Aylin's breath caught at Sasha's words. She looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. His expression was firm and steady, as was his grip on her lower back. The room was filled with quiet murmurs as the warriors exchanged glances, but none dared to question Sasha's claim.
Roland let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his temples. "You're impossible, you know that?" he muttered. "Fine, fine. Do what you want." His gaze shifted back to Aylin, something unreadable in his expression. "But be careful, Aylin. You may have escaped one cage, but don't rush into another.
Aylin refused to respond; she suspected Roland was correct, and she doubted her ability to tame her wolf a second time.
Sasha wasted no time. His arm tightened around her as he led her toward the door. The warriors stepped aside, their gazes lowering in respect. Even when wounded, Sasha commanded respect in a way that few could. His mere presence could silence an entire room.
The halls of the stronghold were quiet as they walked. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows on the stone walls, making the space feel even colder than it already was. Aylin's limbs felt heavier with each step; her body yearned for rest, but her mind refused to stop racing. She could still feel Roland's words clinging to her skin.
She turned to Sasha as they climbed a flight of stairs. She didn't know the fortress; every hallway, every corner were unfamiliar. "Can someone else show me where I can sleep?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended. "You don't need to—"
"I do," he interrupted.
She blinked up at him, taken aback by the certainty in his tone.
Sasha didn't glance at her, his expression set in stone. "You saved my life," he muttered. "Whether you want to admit it or not, you are mine to protect right now."
Aylin's stomach twisted at his words, and her wolf trembled with anticipation. 'Mine.' The word echoed in her mind—simultaneously dangerous and alluring. She wasn't sure if she wanted to embrace it or rip it apart.
They arrived at the end of the corridor and found a large wooden door. Sasha pushed it open, revealing a grand chamber that stood out against the fortress's rough exterior. The scent of cedar and worn leather greeted her, along with a faint trace of Sasha's own scent. The room was expansive, with intricately carved wooden beams supporting the ceiling, and thick fur rugs covering the stone floor. A luxurious bed, large enough for three men, sat against the far wall, draped in deep crimson and gold. A roaring fireplace provided warm light throughout the room, illuminating a seating area with plush chairs and a table adorned with fine crystal and aged wine. The wealth on display was subtle but undeniable; this was not a rogue's chamber but the domain of a ruler.
Sasha led her inside and closed the door behind them. The silence that followed was deafening. Aylin hesitated in the center of the room, suddenly realizing how alone they were.
"You can rest here," Sasha said, his voice softer now. He motioned to the bed before stepping toward the table, as if allowing her to make her own decision.
Aylin swallowed hard. "And where will you sleep?" she asked, though she wasn't sure why she cared.
Sasha smirked, his gaze flicking to her as he leaned against the table. "I don't need much sleep."
Her fingers curled at her sides. She didn't trust this. Didn't trust the pull she felt toward him, the warmth curling at the base of her spine despite everything. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not after all she would fought for.
But her body ached. Her mind was frayed at the edges. In this moment, Sasha's presence was the only thing keeping her grounded in reality.
She sat down on the bed with a quiet breath, ignoring Sasha's gaze that followed her every move. "We need a bath, or the sheets will be ruined." She looked down at herself, dried blood and grime clinging to her skin, a stark reminder of the battles fought before she arrived here. "Where do you bathe here?"
Sasha pushed away from the table and walked to a smaller door in the corner of the room. He opened it, revealing a lavish bathing chamber lined with polished marble. A massive stone tub sat in the center, large enough for more than one person and filled with steaming water infused with fragrant oils. Shelves lined the walls, filled with plush towels and a variety of scented soaps and salves. The opulence was undeniable—Sasha thrived in this fortress rather than simply surviving it. Steam lingered faintly in the air, suggesting that warm water had been brought here recently. Aylin arched a brow at him.
"Better than most places," Sasha muttered. "You should use it before you collapse."
It was luxurious; she didn't know what to say; not even Silas's chambers were so lavish.
She stood slowly, her body protesting every movement. "And you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Sasha smirked again, but there was an edge to it. "There is another bathroom down the hall." He paused, his smirk widening. "Would you rather I join you?"
Aylin scoffed, turning her back to him. "Not in your condition."
She stepped toward the washroom, but as she reached the doorway, Sasha's voice followed her, softer this time. "Aylin."
She paused, glancing back at him.
His expression had shifted—less teasing, more serious. "You're safe here."
She swallowed. The words shouldn't have meant anything, but they did. They settled in her chest, warm and uncertain. Without another word, she slipped inside the washroom, closing the door behind her, letting the warmth of the steam embrace her in place of the thoughts she wasn't ready to face.