POV: Aphrodite
I won't let fear decide for me.
After the others give us space, Lucen and I find ourselves truly alone for the first time since the kiss. The morning sun filters through the trees, painting everything in gold—dappled light dancing across the moss-carpeted forest floor. Around us, the forest breathes with normal sounds, pretending yesterday's violence never happened. Birds call to each other in the canopy above, their songs bright and oblivious.
The bond between us hums, no longer painful or pulling. Just present. Alive. Waiting to see what we'll do with it. It feels like warmth spreading through my chest, a golden thread connecting heart to heart.
Lucen hasn't let go of me since the kiss. One hand still cups my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone in small, repetitive circles. Like he's memorizing the texture of my skin, the shape of my face. His palm is warm, calloused from years of training. I can smell him—pine and smoke, leather and something distinctly wolf.
