008.

Zelest’s POV. 

I should’ve noticed it sooner. 

The twitch in Liam’s jaw. The way his body stiffened beside mine as we hobbled back toward the camp. At first, I thought it was just his usual need to control every situation, even the ones that didn’t need controlling. 

But there was something else. Something feral.

He kept sniffing the air.

I rolled my eyes and hissed under my breath, “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?” he asked, voice tight.

“The sniffer routine,” I grumbled. “You act like the wind's whispering war threats.”

He halted, forcing me to stop too, his arm still around me for balance. His eyes narrowed at me. “You didn’t smell that?”

“I smell wet leaves, earth, and the unmistakable scent of you being tense for no damn reason.”

Liam’s expression didn’t shift. Just his nostrils flared slightly. His hand on my waist was firm, grounding—too grounding. “There’s blood, Hawthorne.”

I groaned. “There’s always blood in the woods. Foxes, deer, panthers, I don’t know. But why is it always the end of the world with you?”

His eyes burned into mine like I’d just said the dumbest thing imaginable. “Because I don’t enjoy being ambushed or caught off guard.”

“Do you ever stop being a perfect soldier?” I snapped. “Do you even know how to exist without preparing for war?”

“I don’t have the luxury of switching off, Zelest.” His tone was sharp. “You may not care what happens to you, but some of us do.”

The weight of his words dropped between us.

My heart hammered in my chest. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He stepped closer, his eyes flashing with something I couldn’t place my finger on. “It means you pretend like you’re not affected. Like this doesn’t affect you. But you feel it too. Don’t you?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

My throat was dry. His chest was inches from mine now, the heat between us thick it could be cut with a butter knife. I hated that I could hear his heartbeat, feel it syncing up with mine. The bond crackled like static in my veins.

“You’re overthinking everything,” I whispered.

His eyes searched mine, slowly dropping to my lips, then back up. “And you’re not thinking at all.”

We stood there, the tension in the air like lightning before the strike, or the calm brewing before the storm. Neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed. It was intoxicating. 

Liam’s forehead brushed mine. I should’ve pulled away. Instead, I leaned in.

His lips parted slightly as he stared at me with eyes the shade of chestnut and warm honey, threatening to drown me in them. 

Suddenly, nothing mattered again. The whole world seemed to fade into a haze as I felt nothing but Liam Moonfang, his chest against mine, the faint scent of vanilla that announced his very being. 

I wanted this. I wanted him. 

He inched closer, nose brushing each other as I felt his warm breath on my face. Anticipation built in me as I welcomed the strange sensation in my chest.

And that was when the rustling started. Followed by snapping twigs. 

Both of us stilled, instincts taking over.

Whatever had been about to happen between us—whatever tension had coiled itself so tight it was about to break—shattered instantly as we turned toward the sound, hearts thundering against our chests.

Something—or someone—was watching. Then, a howl came from the camp. 

“We should check that out,” Liam rasped as he cleared his throat. I gave a low hum in response. 

His arm snaked around my waist again and I felt him so close but it wasn’t the same. This felt, distant, despite how firm his grip was on my waist. 

Neither of us saying anything, we got to the campground and Liam helped me into the tent, all the while avoiding my gaze. 

Liam left in a hurry to see the camp leader—Ben, Brent? I don’t know—just near the tent. I found myself chuckling at how he acted so distant, yet unwilling to stay too far away from me. 

I felt my wolf stir but my knee stung, reminding me of the little wound Liam had tended to clumsily. It was slowly healing. 

My fingers subconsciously trailed down to my knee, reminiscing how warm his breath felt against my skin as he blew on it. And the little herb he placed on my wound… maybe he wasn’t so rigid after all. 

A smile tugged at my lips as I recalled what’s transpired between us—the crackling tension between us, the feel of him, his heat and my heat, his intoxicating scent… 

A calm voice jolted me out of my thoughts. “You’re the injured one, boy? Let me see your knee.”

She must be the healer, judging from her warm appearance and the box that seemed to look like her herbal collection. She moved closer, examining my knee carefully as she glanced at me. 

“It’s almost healed up, luckily. Although I’d urge you to rest a little so it doesn’t widen,” she said with a warm smile. After administering some elixirs to help me heal faster, she got on her way. 

“And look after yourself,” she added with a stern smile. “You don’t want to get your boyfriend all worked up over some cut.”

I could’ve sworn I saw mischief in her eyes. Before I could debunk her claims, she’d left the tent. 

I couldn’t control the twitching my lips as my lips curled into a smile. Boyfriend? Why did I like the sound of that?

I wonder how Liam’s doing right now. I made a mental image of him, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as his skin glistened with sweat under the sun. And how his pants clung to his calves didn’t miss my eyes after leaving the creek with me. 

The thought of him being casually sweet made something throb in my briefs. What in the goddess’s name was Liam Moonfang doing to me?

Shortly after battling with drowsiness, I realized that the healer had given me contained sedatives and I soon found myself giving in to the darkness behind my eyelids. 

I woke up a few hours later and realized it’s dusk already. Just how long have I been asleep? 

“You’re awake. How do you feel?” 

Liam made his way into the tent with silverware, eyes widened with concern. 

“Better, I suppose,” I responded and sat up, the whiff of cooked meat and vegetables wafting in the air. 

Liam set the stick between us aside, sitting few inches away from me as he set the food and silverware down. The sight of it caused my stomach to rumble and I felt myself turn crimson. He didn’t chuckle— I expected him to find that funny, at the very least. 

He picked a piece of meat and blew on it, then brought it to my mouth. I raised an eyebrow at his action, but he didn’t back down. 

“Open up,” he said with his stoic expression. “If we’re working on this course together, I need you in good health.”

“You’re seriously going to feed me, Moonfang?” I couldn’t help but scoff. 

He nodded in response. Realizing he wouldn’t back down, I reluctantly opened my mouth as he fed me a piece of seasoned meat that tasted perfect. 

We ate— or he fed me— in silence until a mischievous idea struck my mind. Without thinking twice, I closed my lips around his fingers, the taste of cinnamon and spice lingering on them. 

The little action had his eyes widened, his stoic mask cracking for a split second and I loved it. Satisfied, I withdrew and licked my lips and prepared to sleep. 

“Thank you for the food,” I said, earning a hum of acknowledgement as he cleared the plates.

A few minutes later, Liam returned to the room. After sensing him behind me, I slept on my side, turning around to face him. 

He looked… peaceful with his eyes closed. Boyish, even. With his eyes opened, he seemed more like a soldier— a suit as his armor. He was vigilant always, with an edge of nerve. But with his eyes closed and creased brows, he seemed like a boy with little to no interest in worldly affairs.

“You asleep, Moonfang?”

“No, Hawthorne. You?”

“Not a chance. I technically slept the whole day, courtesy of the healer.”

A throaty rumble escaped Liam’s chest went straight to my thigh as it began to throb slightly against the fabric that restricted it. 

“You know,” I began, a smirk forming on my lips. “The healer called you my boyfriend earlier. I think I’m starting to like the sound of it.”

Liam’s eyes flung open instantly, lips parting as blood rushed to his face. Watching him turn crimson was quite a sight. 

“Really?” He asked, his voice lower than I expected. I nodded in response, a smirk still on my lips. 

Finally realizing I was flirting with him, his brows creased into a frown and he closed his eyes. 

“Sleep, Hawthorne.” With a swift move, he caught my wrist that was about to cross the stick between us. “And stay on your side, else…”

Delighted by his response to being teased, I grinned. 

This should be fun.