Zeff

I noticed her trembling, her body shaking with cold and adrenaline. She was soaked to the skin, her clothes clinging to her like a second layer, and her lips had started to turn a faint shade of blue. I shook my wet hair, the droplets spraying around us, and gestured for her to follow me.

“Come on,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “You’re shaking like a leaf. Let’s get you somewhere warm.”

As we moved along the riverbank, I glanced over at her. Her eyes were wide with a mix of shock and amazement, and she kept stealing glances at me. I realized then how drenched I was, my clothes sticking to my skin, outlining every muscle of my well-defined physique.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Zeff,” she stammered, her teeth chattering slightly.

I turned to her, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Don’t be. You’re the one who’s shaking, Liliam. Let’s get you warmed up.”

She nodded, still a bit dazed, and I led the way. We followed a narrow, overgrown path that wound through the trees, the foliage thickening around us. The sounds of the forest enveloped us again, but this time, it felt more comforting than daunting. I knew exactly where we were going, and I could sense Liliam’s curiosity growing with each step.

After a few minutes of walking, we arrived at a small, hidden cottage nestled against the side of a hill, almost blending into the surrounding rock. It looked as if it had been carved directly into the hill itself, with a small wooden door and a few windows, the glass fogged over with age.

“This is a quick hideout I made years back when I spent days out here in the forest,” I explained, pushing the door open.

Liliam looked at me in surprise. “You’ve spent days in here?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “I’m a nature guy, Liz. Sometimes you need a place to get away from everything, you know?”

She nodded, stepping inside. The interior was small but cozy. There was a fireplace in the corner, a simple wooden table with two chairs, and a small bed tucked against one wall. The walls were lined with shelves holding a collection of old books, tools, and supplies. It was my hideout over the years.

“I’ll get a fire going,” I said, moving toward the fireplace. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold.”

She hesitated, glancing around the room. I could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way she bit her lower lip. “I… I don’t have anything to change into.”

I nodded, rummaging through a small chest in the corner. “Here,” I said, pulling out a large, soft blanket. “Wrap yourself in this. It’s not much, but it’ll help you warm up until your clothes dry.”

She took the blanket with a grateful smile, her fingers brushing against mine. “Thank you, Zeff.”

I turned away, focusing on the task of building the fire. Within minutes, the flames were crackling, casting a warm, flickering light throughout the small cottage. The heat began to fill the room, pushing back the chill of the river water.

As I knelt by the fire, feeding the flames with another log, my enhanced senses picked up the faint, but unmistakable sound of her drenched clothes slipping to the floor. The soft thud reverberated through me, sending a jolt of awareness straight to my core. My nostrils flared as I caught a whiff of her scent—clean, earthy, with a hint of something sweet and intoxicating that was uniquely hers. The memory of her touch, her warmth pressed against me just moments ago, flashed through my mind, and I felt my muscles tense involuntarily.

The thought of her, standing there, vulnerable and naked behind me, was almost too much to bear. My heart rate quickened, the primal part of me responding to the very idea of her in such a state. I forced myself to focus on the task at hand, but it was impossible to ignore the effect she was having on me. My wolf, Gaius, growled low within me, urging me to turn around, to claim what was ours.

“How about you?” her voice broke through my thoughts, soft and tinged with a vulnerability that made my chest tighten.

I swallowed hard, trying to shake off the haze of desire clouding my mind. I knew I had to get a grip. But her scent, her presence, it was all-consuming. I stood up and, with deliberate slowness, pulled off my hoodie. The fabric clung to my skin for a moment before peeling away, leaving my chest exposed to the cool air.

I heard her breath hitch, her gaze fixating on my bare torso. I could feel her eyes on me, trailing over the defined lines of my muscles, the slight sheen of sweat that clung to my skin from the exertion of our earlier hike. I resisted the urge to flex, to show off more than necessary, but damn, it was hard not to when I knew she was watching.

“I know how to survive like this,” I said, my voice a bit rougher than I intended, the tension in the room palpable.

I caught her glance, her eyes not leaving my exposed chest, and something primal inside me stirred. My wolf was on edge, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the way her scent had deepened with something warm and inviting. The air between us felt electric, charged with unspoken desire.

She bit her lip, and I noticed how her grip tightened on the blanket around her shoulders. My eyes traced the curve of her neck, where her pulse was visibly racing, and I could imagine—no, I could almost feel—the softness of her skin under my hands. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to close the distance between us, not to pull her into my arms and let nature take its course.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Instead, I forced myself to take a step back, to put some distance between us before I did something we might both regret. “Liliam,” I began, trying to inject some calm into my voice, “we should focus on getting you warmed up.”

But as I said the words, I knew they were only a half-truth. Warming her up was only part of what I wanted to do. The other part… well, that was a different kind of warmth altogether.

Liliam leaned down on the small bed, her body trembling beneath the blanket. Her voice was shaky, laced with embarrassment as she whispered, “I’m such a clumsy mess, sorry. You wouldn’t have gotten drenched if it wasn’t for me.”

I glanced at her, her words tinged with guilt, and I tried to lighten the mood. “Well, I did have fun,” I said, offering her a small smile as I settled down on the floor beside the bed. The warmth from the crackling fire reached out toward us, casting a soft glow across the small room. Outside, the rhythmic patter of rain continued, a steady backdrop to the quiet that had fallen between us.

But the silence wasn’t entirely peaceful. I could hear the small shivers that wracked her body beneath the blanket, see the way she curled up tightly for warmth.

I stood up and went to the cabinet, rummaging through until I found a bottle of vodka. Alcohol didn’t affect me much as a wolf, but for humans, it could help stave off the cold. I held the bottle in my hand, hesitating for a second before walking back over to her.

“Here,” I offered, handing the bottle to her. “It’ll help you warm up faster.”

With one hand still clutching the blanket tightly around her, she reached out and took the bottle with the other. She tipped it back and took a gulp, immediately hissing at the burn. “Damn, I forgot how strong this is.”

She took another sip, and I watched the way her face scrunched up, fighting against the heat of the liquor. My eyes drifted, unintentionally catching the outline of her body beneath the covers. The firelight highlighted the curve of her shoulder, the way the blanket clung to her as she shifted, and I had to mentally slap myself. I looked away, forcing my gaze back to the fire, the warmth on my skin doing little to combat the sudden flush that had crept up inside me.

This wasn’t the time for thoughts like that, but being this close to her, in this small space, with the storm outside—it was messing with my head.

Liliam sighed, her body relaxing a little as the vodka seemed to take effect, loosening the tension in her muscles. “Thanks,” she said softly, her voice calmer now. “I think it’s helping.”

I nodded, still staring into the flames. “Good,” I murmured, my voice a little rougher than I intended. I tried to shake off the thoughts swirling in my head, focusing instead on the crackling fire, the sound of rain hitting the roof, anything but the warmth radiating from her so close by.

I heard her take another gulp from the bottle of vodka, the sound breaking the quiet that had settled between us. The fire continued to crackle softly, filling the room with a steady warmth, but there was a deliberate silence that stretched between us, thick with unspoken tension. My senses were hyper-aware of everything: the subtle shift of the blanket as she moved, the soft patter of rain that had begun to ease, and the steady rhythm of her breath.

Then, I felt it—her fingers, barely brushing against my hair. It was a light touch, so gentle I almost thought I imagined it, but it sent a ripple of sensation through me, like a current sparking in the air between us.

“Zeff…” she said quietly, her voice hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if she should say more. But the way she said my name—soft, almost vulnerable—sent a strange tug through my chest, pulling me toward her in a way I hadn’t anticipated. I looked up, and my heart stuttered for a moment.

Her eyes met mine, and in that instant, something unspoken passed between us. There was a depth there, something simmering just beneath the surface, but I couldn’t quite place it. She glanced away quickly, biting her lip as she tucked herself deeper into the blanket, pulling it tighter around her like a shield. I could see the hint of a flush creeping across her cheeks, though I couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol or something else entirely.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice softer now, gentler. I could feel the shift in the atmosphere, the weight of whatever she was holding back.

She shook her head, just a small, barely-there movement. “Nothing,” she whispered, but her tone didn’t match the word. She paused, then added, “Just… thanks for being here.” A faint smile tugged at her lips, but it was fragile, not quite reaching her eyes. “I know I make things more difficult sometimes.”

I frowned at that, leaning in a little closer without thinking. The need to reassure her, to close the distance between us, was stronger than my caution. “You don’t make things difficult, Liliam,” I said firmly. There was an edge of conviction in my voice that I hadn’t expected. “You’re doing your best, and I’m here because I want to be. There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

Her eyes lifted to meet mine again, and this time, the connection between us felt undeniable. It was something we hadn’t said out loud but had been building for a while. The way the firelight flickered, casting shadows across her face, only seemed to deepen that feeling. The pull between us felt almost tangible, like the space separating us wasn’t nearly enough to keep me from wanting to close it entirely.

I took a breath, trying to steady myself, trying to hold back the thoughts swirling in my head. “Just get some rest,” I said, leaning back slightly, though I had to force myself to break the tension. “You need it.”

She nodded, sinking further into the bed, her body still trembling just slightly. I could tell she was warming up, the cold gradually leaving her, but the way her eyes lingered on mine before she closed them… that stayed with me. It was as if she had wanted to say something more but had held herself back.

I settled back down beside the bed, keeping my distance, though it felt like the hardest thing in the world to do. My eyes went back to the fire, watching the flames dance, but my mind was anything but calm. The room was filled with the soft crackling of the wood, the rhythmic patter of the last drops of rain on the roof, and the sound of Liliam’s quiet breathing.

But the storm between us hadn’t passed. It lingered, brewing just beneath the surface, waiting for something—waiting for one of us to break the silence, to step forward into the unknown.

I could feel it—like gravity pulling us together, a tension that neither of us could deny, yet both of us seemed reluctant to fully acknowledge. I clenched my hands into fists, forcing myself to focus on the warmth of the fire rather than the warmth I wanted to share with her.

My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, sensing the tension, the unspoken desires that hung in the air between us. It wanted to act, to close the distance, but I had to keep control. Liliam needed rest, needed to feel safe, and the last thing I wanted was to overwhelm her with my own feelings, especially when I wasn’t even sure where hers stood.

As the firelight flickered, casting a soft glow across the room, I found my gaze drifting back to her. She was quiet, her eyes closed, but I could tell from the soft, uneven rhythm of her breathing that she wasn’t fully asleep. The blanket shifted slightly, and I could still see the outline of her body beneath it.

I closed my eyes, taking a slow, deep breath to calm the thoughts racing through my mind. The urge to reach out, to touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin against mine, was almost overwhelming. But I couldn’t—*shouldn’t*. Not now. Not like this.

Instead, I stayed where I was, letting the silence stretch between us. The storm outside had softened to a gentle drizzle, but inside, the tension between us still hung heavy in the air, waiting.

The night wore on, and though the fire warmed the room, the heat between us—unspoken, yet undeniable—remained.