CHAPTER 157: INTIMACY

She had laid her feelings bare in her own way, and if I turned from it now, I would only be denying the truth we were both standing in.

So I stepped forward, closing the last sliver of distance, and pressed my mouth to hers.

Her lips were warm, unexpectedly soft, and the sensation unraveled something tight inside me. The contact was clumsy at first, almost reckless in the way I leaned into it, but the moment I felt her breathe against me, a deep, unspoken urge took over. I kissed her harder, not out of hunger alone, but from the sheer relief of no longer holding back.

Zarah stiffened in surprise, her body going taut beneath my hands, and for a fleeting moment I thought I had made a mistake. But then she exhaled, a sound half-caught between hesitation and surrender, and her lips pressed back against mine with deliberate weight.

The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried despite the storm raging in my chest. There was no rush, no battle for dominance, only the strange, almost fragile rhythm of two people who had skirted around this moment for far too long.

Time slipped.

I lost sense of where we were — the grit of dirt beneath our feet, the faint sting of sweat on my brow — all of it faded until there was only her.

When at last we pulled apart, it wasn’t because the desire had burned out, but because the intensity left us breathless. I drew in air like a man who had been underwater too long, and she mirrored me, chest rising and falling in quiet, uneven waves.

Our breaths mingled in rhythm, rising and falling together as though our lungs had conspired to move in perfect synchrony.

I kept my eyes locked on hers, and she held my gaze without flinching, as if daring me to look away first.

Her eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, and for a dangerous moment I thought I could lose myself entirely in their depth.

They weren’t just beautiful; they were consuming, pulling me in with a force I didn’t have the strength to resist.

Her skin was warm beneath my touch, smoother than I’d expected, carrying a faint sheen that caught what little light there was and made her look unreal.

My chest tightened, my heart hammering so hard I thought she could hear it. Heat surged through me, flooding lower with a sharp, undeniable ache that I couldn’t ignore.

Goddamn it.

She wasn’t just beautiful.

She was fire, and every second I lingered near her, I burned hotter.

I bent lower, unable to stop myself, pressing my lips back to hers before trailing downward, kissing the line of her jaw and then the curve of her neck.

The taste of her skin — salt, sweat, and something faintly sweet — only made me crave more.

I sucked at her pulse point with a hunger I hadn’t felt in years, and her body tensed before a quiet sound slipped past her lips, half-gasp, half-whisper.

It drove me mad.

I wanted this. I wanted her. I wanted every piece of her without restraint or hesitation, and the force of that need was enough to make my thoughts blur.

The intensity grew too fast, too heavy to stay standing.

In the next moment we toppled, gravity dragging us down until we hit the ground together, tangled in each other’s arms, neither one of us willing to let go.

We were so caught up in each other that the world beyond us ceased to exist.

Coverings slipped away without thought, discarded in a rush of hands too eager to linger anywhere but still too desperate to stop moving.

Our bodies pressed together, skin to skin, every touch igniting sparks that flared into fire.

Her breath came sharp against my ear, mine tangled with hers, and in that frantic closeness I felt something raw and unguarded that I had never let myself feel before.

Every kiss grew heavier, every caress deeper, until hesitation no longer had room between us. What remained was need — not the shallow kind born of impulse, but the kind that anchored itself in the bones, that demanded to be answered.

And when at last we gave in fully, when all restraint broke and we crossed the line we had both danced around for so long, the world outside truly ceased to matter.

There were only us.

Only the heat, the rhythm, the sound of her voice entwined with mine.

And as we moved together, I understood with startling clarity that this was no longer about proving strength or loyalty or worth. This was something else entirely — something that bound us closer than any oath or battle ever could.

*

Moments later, after our coupling, we found ourselves in the pond — the very place where I had once turned her away, where hesitation had outweighed desire.

Now it felt different, almost sacred, as though the water itself carried the weight of what had just shifted between us.

The coolness lapped against our skin as we bathed, washing away the heat and sweat of what had passed.

We didn’t speak; words felt too heavy, too clumsy for the quiet that surrounded us. Instead, we communicated through touch, through the small, unguarded smiles that slipped onto our faces when our eyes met.

Zarah cupped water in her palms and poured it gently down my arm, droplets catching the faint light as they slid off my skin.

I couldn’t help but smile, reaching up to brush a strand of her damp hair back from her face, the simple intimacy grounding me in a way no battle or victory ever had.

And before I could stop myself, I said it.

"I’m doing it tonight."

"Doing what?" she asked softly, her voice barely carrying over the ripples as she continued trailing water across my hand, as though she were determined to keep me anchored in that fragile calm.

"Attacking the enemy clan."

The words left my mouth heavier than I had intended, and the moment they reached her ears she stilled.

Her hand lingered just above the surface of the water, droplets sliding silently from her fingers, as though even the pond itself was waiting for her reply.

I remembered too clearly the last time I had brought this up — how she had objected almost immediately.

She had been firm then, her disapproval sharp, and I braced myself for the same resistance now.

But as I studied her face in the faint light, I found nothing I could read. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes steady but guarded, and it left me unsettled.

I didn’t know what storm might be turning behind them, whether she was weighing her words or simply deciding not to fight me on it anymore.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"Alright."

The single word hit harder than any protest could have.

I blinked, momentarily thrown off balance.

"You’re not going to argue? You’re not going to try and talk me out of it?"

"No... there’s no reason to," she said quietly, her tone steady in a way that caught me off guard. "I believe you will survive and return to me with the head of the enemy. You’re strong enough to achieve that."

Her certainty struck deeper than I expected, and before I could stop myself, a grin tugged at my lips. I reached up, cupping her cheek in my palm, the warmth of her skin grounding me. "You didn’t seem to believe before," I murmured, searching her eyes. "What changed?"

She didn’t look away.

"I also wasn’t too doubtful before," she admitted. "But I had no choice but to consider the chance that you might not come back. And that fear was sharper because my feelings... my desires for you weren’t known. or acknowledged."

She gave me an accusatory look, and I turned away slightly, feeling guilty.

She continued:

"I didn’t want you to die before you understood how I felt."

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself holding my breath as I asked, "And now?"

"Now," she said, her voice softening as her lips curved into the faintest smile, "I’m elated. Though..." She let out a small exhale, her eyes flickering with unspoken worry. "I’m still afraid for you."

Before I could answer, she leaned into me, her forehead brushing mine, her gaze heavy with a desire she didn’t bother hiding anymore. The look alone sent warmth surging through my chest, and I kissed her again — slower this time, deeper, letting her know without words that I understood.

*

Moments later, we blinked back into the cave, the damp air closing around us as reality returned. My hand was still wrapped firmly around hers, unwilling to let go of the fragile connection we had just carved out for ourselves.

Thok and Gobbo were the first to notice. Their eyes flicked toward us immediately, and they both bow bowed and greeted:

"Chief!"

"Chief!"

But before I could return the gesture, Zarah slipped...