The sun hung high in the sky, casting dappled light through the thick canopy of the Whispering Woods. Tom and Lilith had been walking for hours since crossing the bridge, the memory of the strange search lingering in the air between them like an unspoken shadow. Lilith's steps were lighter now, her emerald eyes scanning the path ahead with a mix of excitement and caution, while Tom walked beside her, his mind replaying the thrill of what he'd orchestrated—and glimpsed—back at the bridge. Their daggers, simple but sharp blades gifted by Lilith's father as a parting token, hung at their belts, reminders of the dangers they sought.
The woods were alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant bird calls, but a sudden, sharp cry pierced the tranquility—a man's voice shouting in terror, followed by savage growls. Tom and Lilith exchanged a glance, their hearts racing. "Someone's in trouble," Tom said, drawing his dagger. Lilith nodded, pulling hers out as well, though her hand trembled slightly. They had no real fighting experience, only stories from village hunters and their own imaginings of slaying monsters. But they couldn't just walk by.
Off the path, in a small clearing bathed in sunlight, they found the source: a middle-aged man in tattered robes, his cart overturned, surrounded by a pack of snarling wolves. He swung a staff wildly, trying to keep them at bay, but one had already lunged, tearing at his leg. "Help!" he cried, spotting the young couple.
Without thinking, Tom charged forward, shouting to distract the beasts. "Get away from him!" Lilith followed, her innocence warring with the adrenaline surging through her. The wolves turned, their yellow eyes fixing on the new threats. One leaped at Tom, its jaws snapping, and he slashed wildly with his dagger, catching its flank. The beast yelped, but another clamped onto his arm, drawing blood. Lilith screamed as a wolf pounced on her, its claws ripping through her cotton dress, tearing the fabric across her chest. Her perfect, full breasts spilled out, exposed to the open air, but in the heat of the fight, she didn't notice—adrenaline dulled everything but survival.
She stabbed at the wolf, her blade sinking into its side, and it retreated with a whine. Together, they fought back, Tom taking a gash to his thigh, Lilith's dress further shredded as she twisted and struck. The stranger joined in, swinging his staff to crack a skull. They managed to kill one wolf, its body thudding to the ground, and the pack scattered into the underbrush, vanishing into the shadows.
Panting, Lilith straightened, her chest heaving. Only then did she feel the breeze on her skin, glancing down to see her breasts fully exposed, her porcelain skin flushed from the exertion. Her cheeks burned crimson, tears welling in her emerald eyes as shame flooded her. "Tom... I'm so sorry," she whispered, crossing her arms over herself, her voice breaking. "I didn't realize... the wolves..."
Tom, wiping blood from his arm, chuckled softly, though his eyes lingered for a moment on her exposed form before he averted them. "You're stupid if you think that's something to apologize for," he said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood as he pulled a blanket from his pack and draped it over her shoulders. "You didn't have a choice if you wanted to stay alive. We both fought like hell."
Lilith nodded, clutching the blanket tightly, her embarrassment deepening but grateful for his understanding. They turned to the stranger, who was limping toward his cart, his leg bleeding but his eyes wide with gratitude—and something else, a shy flush on his cheeks as he averted his gaze from Lilith's covered form.
"You saved my life," the man said, his voice shaky. "I'm Elias, an herbalist. I was gathering rare roots when those beasts attacked. Let me tend to your wounds—it's the least I can do."
Tom and Lilith introduced themselves, explaining their quest for adventure. Elias nodded, his shy demeanor evident as he avoided looking directly at Lilith. He rummaged in his cart for salves and bandages, applying them to Tom's arm and thigh with skilled hands. For Lilith's scratches on her arms and legs, he worked quickly, his fingers trembling slightly, a noticeable bulge in his trousers from the moment he'd caught the full view of her exposed breasts during the fight. He tried to hide it, but the sight had stirred him deeply.
As Elias finished, Tom glanced at Lilith, concern in his eyes—but mixed with that familiar dark thrill. "We should check if you're injured anywhere else, love. Some cuts might be hidden under what's left of your dress."
Elias, overhearing, cleared his throat shyly. "I have a tent set up nearby—been camping here to harvest herbs. You can use it for privacy. It's just over there."
Tom agreed, helping Lilith to the tent, a simple canvas structure in a sunlit spot. Inside, the light filtered through the fabric, casting a warm glow. "Turn around and strip, love," Tom said gently, but intentionally leaving the tent flap slightly ajar—enough for a peek from outside, though Lilith, facing away, didn't notice. "I need to make sure you're okay."
Lilith complied, her back to him, dropping the blanket and the torn dress, her flawless body revealed in the daylight. Tom took his time, his hands gently tracing her skin for injuries, prolonging the moment as he "checked" her curves, his touch lingering more than necessary. Outside, Elias, unable to resist, crept closer, his boner straining painfully as he peeked through the gap. The sight of Lilith's naked form—her soft curves, porcelain skin, and the way she stood vulnerable—nearly overwhelmed him, his breath quickening as he felt like he might burst at any moment.
Tom, aware of the open flap but pretending not to notice, continued his slow examination, his own pulse racing with the forbidden thrill of sharing her unknowingly. Finally, he pronounced her fine, handing her a spare shirt from his pack. Lilith dressed quickly, but as she turned, she caught a glimpse of movement at the tent entrance—Elias slipping away. Her cheeks flushed anew, but she said nothing, not wanting to cause a ruckus or embarrass anyone further.
Tom noticed her expression. "What's wrong, love?"
"Nothing," she murmured, making up an excuse. "Just... still shaken from the fight."
They emerged from the tent, and Elias, his face red but composed, suggested they stay for the night. "Your injuries need rest. We can head to Riverton together in the morning—safety in numbers."
Tom and Lilith agreed, the herbalist's knowledge of the woods a welcome addition. As the sun dipped lower, Tom's mind already turned to the possibilities ahead, the day's events fueling his secret desires even as guilt gnawed at him. The road to Riverton promised more than monsters—it held shadows of its own.