Rafe

The morning air was crisp, colder than usual, as the first pale light of dawn crept through the trees. I hadn’t slept much. Not because of the cold—that was easy enough to handle. No, it was the quiet weight of Elena leaning against me, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the unfamiliar softness that had settled between us. It felt both strange and… unsettlingly natural.

I shifted slightly, watching as the morning light began to edge over the horizon. Elena was still asleep, her back pressed against my chest, her warmth radiating into me. The camp was silent, save for the rustling of leaves overhead, but there was something undeniably loud about this closeness. Something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in a long time. I’d promised myself I’d keep a distance, stay guarded, but the lines between necessity and choice were blurring.

My arm rested around her waist, a natural position now, though I knew it shouldn’t be. I could feel the weight of her, soft and relaxed, and my mind flitted back to all the other times I’d chosen distance, solitude. Safety. And yet here I was, leaning into the warmth of someone who’d started as a stranger.

She stirred, and I let my arm slip away slowly, careful not to startle her. But as she turned, her gaze met mine, her eyes still hazy with sleep.

“Morning,” she whispered, her voice soft, vulnerable.

I nodded, my expression as neutral as I could make it. “Morning.”

She blinked, as if processing the memory of last night, and then her lips curved into a small smile. “You’re still here.”

I tilted my head, giving a slight shrug. “Didn’t want you to be cold.”

She seemed surprised, a flicker of warmth lighting up her face before she nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured.

I offered a brief nod, looking away to avoid the intensity of her gaze. “We should get going soon. We’ll reach the seer by sundown if we make good time.”

Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than I’d expected, as if searching for something in the silence. But then she nodded, and we both began to pack up the camp, each lost in our own thoughts.

Elena

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

As the day wore on, the wind picked up, cutting through our cloaks and sapping the warmth from our bones. The chill was relentless, a harsh reminder of just how unforgiving this terrain could be. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, we were both too exhausted to push forward any longer. We’d have to spend another night in the open.

We found a small clearing and set up camp as quickly as possible, both of us working in tired silence. The wind howled through the trees, making even simple tasks like lighting a fire feel like a struggle. Eventually, Rafe managed to get a small flame going, and we sat close, hands outstretched, savoring what little warmth it offered.

I pulled my cloak tightly around me as I chewed on a bit of dried meat, eyeing Rafe as he settled beside me. “Not much of a dinner,” I muttered, the words half swallowed by the wind. “But I suppose it beats going hungry.”

Rafe’s gaze shifted to the fire, his eyes calm and unbothered, as usual. “Could’ve been worse,” he said, his voice low and steady. “At least we’re not out in the open.”

I smiled wryly. “I suppose there’s always a silver lining.”

“We should make it to the seer tomorrow if the weather cooperates,” he offered quietly.

We ate in silence, the warmth of the fire a temporary reprieve from the cold that pressed in on us from all sides. As the flames began to die down, I pulled my bedroll close, eager to escape the biting wind under the blankets. But the chill was relentless, and despite my best efforts, I could feel it creeping into my bones.

I barely had time to shiver before Rafe was beside me, his movements as quiet and efficient as ever. He spread his bedroll next to mine, slipping under the covers with me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

This time, there was no hesitation, no awkward exchange. Just the steady warmth of him as he settled in behind me, his arm slipping around my waist to block the wind. I let out a sigh of relief, feeling the cold melt away as his body heat wrapped around me.

We lay there in silence for a few moments, our breaths mingling in the cold night air. The wind howled around us, but under the blankets, it felt like our own little world—a quiet haven against the storm.

“Not much for conversation tonight, huh?” I murmured, half-joking as I nestled deeper into his warmth.

Rafe’s arm tightened slightly around my waist, and he shifted to block the wind even more. “Rest,” he said simply, his voice a low rumble. “We’ll need the energy.”

I smiled to myself, the sound of his steady voice strangely comforting. For a man who said so little, he managed to make every word count. The quiet confidence in his presence, the steady warmth he offered—it felt like something I could trust, even rely on.

As I closed my eyes, letting myself drift into sleep, my mind wandered back to the small things I’d noticed about him along this journey. The calm precision of his movements, the rare flicker of amusement in his eyes when I least expected it, the way he’d effortlessly charmed information out of that shopkeeper. There were layers to Rafe, layers I was only just beginning to uncover. And the more I saw, the more I found myself wanting to know.

“Thank you,” I murmured softly, not expecting a response.

But he shifted beside me, his breath warm against my hair. “Sleep, Elena.”

I felt his arm tighten, grounding me against the cold, and for the first time in a long while, I let myself lean into the comfort of someone else’s presence.