"I think I'm ready," Eva whispered, eyes shimmering in the candlelight.
Kyel looked at her for a long moment, as if making sure she meant it. Then, slowly, carefully, he leaned closer. He could hear her breath, soft and hesitant. When his lips brushed hers, it was featherlight, a whisper of warmth.
Eva twitched at the first touch, her eyes wide—then fluttered shut.
He deepened the kiss with gentle passion, their breaths mingling. She gasped softly, murmuring, "I need air," but her hands didn't pull away.
Their lips met again, more eager this time. Their tongues touched briefly, the sensation sending a shiver through her. Kyel's hand slowly moved to her thigh, his fingers brushing the edge of her gown, his intentions tender but clear.
But suddenly—Eva flinched.
Her body tensed beneath his touch.
And then, she began to tremble.
Kyel froze. He pulled back immediately, concern written across his face.
"Princess?" he whispered. "Are you okay?"
Eva nodded faintly. "I'm okay. Let's… let's continue."
But Kyel didn't move. He searched her face, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You don't have to push yourself," he said softly. "I don't want this if it's forced. I'd never want to hurt you."
Eva's lip trembled. And then, quietly, she began to cry.
"But… it's been so long. And no matter how much I try, I still can't. I want to—but I just… I can't. I'm sorry, Kyel."
He wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her against his chest.
"Don't apologize," he said into her hair. "You don't have to be sorry. This isn't your fault. I told you—I'll wait until you're ready."
Her breathing calmed in his arms, the weight of guilt slipping from her shoulders. She clutched his shirt and eventually fell asleep, her cheek pressed softly against his chest.
Some time passed.
From the open window, a gentle wind stirred the curtain.
One of Kyel's summoned wolves emerged silently from the shadows. In its jaws, it carried the lunch basket—the one Eva had dropped earlier.
Kyel looked at it, and the realization struck him like a wave.
So that's what this is about…
"She saw," he murmured.
He turned to the wolf. "Did she… cry?"
The wolf gave a slow nod.
Kyel's gaze softened. He looked down at Eva, still curled against him in sleep, her breathing calm but face still damp with dried tears.
He gently brushed her cheek with his knuckles and whispered, "I'm sorry… for making you worry."
Then he leaned down, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
Outside, the wolves stood guard once more—silent protectors of a fragile love, growing stronger with every test.