The lingering scent of wolf and warmth clung to the air as Aylin stirred, her body still humming from the previous night. Her eyes opened to find herself alone in the vast bed, the other side cold in stark contrast to the heat that had burned between them just hours before.
Sasha was gone.
For a moment, she lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to process the weight of what had happened. The night had been raw, primal, inevitable. Instinct had brought them together, but what did it all mean? Her throat tightened as doubt crept into her thoughts. Had it been nothing more than instinct for him? A fleeting claim he would cast aside now that the sun had risen?
She pushed the sheets aside and sat up, the soreness in her limbs a reminder of the intensity they had shared and the fight before. The room was silent except for the faint rustle of the wind outside. Aylin ran a hand through her tangled hair before slipping off the bed. She needed to wash her face and clear her mind before allowing herself to spiral.
Padding to the adjoining chamber, she found a spacious bathing room, the air carrying the faint scent of lavender and mint. A polished stone basin sat atop a wooden stand, with fresh water ready. Aylin approached, reaching for the cool liquid to splash her face, when she noticed movement behind her. A presence.
Her body tensed; she did not have a weapon with her, but she could run outside for help, her fingers clenched on the marble basin, her mind racing with escape plans.
"A good afternoon, my Lady," a voice spoke, calm yet laced with curiosity.
Aylin straightened and turned to see an older woman standing near the doorway. She was strong, her gray-streaked hair pulled back into a tight bun, her expression neutral but sharp from experience. Her green eyes were watching her cautiously, waiting for her to calm down.
I'm Olga," the woman continued, stepping forward. "His Lordship assigned me to take care of you."
Aylin blinked. His Lordship. Sasha. So, he had left her in someone's care— not abandoned, but not by her side either. She wasn't sure what to make of it.
Olga's gaze flickered to the freshly changed sheets on the bed, but if she had an opinion, she kept it to herself. Aylin didn't catch the meaning of maid's gaze.
Olga, pushed the fact aside and offered a slight smile. "Would you like to freshen up? I've set aside a few dresses for you. We didn't have time to get anything better, but it should do for now."
Aylin blinked, surprised by the gesture. She wasn't expecting kindness. She was well-treated in Silas' castle, but only because of what she represented—an arrangement, a claim. Her maid, Lilliana, was the only person who had ever truly assisted her. The others had simply followed orders, never providing more than was necessary.
She hesitated before nodding. "Thank you, Olga. That's... thoughtful."
Olga's expression softened slightly, as if she appreciated Aylin's response. "Come, then. Let us get you ready first, and then I will show you around the fortress. It may help you settle in while Lord Sasha finishes his business."
'Oh, so he left because of his work. I wonder how he got so hurt the other day.'
"How is the lord?" Aylin did not want to disrespect the people or their lord by mentioning his name.
Olga paused for a moment, considering Aylin's question. "The Lord is well," she finally answered, leading Aylin toward the wooden wardrobe where a selection of dresses hung. "Though he keeps himself busy. It is unusual for him to stay in one place for too long.
Aylin nodded and moved forward to inspect the garments. They were simple but well-made, with none of the extravagant silks or embroidered fabrics she had come to expect at Silas' castle. These were intended for movement, not just display. She hesitated before selecting a deep green dress, which reminded her of the forests beyond the fortress.
Olga kept busy tidying the room as she changed, her sharp gaze occasionally flickering to Aylin. Her eyes were not filled with judgment, but rather with curiosity or a quiet assessment.
Once dressed, Aylin followed Olga out of the chamber, the fortress hallways stretching out before them. The stone walls were adorned with furs, weapons, and relics of past battles, each telling a story of survival and war. This was not a place designed for comfort or grandeur; it was a stronghold.
"I imagine it is different from where you lived before," Olga remarked as they walked.
Aylin let out a quiet breath. "Yes. Silas' castle was... more polished."
"Polished, but cold," Olga mused, nodding knowingly. "Here, things are simpler. We fight, we endure, and we take care of our own."
Aylin absorbed the words. Sasha had created this place from nothing by gathering men who had nowhere else to go. She could understand why they followed him. Even though she had only been here for a short time, there was a strange sense of belonging in the air, which she had never felt in Silas' lands.
Olga led her to the main dining hall, where a few men sat for their midday meal. Aylin noticed several pairs of eyes looking at her, some openly curious, others cautious. She straightened her posture, meeting their gazes head-on.
"Sit," Olga instructed, motioning to an empty seat at the long table. "You need to eat."
Aylin hesitated, but the rumbling in her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten in a day and a half. The stress and danger had made her forget her hunger, her body running on sheer will. As she took a seat and accepted the bowl of stew Olga had placed in front of her, the rich scent of meat and herbs filled her senses, and she felt grateful for the warmth, realizing how empty she felt.
As she lifted the spoon, she sensed another presence entering the hall. A hush fell over the men, and their backs straightened. Aylin looked up just as Sasha walked inside.
His black eyes immediately locked onto hers.
For a moment, she forgot how to breathe; she wasn't ready to confront him and what was now between them.
Sasha was dressed in dark leather and furs, his presence commanding even in a room full of warriors. His long black hair was half-tied back, revealing the sharp lines of his face. There was a bruise on his jaw, a reminder of the battle he had fought just days before.
Without breaking eye contact, he walked slowly and deliberately towards the table. The air in the room grew tense. He came to a halt next to her, glancing briefly at Olga before focusing on Aylin.
"You are awake," he murmured.
Aylin set down her spoon. "I am."
Sasha's gaze passed over her, his expression unreadable. Then, after a moment, he turned to the men at the table. "Leave us."
There was no hesitation. The warriors rose quickly, carrying their meals with them as they disappeared from the hall. Even Olga gave a small nod before walking away, leaving Aylin alone with Sasha.
He remained standing, his hand resting on the table's edge. "You did not come to find me."
Aylin frowned, surprised by his words. "I thought you were busy."
"I was," he admitted, his voice lower now. "But I would have made time."
Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure what to say to that. He had left her with care, ensuring she was not alone, but she still didn't know where they stood. Silas never wanted to see her when working; she didn't reach for him from the instinct she formed in the Silverclaw Castle.
She folded her hands in her lap, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "What does this mean, Sasha?"
For the first time since entering the hall, his mask of control wavered. His dark eyes flickered with something raw.
He reached out, his fingers brushing against her own. "It means you are mine."
Aylin sucked in a breath, her pulse quickening at the weight of his words.
"I will not let you go," he continued, his voice rough with certainty. "Not now. Not ever. You will always be free to contact me at any time."
Her fingers tightened around his.
And for the first time, she allowed herself to believe she might no longer be alone.