Nyara's soft breasts pressed hard against him.
Kent stiffened for a moment—then relaxed, his arms slowly folding around her. The warmth of her body, the uneven rhythm of her breath, the tears soaking into his robe… it was real.
Kent looked down at her. Her face tilted up, eyes brimming with unshed tears, cheeks flushed from the rush of emotions.
He had seen her calm, proud, and distant. But never like this. Never this vulnerable.
His heart stirred.
"Why are you crying into my chest?" Kent asked, brushing away a loose strand from her face
Nyara bit her lower lip, trying to keep her tears at bay.
"I… I sent you into this trial. I knew you might die," she confessed, her voice breaking. "And still… I pushed you into it for my own selfish reasons. For the pride of my bloodline. For the glory of the Naga Clan. I didn't think you'd survive. And yet… here you are."
She took a shaky breath, her hands tightening slightly on his robe.
