, "Don't hold back."
Lucien's answering growl was low and possessive. "Never."
He tightened his grip, his hips driving upward with more force, and Taryn's head fell back, a sharp moan escaping her lips. The tension between them coiled tighter, every movement pushing them closer to the edge, their bodies perfectly attuned to each other.
The world around them faded completely, leaving only the heat, the pressure, and the overwhelming need for release. They moved together in a relentless rhythm, the urgency of their connection erasing any lingering doubts or fears.
Lucien's hands slid back to her hips, holding her firmly as he thrust against her, his control slipping with every pulse of heat. "Taryn…" he murmured, his voice strained, heavy with need.
"Lucien," she moaned, her voice breaking giving away the storm raging within her.
Lucien's response was immediate—he thrust upward, pressing into her core with more force, and Taryn gasped, her nails digging into his back. The sharp, electrifying sensation rippled through her, leaving her trembling in his grasp.
Their breathing grew heavier, the heat between them almost unbearable. Taryn rocked her hips against him, matching his intensity, her body craving more. Every movement, every touch, pushed them closer to the edge, the world around them fading into nothingness.
Lucien's hands slid up her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. His lips found hers again, the kiss deep and consuming, their shared urgency driving them both toward the breaking point.
"Don't stop." she whispered, her voice equally breathless, her forehead resting against his.
Lucien's silver eyes locked onto hers, his gaze blazing with intensity. He shifted beneath her, his movements more deliberate, more focused, as he pressed deeper into her. The friction, the heat, the raw connection between them—it all coiled tighter, the tension almost unbearable.
Taryn's grip on him tightened, her body trembling as she felt the rush of sensations overwhelm her. Lucien's hands moved back to her hips, anchoring her as their pace quickened, the rhythm of their movements growing more erratic.
Together, they pushed past the edge, the fire between them burning bright and fierce, consuming every last ounce of their restraint. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, lost in the intensity of their connection, the world around them reduced to nothing but heat, breath, and the sound of their hearts pounding in unison.
As the waves of pleasure ebbed, they held onto each other, their breathing slowly evening out. Taryn rested her forehead against Lucien's shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along his skin. Lucien's hands remained on her waist, his thumbs brushing soothing circles as they both came down from the high.
For a while, neither of them spoke, the silence between them heavy but comforting. Finally, Lucien broke the quiet, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "You know, if this is how you plan to treat your rescues, I might have to start getting myself hurt more often."
Taryn's lips twitched, a faint smile breaking through her post-coital haze. "Whatever. You are constantly injured anyway."
She leaned back slightly, putting a sliver of space between them. Her eyes flicked down to where her hands still rested on his chest, then back up to meet his gaze. The air between them shifted subtly as reality began to creep back in.
Lucien raised an eyebrow, his smirk never fading. "Regretting your choices already?"
Taryn snorted, shaking her head as she pushed herself off his lap, ignoring the dull ache in her side. "Please." She deflected.
Lucien's laugh was low, genuine, as he leaned back against the tree, his silver eyes following her every move. "I don't know. Feels like I just won the war."
Taryn rolled her eyes, brushing her hair back from her face. "Don't get used to it."
Lucien watched her with a lazy grin, clearly enjoying her attempt to regain her usual guarded composure. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."
She shot him a glare, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her with the slightest twitch. "You're insufferable."
"And yet, here we are," he said, spreading his arms theatrically. "Still alive, still in one piece—thanks to our impeccable teamwork."
Taryn snorted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the hollow's wall. "If by teamwork you mean you being injured and me doing all the heavy lifting, then sure. Great job."
Lucien chuckled, unbothered by her jab. "Hey, I held my own."
"Whatever, you were dead weight." Taryn shot back, her tone light, teasing.
Lucien placed a hand over his heart, feigning a look of deep offense. "You wound me, Taryn."
"You'll live," she said with a shrug, though her gaze softened slightly as it flicked to his still-healing shoulder. "At least until next time."
Lucien's smirk returned, but there was a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. "There's always a next time with us, isn't there?"
Taryn didn't answer immediately, her gaze drifting to the forest, where the mist concealed endless threats. "Seems like it," she said, her voice quieter now, as if acknowledging more than just the immediate danger.
Lucien shifted, gently tapping her knee with his. "Good thing we're both too stubborn to quit."
Taryn's lips curved into a faint smile. "Yeah. Good thing."
The silence that followed was more familiar now, the sharp edge of intimacy dulled back into something easier, something safer. Lucien stretched, wincing slightly as his shoulder protested the movement.
"We should rest while we can," he said, his tone shifting to something more practical. "The bounty hunter won't let us slip away so easily next time."
Taryn nodded, already pulling her cloak tighter around her. "I'll take the first watch."
Lucien opened his mouth to argue, but the look Taryn gave him silenced him. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. But wake me up if anything moves out there."
"Trust me," Taryn said, her voice low but steady, her gaze locked on the forest. "I won't let my guard down."
Lucien leaned back once more, his smirk returning. "That's what I love about you."
Love. Taryn chose not to look too far into that.
Instead she rolled her eyes and didn't respond, her attention already shifting to the task at hand.
It was easier this way, keeping things light, keeping him at arm's length. She wasn't ready for the weight of whatever simmered beneath their banter—if she ever would be.
Lucien closed his eyes, the faintest smile lingering on his lips as he let the exhaustion take hold.
Taryn leaned back against the hollow's wall, her exhaustion finally catching up to her. The pain in her side throbbed, a dull reminder of just how close they had come to losing everything today.
For now, they would rest. But the fight was far from over, and next time, neither could afford hesitation.
Even in the quiet, the bond lingered like a low hum beneath her skin, reminding her that no matter how far she tried to push Lucien away, they were tied by something neither could fully understand—or escape.
Together, they'd face whatever came next, even if they couldn't yet name what bound them beyond survival.