"Kewe..." (What...)
Aria's voice barely escaped her lips, her wide eyes filled with confusion and fear. But before she could finish the question, Rayan gently pressed his hand to her mouth.
"Sshhh..." he whispered.
The gesture, though soft, brought their bodies dangerously close. One of his arms was already around her waist, the other now silencing her lips.
Aria's breath caught.
His scent surrounded her. His warmth pressed against her. The world seemed to narrow until it was only him—his hands, his closeness, his steady breath.
Her skin flushed, warmth rushing to her cheeks and spreading through her chest. She frowned, startled by the sudden heat curling in her stomach. What was this feeling?
She tried to take a step back.
"Don't." he whispered again, his voice barely audible, his gaze locked on hers.
Though she didn't understand his words, his tone and touch were enough to freeze her in place. His hold was firm—not harsh, but grounding. She dared not meet his eyes, lowering her gaze, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.
This feeling… it wasn't the same warmth she had known when her grandmother embraced her.
Was something wrong with her? Was she sick?
She clutched her chest softly, puzzled by the unfamiliar thrum of emotion coursing through her.
Rayan, however, was unaware of her inner turmoil. His senses, honed by years of martial discipline, were focused elsewhere.
He had heard something—a faint rustle not made by the wind or a passing animal.
Danger.
His sharp gaze turned toward the bushes just beyond their hiding place. Cold calculation returned to his expression.
Then he looked down at the girl in his arms.
For a fleeting moment, worry clouded his eyes. But he knew what he had to do.
"Stay here," he whispered and pointed firmly to the ground.
When she only blinked in confusion, he gestured again, more deliberately.
"Here. Don't move."
Aria stared, trying to make sense of his words. But she saw the seriousness in his eyes and nodded.
Satisfied, Rayan released her and moved silently into the open. He glanced back once—she was still standing where he left her.
Relieved, he turned to the bush, his demeanor now deadly calm. He reached into his sleeve and drew a dagger, eyes narrowing as he approached.
The bushes trembled—and then a figure lunged out.
Aria gasped, frozen behind the tree. Her heart leapt into her throat.
But before the intruder could make a move, Rayan struck like lightning. In a blink, he had the man pinned, dagger at his throat, the other's limbs locked beneath him.
"Oomph—!"
The figure grunted, his face covered in cloth, struggling weakly.
But the moment his eyes met Rayan's, all movement ceased.
"My Lord!" the man choked out, shock in his voice.
Rayan narrowed his eyes, recognizing the voice. "Tristan."
"My Lord!" the man repeated, this time with relief.
Rayan slowly loosened his grip, stepping back as he sheathed his dagger.
Tristan sat up, removing the cloth mask from his face. His expression was lit with joy.
"I finally found you!"
Rayan's face remained serious. "What about the others?"
"Alive," Tristan replied.
"Linus was wounded during the escape, but he'll recover. My Lord, you shouldn't have done that—you put yourself in danger to lead the enemy away. We've been searching for you for two days—"
Tristan's voice ran on, fueled by worry. Rayan didn't stop him, though his brow furrowed at the mention of Linus's injury.
But then he felt it—a small tug on his sleeve.
He turned.
Aria stood behind him, hand still clinging to his sleeve. Her eyes were fixed on Tristan, wide and uncertain.
Rayan's entire demeanor softened in an instant.
Was she scared?
She had no reason to be, not while he was here.
Before he could say anything, Tristan stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
"My Lord... who is this woman?" he asked cautiously.
His tone was guarded. In times like these, anyone unfamiliar—especially someone from the outside—was a potential threat.
Aria shrank back as Tristan approached, fear in her eyes as she spotted the sword at his side. His sharp gaze unnerved her. She released Rayan's sleeve and stepped back instinctively.
"Tristan!" Rayan barked, his tone sharp. "Step away from her."
Tristan halted immediately.
"She saved my life," Rayan continued, stepping in front of Aria and shielding her with his body.
"You're scaring her."
Tristan's eyes widened, and he lowered his gaze at once.
"My deepest apologies to the lady."
"She doesn't understand our language," Rayan said.
Tristan looked startled.
"I should've spoken in the Ulrik tongue."
But Rayan shook his head. "She doesn't speak that either."
Tristan blinked in confusion. "Then what does she speak?"
"I don't know."
Behind Rayan, Aria stood quietly, her heart aching.
They understood each other. They spoke in words she couldn't follow, voices that sounded strange but familiar to one another.
She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back tears.
Would he leave with this man now? Would he go back to his people and leave her behind?
Alone again?
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