The next morning I woke to the gentle warmth of Illara pressed against my back, her hand resting lightly against my chest, fingers tracing idle patterns as though she were still half dreaming.

  “Good morning,” I murmured, smiling into the pillow.

  She froze slightly. “Oh. Did I wake you?”

  “It’s all right,” I said, turning my head enough to catch a glimpse of her. “It’s a rather pleasant way to wake up.”

  Illara’s hand drifted lower, slow and unhurried, tracing warmth across my skin as though she were learning me by memory. When she rolled me onto my back, there was no force in it—only intent. Her eyes held mine, dark and steady, asking without words.

  She kissed me again, deeper this time. Not hurried. Not desperate. Just certain.

  Her touch followed the kiss, exploring with growing confidence. Each careful movement sent a spark through me, unfamiliar and startling in its clarity. I had braced for awkwardness, for uncertainty, but instead there was only heat—building slowly, steadily, until it became impossible to ignore.

  I felt myself respond instinctively, hips lifting toward her without conscious thought. A soft sound escaped me before I could stop it. She swallowed it with another kiss, as though she wanted every reaction, every breath.

  “I want to try something,” she murmured near my ear.

  There was vulnerability in her voice, despite the boldness of the words.

  She shifted, guiding me gently, and when our bodies aligned more closely the sensation changed. It was no longer just touch. It was closeness in a way I had never experienced—heat meeting heat, skin sliding against skin, rhythm forming naturally between us.

  The first real press of her against me sent a shock through my entire body. It was overwhelming in the quietest way. Not sharp. Not frantic. Just deep and consuming.

  I gasped and held onto her, grounding myself in the solidness of her thigh, the warmth of her skin. She moved slowly at first, testing, learning. Each small motion drew another wave of sensation from somewhere low and coiled inside me.

  Her breathing grew uneven. Mine followed.

  There was something profoundly intimate about it—not just the friction of skin, but the way we were discovering each other in real time. No script. No expectations. Just trust.

  The pleasure built gradually, not in a sudden blaze but in rolling swells that layered one atop another. I felt it tightening, gathering, until my body could no longer contain it. When release came, it was not explosive so much as shattering—my muscles tensing, breath breaking, the world narrowing to nothing but sensation and her name on my lips.

  She stayed with me through it, steady and present.

  And then I felt her falter—her rhythm stutter, her grip tighten. She pressed closer, breath catching sharply as her own pleasure overtook her. I held her as she trembled, feeling the echo of it through our joined bodies.

  Afterward, she eased back only enough to look at me.

  There was wonder in her expression. Relief. A quiet pride.

  She settled against me again, weight warm and reassuring. Her fingers traced slow, absent circles across my skin as our breathing steadied.

  “Thank you,” Illara said softly. “I enjoyed that.”

  “I enjoyed it too,” I replied, smiling.

  We lay there for a long while, warm bodies pressed together beneath the blankets. Illara traced absent-minded patterns along my side and shoulder, as though committing the shape of me to memory. Time slipped past unnoticed until a knock sounded at the bedroom door.

  “Hey. You two need to get up,” Sera called through the wood. “We’re leaving for Holver today.”

  I sighed quietly and eased myself from Illara’s embrace, the sudden cool air against my skin making me shiver as I reached for my clothes. Illara propped herself up on one elbow, watching me dress with an unashamed smile.

  “You realise you have to get up as well,” I said.

  “I know,” she replied lightly. “I just wanted to maximise my viewing time.”

  I rolled my eyes, though I could not stop smiling.

  She rose then, wrapping her arms around me before I had fully finished dressing, pressing one more kiss to my lips. When she finally stepped back, she began pulling on her travelling clothes with far less ceremony.

  Once we were both ready, we headed downstairs.

  “Good morning,” Sera said brightly. “Sleep well?”

  “Very well,” I answered, reaching for a bowl.

  Sera winked at Illara. Illara tried to look composed and failed, the corners of her mouth betraying her.

  We ate quickly, then began packing supplies. We would need to hunt once we were settled, but it was wise to bring what provisions we could carry.

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  While we were tying up bags and checking straps, Jenna and Cain arrived.

  “Good morning, everyone,” Cain greeted as he stepped inside.

  Jenna’s eyes went straight to Illara. She studied her for a long moment.

  “You look very pleased with yourself,” she said. “Something good happen?”

  Illara did not hesitate. “Drisnil agreed to be my girlfriend.”

  She lifted her hand slightly, the black opal catching the morning light.

  Jenna’s expression tightened.

  “I can’t stop you from caring about someone,” she said carefully. “But I need you to know I think this is a mistake. Drisnil cannot be trusted.”

  The room went quiet. Even Faie looked up.

  I felt guilt, my previous actions caused trouble for Illara, something I never wanted to do.

  Illara stiffened beside me, but did not drop my hand.

  Cain stepped forward gently. “Let’s not start the morning like this,” he said, resting a hand on Jenna’s shoulder. “First love rarely listens to warnings, and she is still young.”

  Jenna exhaled sharply but said nothing further.

  “So,” Cain continued, turning to the rest of us, “are we ready to leave?”

  “Almost,” Theo said dryly. “Some of us slept in.”

  Cain’s smile carried more understanding than mockery. “No problem.”

  We finished securing our packs and stepped out of the tower together: Theo, Sera, Faie, Ash, Illara, and me.

  The morning was cool but bright. Our coats felt heavier than necessary under the growing sun. As we left Ravencrest behind, I felt a strange pull in my chest.

  It had been a place of danger. Of grief. Of change.

  And of beginnings.

  We climbed into the cart for the journey to Holver. I was grateful not to be walking, even if the wooden bench offered little comfort.

  The cart rolled steadily along the road, the rhythmic clatter of wheels setting an easy pace for conversation. Somehow, the topic had turned to cheese.

  “I still maintain that camembert is superior,” I began. “The creaminess alone puts it above most others.”

  Illara snorted softly. “Camembert is barely awake. If you want real flavour, you need a proper blue cheese. The stronger, the better.”

  Sera shook her head. “You’re both overthinking it. Nothing beats a good hard cheese. A solid cheddar. No pretence, no drama. Just proper cheese.”

  I scoffed. “Cheddar is safe. That’s the problem. And blue cheese is far too pungent. It assaults the senses.”

  Illara clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Perhaps your palates are simply underdeveloped. Blue cheese requires maturity to appreciate.”

  Sera raised a brow. “The only one here who lacked maturity until last night was you.”

  Illara flushed instantly. “We waited until we were ready,” she shot back. “Unlike certain people who seem incapable of restraint.”

  The direction of the conversation was becoming dangerously predictable.

  “Now, now,” I interjected. “Virginity has nothing to do with maturity. And for the record, having lived over a century, I believe I’m the most qualified here to judge cheese.”

  Both Sera and Illara turned on me at once.

  “Then your memory must be fading,” Sera said firmly. “Otherwise you’d know cheddar reigns supreme.”

  “And you likely spent half that century hiding in a cave,” Illara added, slipping her arm around my shoulders. “Your experience hardly counts if you weren’t tasting properly aged blue.”

  “Brie,” Faie announced suddenly. “Brie is the superior choice. Balanced. Civilised. It pairs well with something salty and a decent cider.”

  “You can’t judge a cheese by what it’s served with,” Illara protested. “A good blue stands entirely on its own.”

  “Camembert with crackers and pear jelly,” I said thoughtfully, “and a glass of white wine. That is perfection.”

  “Some of us,” Sera said dryly, “do not have access to pear jelly and imported wine. A thick slice of cheddar with fresh bread and a jug of ale is more than sufficient.”

  I raised both hands in surrender. “Clearly this is a matter of taste we will never resolve.”

  There was a collective murmur of reluctant agreement.

  Faie leaned back against the cart wall, looking insufferably smug, as though she had somehow won despite no one conceding.

  The cart rolled on, the debate unfinished but thoroughly enjoyed.

  After several more hours of light conversation and gentle debate, we finally reached Holver. The village looked much as we had left it. In places like this, change arrived slowly, if at all. The same crooked fences, the same drifting woodsmoke, the same quiet rhythm of life continuing without urgency.

  Cain and Jenna parted from us to gather their children and collect additional supplies. The rest of us made our way to Theo’s house to collect dried meats, spare clothing, and anything else that might prove useful.

  The house was cold when we stepped inside, but the familiar scent of timber and old stone carried a strange comfort. It felt like returning somewhere that had once been safe.

  Theo and Ash left again briefly to gather the last of their belongings, while Sera went to explain matters to her mother.

  I sat at the table, letting the quiet settle. Illara appeared moments later and, without hesitation, settled into my lap.

  “I doubt we’ll get much alone time for the next two weeks,” she murmured.

  “I’m sure we can find excuses,” I said lightly. “Hunting trips. Gathering wood. Exploring. I’m certain we’ll manage.”

  Her expression brightened immediately, imagination clearly outrunning practicality.

  The door opened before she could elaborate further. Theo and Ash returned, arms laden with packs.

  “I think that’s everything,” Theo said, setting a heavy bag on the floor.

  Ash nodded in agreement.

  Theo’s gaze drifted to Illara still perched comfortably on my lap.

  “You know,” he said dryly, “we do own several chairs.”

  “I’m already sitting on the best one,” Illara replied without missing a beat.

  I laughed despite myself. It reminded me painfully of younger days, when being close to someone you loved felt like an achievement in itself.

  Soon after, Sera returned with Cain, Jenna, and the children. The house that had felt roomy moments before suddenly seemed very small.

  “I’d rather put distance between us and the village before nightfall,” Cain said. “If we’re ready, we should leave.”

  Theo gave a short nod. “We’re ready enough. I’ll follow your lead. Camping’s never been my speciality.”

  There was no further delay.

  We stepped back out into the cool afternoon and began walking toward the forest’s edge. Holver faded behind us, its roofs shrinking with each step.

  I followed the trail from memory. Twenty years had passed since I had last walked it, but some paths imprint themselves too deeply to forget.

  We were heading toward the old goblin camp.

  Toward where this strange life of mine had truly begun.

  The trees swallowed us one by one.

  And the road behind disappeared.