Ryker sat beside her, the silence between them palpable.
He noticed the subtle scent of roses wafting from her.
Intriguing.
No wolf he knew smelled like flowers.
"Who are you?" Ryker asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
No response.
Her silence sparked curiosity.
Ryker's gaze roamed her profile.
The curve of her neck.
The slope of her shoulders.
A faint glow from the moon revealed a wound on her shoulder.
Ryker's instincts kicked in.
He gently touched her shoulder.
"Let me help," he said.
She flinched.
But didn't pull away.
Ryker examined the wound.
A deep gash.
Probably from a claw.
He ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt.
Gently cleaned the wound.
Applied pressure.
She remained silent.
Ryker's curiosity grew.
He tried to peek at her face.
Veiled by hair.
Concealing her features.
As he tended to her wound.
Ryker's fingers brushed hers.
A spark.
Unexpected.
Their eyes met.
For an instant.
Ryker saw piercing green.
A flash of intensity.
Before she looked away.
Ryker tried to engage her in conversation, but she swiftly rose to her feet.
"Wait," Ryker said, reaching out.
She fled into the darkness.
Leaving Ryker perplexed.
Ryker tried to engage her in conversation the previous night, but she swiftly rose to her feet and vanished into the darkness.
The next day, Ryker found himself passing by the same spot, his thoughts lingering on the mysterious woman.
And there she was.
Sitting at the lake's edge.
Playing with a wildflower.
Her raven hair cascaded down her back, veiling her face.
Ryker approached quietly, not wanting to startle her.
As he drew near, she sensed his presence.
Looked up.
But her hair still shrouded her features.
Ryker's curiosity piqued.
"Thank you for your help yesterday," she said, her voice soft.
Ryker's eyes narrowed.
"I won't accept your thanks," he teased.
"Unless you tell me your name."
Talia's smile faltered.
For an instant.
Then she whispered.
"I'm Talia."
Ryker's heart skipped a beat.
"Talia," he repeated.
Savoring the sound.
Talia's gaze dropped.
To the flower in her hand.
Ryker sat beside her.
"Why were you hurt?" he asked.
Talia's shoulders shifted.
"A misunderstanding," she murmured.
Ryker sensed more to the story.
But didn't press.
Not yet.
"What brings you to this place?" Ryker asked.
Talia's gaze drifted.
To the lake.
"I find solace here," she said.
Ryker nodded.
Understanding.
They sat in comfortable silence.
Watching the sun's descent.
Ryker longed to glimpse her face.
To uncover the mystery.
But Talia's hair remained.
A veil between them.
Nights blended together, each one a repetition of the last, yet uniquely special. Ryker and Talia met at the same spot, their chosen sanctuary, where time stood still.
Their conversations flowed effortlessly, like a gentle stream meandering through the forest. Laughter echoed through the trees, mingling with the night sounds.
Connection grew, a living, breathing entity that wrapped itself around their hearts. Yet, Talia's face remained hidden, veiled by her raven hair, shrouded in the darkness.
Ryker didn't press, respecting her secrecy, sensing the fragility behind her hidden features. Their bond strengthened, trust deepening with each shared moment.
Talia shared stories of moonlit nights spent exploring the forest, of hidden streams, and secret glades. Ryker listened, enchanted, his imagination painting vivid pictures.
Their silences were comfortable, easy, like old friends who didn't need words. But Ryker's curiosity lingered, a gentle hum in the background.
Who was Talia? What hid behind her hidden face? What secrets did she conceal?
One night, Ryker brought a small gift – a wildflower, its petals shimmering in the moonlight. Talia's fingers brushed his as she accepted it.
A spark.
A fleeting glance.
Their eyes met.
Ryker's heart skipped a beat.
Talia's gaze dropped.
Her hair remained.
A veil between them.
What happens next?