The moon was high when River and Heiko finally returned to their chambers. The corridors of the castle were silent, cloaked in silver light and the faint echo of their footsteps. Something electric still lingered between them — the remnants of the moment they had stolen in the gardens, the pull that refused to fade even after hours.
As soon as the doors closed, the world outside ceased to exist.
Heiko’s eyes met hers — dark, burning, filled with a devotion that could tear kingdoms apart. River didn’t speak; she didn’t need to. Their breath mingled as he cupped her face, his touch reverent and certain, as if he were touching something sacred. The fire between them reignited, slow and consuming, built from all the longing and restraint they had endured.
Time blurred.
The night turned in
