Rafe

The fire crackled weakly, casting flickering shadows across the camp as I scanned the dark, cloud-covered sky. The wind had picked up, carrying a biting chill that even my cloak couldn’t entirely block out. I glanced across the fire at Elena, who sat huddled in her bedroll, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Her teeth were just beginning to chatter.

My gaze lingered a moment longer than it should have. I could still hear her muttering about the shopkeeper in Isley, even after all the miles we’d put between us and that place. Garrick had practically tripped over himself for me, all because I’d thrown him a half-smile and leaned in with a bit of charm. The memory still felt surreal—and, frankly, unsettling. That side of myself was a tool, something I used when necessary. It shouldn’t matter if Garrick had responded exactly as I’d wanted him to.

But watching Elena’s expression shift from amusement to surprise had left me… strangely off balance.

Even now, I could feel her eyes on me, as if she was seeing something I hadn’t meant to show. She’d barely stopped pestering me about it since we left the shop, prodding for answers, teasing with that dry humor of hers. I half-expected her to bring it up again, but now, with the cold settling in, she’d finally gone quiet, just focused on staying warm.

Another gust of wind tore through the clearing, and I saw her shiver visibly, huddling closer to the dying fire. The temperature was dropping fast, the mountains to the north casting an early evening chill over us.

I should look away. I should focus on my own bedroll and let her deal with it. But… I couldn’t ignore the way she kept rubbing her hands together, or the way her breath was coming in short, fogged puffs. If she stayed out here on her own, she’d barely get a wink of sleep.

A feeling I could only call exasperation settled over me. I wasn’t supposed to care about things like this, wasn’t supposed to get tangled up in concern for anyone—not in the way that would lead me to break my own rules. Traveling light, keeping my distance… it was safer that way. For both of us.

But, damn it.

Before I fully processed my decision, I grabbed my bedroll and crossed the camp to where she lay, spreading it out beside hers. Her eyes widened in surprise, a hint of confusion flickering across her face.

“Move over,” I said, my tone gruff. I kept my face neutral, hoping she wouldn’t read too much into this.

“What?” she murmured, blinking up at me.

I crouched down, nodding at her to scoot over. “You’re freezing. Move over.”

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For a moment, she just stared at me, clearly taken aback. But after a beat, she shifted aside, making room for me to lie down beside her. I stretched out next to her, blocking the wind with my body and pulling the edge of her blanket over us both.

As the fire crackled, I could feel the warmth starting to return to her body, her shivers gradually subsiding. And I had to admit, as unsettling as this closeness was, it was… also grounding, in a strange way. She was soft, real, and irritatingly charming. Even now, her presence tugged at my awareness, making me hyper-conscious of each shift, each breath she took.

I turned my gaze toward the shadows beyond the fire, trying to keep my mind focused on anything but the warmth between us.

Elena

It took me a second to realize what was happening—that Rafe, usually so closed off and distant, had not only crossed the camp to lie down next to me, but had also pulled my blanket over us both like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn’t look at me. His eyes were fixed on the fire, his expression as stoic as ever. But I couldn’t ignore the warmth radiating from him, seeping through the thin fabric of my cloak and into my bones. The wind continued to howl around us, but it felt distant now, muffled by his solid presence beside me.

For a while, I just lay there, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. Rafe had gone out of his way to make sure I wasn’t cold. The same Rafe who barely spoke in complete sentences, who had a sense of humor so dry you’d need a map to find it, and who had charmed information out of a flirty shopkeeper without batting an eye.

The memory made me smirk, even as I shifted slightly to get more comfortable. I’d watched him lay it on thick with Garrick, smiling and leaning in like he was some kind of knight from a romance tale. And the way Garrick had responded, all wide eyes and eager nods… well, it made me wonder. Just who was Rafe, really? And how many different faces could he put on when he needed to?

My curiosity was a familiar itch, one I knew I’d have to scratch eventually. But for now, I didn’t want to break the quiet. The night felt fragile, like one wrong word could shatter whatever unspoken truce lay between us. So I stayed still, listening to the steady sound of his breathing, feeling the warmth from his body seep into mine.

It wasn’t just his proximity that surprised me—it was the fact that I liked it. More than liked it, if I was being honest. I’d spent so much time on my own that having someone lie beside me, close enough to feel their presence, felt… safe. And comforting, in a way I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.

“Do you do this often?” I murmured, half-joking, half-curious. “You know, rescuing people from the cold?”

He didn’t turn his head, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his tone. “Only when they’re stubborn enough to need it.”

I rolled my eyes, nudging his arm with my elbow. “I’m not stubborn.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly. “Right. And I’m a bard.”

The words drew a small laugh from me, a sound that felt surprisingly loud in the quiet night. His dry humor was unexpected, and I found myself charmed by it despite myself. For all his gruffness, there was something about Rafe that was… intriguing. Mysterious, yes. But also strangely familiar, like he’d always been meant to be here beside me.

As the fire crackled softly and the night settled in around us, I realized something. I wasn’t sure what Rafe’s story was, but I wanted to find out. The curiosity tugged at me, a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time. And maybe—just maybe—he felt it too.

I glanced over at him, wondering if he’d be just as unreadable in the morning. But for now, it didn’t matter. He’d bridged the gap between us, even if he didn’t realize it. And for tonight, that was enough.