"I need to go there," Andrzej said, his voice edged with determination.
The old man immediately reached for his arm, stopping him. "No," he warned. "The storm outside is relentless. You'll never make it through alive."
"There's nothing that can stop me," Andrzej replied without hesitation. His expression was unreadable, but the fire in his eyes burned through the dimly lit room.
He rose to his feet, and Aurora, without a second thought, stood beside him. The old man sighed, glancing between them, his face etched with concern. "At least wait until the storm settles," he pleaded.
But Andrzej was already walking away, his movements swift and resolute. Aurora turned to the old man, her gaze softer. "Thank you," she said before following Andrzej into the raging blizzard.
As soon as they stepped outside, the world around them turned into a furious white abyss. The wind howled, carrying sharp gusts of snow that clawed at their skin. The cold was merciless, biting through their clothes, seeping into their bones.
Aurora's breath came in ragged gasps, the icy wind making it difficult to inhale. The storm roared around them, swallowing every sound except the relentless whistling of the wind.
Yet, she didn't falter.
She kept moving, her steps steady, her gaze locked on Andrzej's back as he led the way. No matter how harsh the storm became, she would not turn back.
Aurora pushed forward, her vision blurring as the storm raged around them. The wind screamed, hurling snow and ice in every direction, turning the world into an endless white void. Her limbs grew heavy, the cold sinking into her bones. Her breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps, and her head swayed as dizziness took hold.
"Andrzej..." she whispered, but her voice was lost in the howling wind.
The ground beneath her tilted—or maybe it was her legs giving out. The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was Andrzej turning sharply, his golden eyes flashing with alarm.
_____________________
A deep warmth enveloped her, stark against the cold that had seeped into her body. Aurora's lashes fluttered, and she found herself wrapped in something thick and heavy—Andrzej's fur-lined cloak. She was no longer outside, but inside a dimly lit cave, the flickering light of a small fire casting shadows on the walls.
Her head rested against something firm, something warm. She realized she was lying against Andrzej's chest, his arm secured around her protectively. His scent—smoke, steel, and something distinctly him—was intoxicating in the confined space.
"You're awake," his deep voice rumbled above her, but there was an unusual softness to it.
Aurora tried to sit up, but the moment she moved, a strong hand pressed against her back, holding her in place. "Stay," he commanded, his voice rough yet careful. "You almost froze to death out there."
She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his. His eyes, always sharp and dangerous, now held something else—something unreadable. Concern? Frustration? Maybe both.
"You carried me," she murmured.
"You left me no choice," he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words. His fingers brushed against her cheek, as if making sure she was truly awake, truly here.
Aurora swallowed, her heart pounding, though not from fear. The closeness between them was suffocating yet electrifying. His warmth seeped into her, chasing away the last remnants of cold.
Aurora shifted slightly, suddenly aware of just how close she was to Andrzej. The heat of his body was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the bitter cold she had endured. Her breath hitched as she felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingertips.
"I… I should sit up," she murmured, trying to move away, but the moment she did, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against him.
"Don't," he said, his voice low and firm.
Her heart pounded violently. "Andrzej, I—"
"You're still cold," he interrupted, his grip tightening. "And you're shaking."
Aurora realized he was right—her fingers trembled, and despite the fire, a chill still clung to her. But she wasn't sure if it was the cold anymore… or something else entirely.
She swallowed hard. "I'll be fine."
His golden eyes burned into hers. "You almost died out there, Aurora. Don't act like it's nothing."
She tried to look away, but his fingers found her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. His touch was rough yet achingly gentle, sending a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the cold.
"You're always so damn stubborn," he murmured, his voice a mixture of frustration and something deeper, something dangerous.
Aurora could barely breathe. The air between them felt heavy, charged with an energy she couldn't escape.
She placed her hands against his chest, meaning to push him away, but the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms only made her hesitate. His fingers traced down her jawline, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Stay," he said again, softer this time.
Her resolve wavered. "Andrzej…"
He leaned in, his forehead barely grazing hers, their breaths mingling. His hand slid to the small of her back, holding her against him as though he couldn't bear to let go.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips just inches from hers.
But she didn't.
Because in that moment, she didn't want him to.
For a moment, the storm outside was forgotten. The war, the demons, the bloodshed—none of it existed.
There was only him.
And the way he was looking at her.