The anticipation was unbearable. I could tell by Yurick's uneven breathing that something was shifting—until, at last, he let the axe fall from his hands and looked at me as if truly seeing me for the first time since those stormy days. He stepped closer, then dropped to his knees before me, wrapping his arms around my body, resting his head against my abdomen. I could feel him trembling. Was he crying? I never thought I'd see him this vulnerable.
I slowly knelt down too, until we were at eye level. I embraced him, pressing my forehead to his chest, listening to the erratic beat of his heart while his powerful arms enveloped me—tenderly, yet cautiously, as if afraid to hold me too tightly. He was still unsure. The silence wasn't yet comforting. But he deserved that moment, to digest everything, still struggling to believe Jamal might have been right about breaking the jewel that symbolized what we shared.
—Seyrim, I'm sorry. —The alpha finally pulled back, cupping my cheek. —It's like the fog over my eyes suddenly vanished, and I can see you again. I missed you so much... I hurt you more than I can bear. I don't deserve to be here. —His hand slid down to mine, gently taking hold of my bandaged wrist and covering it with soft, repeated kisses. The warmth of it flushed my face.
—You bastard... How could you make me wait so long? What a complicated love you gave me. —I exhaled, relief washing over me like a weight finally lifting off my shoulders. I leaned into him again, breathing in his warm, woody scent. His pheromones surrounded us, subtly pulling me closer.
—When I was wounded weeks ago, I thought I would die. And my only wish was to see you again... to tell you how deeply I love you. You changed everything—my feelings, my hopes for this war. —Yurick spoke with unguarded honesty, as if trying to help me understand. —But when I woke up, healed... the love I felt had vanished. As if it had never existed. I didn't think that was even possible. I treated you like something distant, like an echo, when that couldn't be further from the truth. Forgive me, my love.
—If it helps your guilt, I knew it wasn't you who left me with kisses and promises. But still... it hurt. I hope you find a way to make up for it. —I said gently. —I love you, Yurick Dandelion.
—I love you too, Seyrim of Damaceno. —He pressed his lips to mine—tender, desperate, aching. I felt his hands tighten around my waist, our bodies pressed close. The kiss deepened, breaths mingling, and for a moment the world fell away. I lost all sense of time and place, caught in the fervor of his longing.
His lips trailed down to my neck, warm and lingering. His mouth brushed my skin, his touch unrelenting. There was urgency in it—not just desire, but the need to reclaim what had been lost. It wasn't about dominance, not fully. It was about proof, about presence. A reassurance that what he felt was real.
—I don't want to do this here. —I murmured when I finally found the strength to speak again, my voice catching in a breath.
—You're right. —Yurick stood and lifted me into his arms. He didn't have to, but this time I didn't resist. I simply leaned into his chest, letting him carry me. I didn't want to think about the entity, about Jamal, or the war waiting for us beyond this fleeting peace.
I just needed him to feel me—to know I was truly here, that what we had wasn't some echo from a dream. He carried the weight of guilt, but what had happened was beyond him. The entity had twisted something inside him. And for now, I only wanted to hold onto this moment, to exist in it completely.
Some curious onlookers observed the scene, and even the guards seemed incredulous, though none dared to comment in the King's presence. At that moment, nothing else mattered—only the two of us. Apparently, Yurick felt the same, for as soon as we arrived, he pulled me to the bed without hesitation. He removed my clothes piece by piece, his gaze lingering on the piercings that marked my chest, already sensitive to the touch. He lowered his head and kissed them before I was even fully undressed.
My hand found his hair, fingers tightening as I felt him exploring, biting and sucking with a fervor that made me gasp. I couldn't contain the sounds escaping from my lips. My body burned with desire, overwhelming and all-consuming.
— I still can't believe I hurt you. — he murmured again, holding my wrist, pressing gentle kisses over the bandages. There was disbelief in his voice, as though the memory pained him deeply. — Seyrim... I'm sorry.
— Yurick. — I touched his face, brushing my fingers along the edge of his beard. I wasn't sure what to say. What happened had left scars, and couldn't be forgotten—but I knew he hadn't been entirely himself. — Just promise me... no more deals with strange entities. And now... please, don't make me wait, my king. My body needs you.
He didn't answer with words. He simply removed the rest of my clothing, leaving me exposed beneath him. I was already sensitive—his scent clouded my senses. It wasn't just about pleasure, but about something more primal, something desperate and unspoken between us. He spread my legs with care, and even though I felt a flush of shyness, I didn't look away.
His fingers found their path with surprising ease, and with steady rhythm, he touched the place that made my breath catch—pressing and teasing until I reached release, trembling. It didn't take long for my body to stir again, eager and breathless.
He pulled me into his lap, guiding me slowly down, until he was inside me. There was a stillness in the motion, as if both of us needed the weight of that closeness more than anything fast or frantic. I held his face, kissed him deeply, swaying my hips until his hands found my waist and he moved with greater force—still gentle, still patient, but certain.
My thoughts scattered. All I could feel was the warmth, the relief of connection, the rush of being wanted, being loved. I scratched his chest softly, our mouths and breaths mingling, until I felt him surrender, his body tightening as he released. I followed soon after, overcome by the tide of emotion.
We couldn't continue—not yet—but he didn't leave my side. He lifted me gently and took me to the bath, washing me with quiet reverence. It didn't take long before desire returned, this time more playful, teasing, as I found myself on hands and knees beneath the water. His movements were deliberate, the soft smacks of his hand against my skin leaving a heated blush that stirred something deep and welcome in me.
Later, we lay in bed, skin against skin, the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear.
— Did you really see Jamal? — Yurick asked, as if needing me to deny it.
— Yes. And as much as I dislike admitting it... your brother was right. As dark as his intentions may be, he was right about the entity and the jewel. I don't know what he wants exactly, but... he helped us. — I sat up, watching Yurick's expression. He was clearly conflicted.
— What did he ask in return? — he questioned, concern seeping into his voice.
— The albino's blood. I collected it yesterday. — I didn't know where this conversation would lead, but I didn't want to hide anything.
— Are you going to give it to him, Seyrim? — he asked, clearly uneasy.
— I made a promise. So yes, I intend to deliver it. Even if I wished otherwise, I can't go back on it. Your brother... put something in my mind, something I can't ignore. I plan to go tonight. — There was no use pretending. Keeping things from Yurick would only make it worse. It was dangerous to go alone anyway.
— I'll go with you. There's no rule against companions, so it shouldn't be an issue. Even if he helped us, Jamal is still who he's always been. He's not to be trusted. — Yurick didn't oppose my decision, but I could see the tension in his voice.
— I don't want to go alone again either. I've had enough of bearing all this by myself. — His arms were around me again before I finished the sentence, and he pressed a kiss to the crown of my head, breathing me in.
— It won't happen again. I intend to make changes—to ensure nothing like this can ever happen again. I don't know where the entity has gone, or what it truly wanted. I can't hear it anymore, and maybe... maybe that's for the best. — His voice held a quiet worry, despite the calm words. His fingers moved through my hair slowly, his thoughts clearly lingering elsewhere.
— Yurick. — I paused longer than I meant to. He waited patiently. — I was afraid. I want this child to grow up surrounded by our love. The thought of losing you... of being unable to give that love, or receive yours... it made me desperate. Desperate enough to seek someone who could've endangered us both.
— I don't blame you. You acted with hope, thinking you could fix things. I would've done the same—I'd go to the ends of the earth if it meant bringing you back. — Hearing that brought a comfort I hadn't expected. — And I am grateful for this child. I didn't think we'd have an heir so soon. — He reached for my belly, his palm resting there tenderly. — They'll be strong. And brilliant. And will grow up surrounded by love. Right?
— Yes. — I admitted softly, overwhelmed by the moment. I had my husband back. Our child would have a chance at happiness, a future filled with warmth and light. — But... we still have a war to face.
— We can talk about that tomorrow. I truly want to hear your words, but right now... I just want to breathe you in, hold your body close, and feel the joy of seeing your face again. — Yurick seemed genuinely grateful, especially as he pressed tender kisses across my face. I simply smiled. I hadn't imagined that feeling my emotions reciprocated would bring me such quiet, overwhelming joy. I closed my eyes and, for the first time in a long while, allowed myself to rest.
When I slowly opened them again, I could feel my husband's hand gently stroking my hair. We were still in each other's arms. I lifted my head slightly to give him a brief smile. It was nighttime. Though I wished to remain in bed, we still had matters to resolve that very day. I nestled closer into his embrace as the night chill deepened. I was grateful it wasn't a dream. For a while, I'd thought I might not succeed—that Yurick might never return to my arms. But here he was, giving me his warmth, his care.
— We need to deal with my brother. — His voice shattered my serene moment, pulling me back to reality.
— We'll eat first. — I sat up in bed and reached for the small bell beside me, ringing it to signal for food. I preferred we dine here in our chambers.
— Have you thought of a name for the child? — Yurick sat up as well, his large hands resting gently on my shoulder.
— Not yet. We don't even know the gender... maybe something neutral? — I asked, uncertain. The truth was, I hadn't had time to imagine anything beyond simply calling them my child.
— What about Eriendel? — he suggested thoughtfully.
— What does it mean? — His language still had words I didn't know, even after all this time.
— Winter gods. — He replied with a soft smile. It was a beautiful name. Whether it was a boy, girl, or both—Eriendel would suit them perfectly. I wrapped my arms around him, quietly grateful.
After we ate, Arien escorted us to the place where I was to meet Jamal. It was the same as in previous nights. The small procession caught some attention, but no one dared question us—not with the cavalry's imposing presence. Once we arrived, I dismounted and walked toward the temple, placing the vial of blood on the altar. I stepped back slowly. I didn't know if he would show up, but at least I had kept my word. Yurick remained nearby, watchful. He stood close, alert to any threat Jamal might pose. But nothing happened.
Until I climbed back onto my horse.
— Brother. It's been some time. — Jamal emerged, walking toward the vial. He examined it for a moment before tucking it away, seemingly satisfied with its authenticity.
— What do you intend to do with the blood, Jamal? — Yurick asked, strangely calm and composed, standing beside me with a protective hand on my waist.
— Enhance my powers, perhaps? Brew a venom? Conjure a spell rooted in nature? So many delightful possibilities, dear brother. But I must say, I'm glad to see your mind restored. It's always such a shame when you're not thinking straight—though, to be fair, that used to happen quite often. — He smiled slyly, his sarcasm biting, yet Yurick didn't flinch.
— I have no reason to insult you. As vile as you are, you helped my husband—and me. I won't deny that. — Even if Yurick would regret it later, he seemed resolute in letting his brother go. Jamal, for his part, showed no fear of the consequences. He stood on the other side, undisturbed.
— Oh, brother. I never thought there could be any sentiment left for me. Not after everything. — He finally turned away. — Until we meet again. — He glanced in my direction for a moment, a lingering look, before disappearing into the darkness, swallowed by the gentle snowfall that had begun to drift down.
I held on to Yurick more tightly as I stared into the distance. We didn't linger. The alpha said nothing on the way back. The silence wasn't uncomfortable—it was reflective. What was Jamal planning? Perhaps we'd find out eventually. Maybe his goals would align with ours... or perhaps he would become our enemy once more.
There was no certainty—but in that moment, I sensed that Jamal didn't hate his brother. There was rivalry, envy perhaps, but not hatred.
Just idle speculation.
Still, something more serious needed to be addressed.
— Yurick. — We were in the war room the next morning, waiting for the other council members to arrive. Of course, this conversation needed to happen. It was best we had it alone. — I know the plan is to attack during the winter, but I recommend we wait until spring. In that time, we can execute a strategy that allows us to lose Brizida without jeopardizing your reign in Neopolita.
Everything might seem under control now, but there will always be those who try to sway public opinion. Akasia has been our ally since I was born, and I believe we can use the coming months to launch a widespread campaign against my grandfather's kingdom. I've persuaded some already—but their loyalty wavers so long as there are Akasians living under our banner. Those are the ones we should focus on. They must believe we're under threat.
Many still think Akasia is trying to save Neopolita from the Roham people—that they only wish to restore our freedom. If we shift our focus to the outlying cities while the capital remains under control, we may be able to forge even stronger alliances.
I presented a few letters we'd received from cities under our control, though local uprisings still persisted.
— And food has become harder to manage. We've been sharing it with the native Rohians, which means giving up a portion of our own supplies. But in the spring, we can finally implement the irrigation system you've long envisioned—providing food for everyone without future deprivation.
Yurick said nothing at first, his eyes scanning the documents, silently weighing my words.
— And after our child is born. — I concluded just as the council members entered the hall. They bowed with the respect that had been rightfully earned. We began the meeting addressing the cities' internal issues and possible solutions—it was mostly structural. Yurick then announced that the castle's affairs would no longer rest solely on my shoulders. He intended to create a committee to oversee both the people's needs and the internal operations. That news brought visible relief—I had been growing overwhelmed.
— Now, we will speak of war. — Yurick stood. He wore formal attire that day—armor partially covering his body, with a sword strapped to his back and other weapons secured at his belt. He looked like an arsenal, and more than that, a seasoned warrior. It showed in his posture. — As many of you know, I've recently endured a difficult ordeal. I was bewitched. — Though the albino had vanished as if he had never existed, everyone remembered his presence—and his sudden absence was unsettling. Yurick explained briefly what had happened, avoiding unnecessary details.
— That being said, Seyrim is a brilliant war strategist. Though he has never had the opportunity to prove himself on the battlefield, had he been granted it, I believe we would not be here discussing an invasion of Akasia, but returning home in defeat and hunger. Yet, his counsel was ignored by the former monarch—and now Neopolita belongs to us. I trust Seyrim with my life. And I trust in the value of his strategy. Therefore, we will take the next three months to prepare, and we will strike in the spring—after the birth of my child and the proper consolidation of power in Neopolita.
The protest was immediate.
Some argued it was absurd to wait so long when the army was ready and we had enough gunpowder and equipment to act now.
— Silence. — Yurick commanded, releasing a wave of dominant pheromones that stilled the room. — I want to witness the birth of my child. Moreover, recent reports show Akasian influence reaching distant cities beyond the capital. It is imperative we increase our presence there—visiting, speaking, and revealing to our people how dangerous Akasia truly is. — He extended his hand toward me. I rose, understanding the silent call, and turned to face the hesitant council members.
— Roham's victory in war was only possible through the people's complete faith in their king. They needed Yurick to win, and they poured their strength into that hope. But here, things are different. I've lost ground these past months—even with strong support, I need to rebuild bonds with our people. More importantly, I must show them that Akasia is not a savior, but a threat to the crown long before the Rohians ever arrived. That requires strong internal policy. It could take years—but if we dedicate ourselves to joint efforts in the coming months, we can reclaim ground steadily. And besides, spring brings essential resources. We now know magic exists—and it may be used as a weapon. We must be prepared, and stronger than ever.
Despite their objections, it was clear I would gain nothing through needless argument.
— What's the plan? — Arien asked when he had the chance. I simply smiled at him, tightening my grip on Yurick's hand. For the first time in a long while, I felt truly heard—and confident.