Liora stepped out of the taxi, after paying the taxi driver her movement brisk as she walked towards the front gate. The familiar sight of their suburban mansion stood like a beacon, its warm exterior bathed in soft afternoon light. Normally, this view would settle her, grounding her after any trip, but today was different. Her thoughts remained scattered, dominated by a single, unrelenting concern: Orla. Despite the mansion's comforting familiarity, it felt as though something intangible pressed on her.
Pushing open the front gate, Liora was immediately enveloped in the comforting sound of her daughter's laughter. It was light and melodic, filling the otherwise quiet house. Her steps quickened as she headed toward the garden, heart both yearning and uneasy.
Orla was right where Liora had hoped she'd be, seated on the carpet grass with her favorite stuffed animals circled around her. The tea party seemed to be in full swing. Mr. Fluffles, the centerpiece of Orla's makeshift gathering, sat propped up with a tiny porcelain teacup balanced precariously in his paws. Orla's cheeks were flushed, her bright eyes shining with the kind of joy only childhood innocence could create.
Relief surged through Liora, momentarily easing the tight knot that had been in her chest since she left the airport. Approaching quietly, she crouched beside her daughter, one hand reaching out instinctively to press against Orla's forehead. The warmth she felt was ordinary, nothing to suggest the fever Liora had feared earlier.
"Mommy!" Orla's voice rang out, her delight at seeing her mother unmistakable. She turned her sparkling eyes upward, her hands clasping Mr. Fluffles protectively. "Join us! Mr. Fluffles was just about to pour the tea."
Liora couldn't help but smile, the edges of her worry softening further. She leaned in and kissed Orla's forehead. "Maybe later, sweetheart," she said softly. "Where's Daddy?"
Orla's tiny hands gestured toward the front door as she replied, "In the kitchen!" before returning to her animated conversation with her stuffed companions.
Curiosity mingled with lingering relief as Liora rose and made her way to the front door. The inviting aroma of sauteed vegetables, warm spices, and herbs wafted through the house, growing stronger with each step. It wasn't just the scent that greeted her—it was the comfort of knowing that home was intact, the small yet significant details grounding her in this moment.
When Liora entered the kitchen, she couldn't help but pause. Alaric stood at the stove, clad in an apron that somehow managed to make him look even more endearing. He moved with a quiet confidence, stirring a pot as though he belonged there, which, to Liora, he truly did. The way he hummed to himself, completely unaware of her presence, made her heart ache with affection.
Unable to resist the opportunity, Liora retrieved her phone. The sight of him, so relaxed and focused, was too perfect to let pass without capturing. She framed the moment carefully, her lips quirking into a small smile as she snapped the photo. The soft click broke the serene rhythm of the kitchen, causing Alaric to turn.
When his eyes met hers, surprise illuminated his features. "Liora! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be on the plane by now."
Liora stepped forward, slipping her arms around his waist and leaning into him. The warmth of his body and the steady rise and fall of his breathing grounded her even more. "I was worried about Orla," she admitted. "I called, but you didn't answer. So, I came back."
Alaric's expression softened. His brows, furrowed in initial surprise, smoothed into understanding. "I'm sorry, love," he said, his voice low and warm. "My phone's charging in the bedroom. But as you can see," he gestured to the simmering pot and neatly chopped ingredients on the counter, "I've got lunch under control."
Liora's gaze drifted over the scene before her, taking in the careful preparation. The aroma in the air suddenly felt more vibrant as her stomach growled faintly. She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips curving into an approving smile. "I'm glad to see you handling things," she said, her tone teasing yet sincere. "But I have to admit, I'm relieved to be home."
Alaric's lips quirked into a soft smile. Without warning, he scooped her up and lifted her onto the kitchen counter. His hands lingered briefly on her hips as he leaned in, his nose brushing against her neck.
"And I'm glad you're here," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin.
Liora She tilted her head instinctively, her body responding to his closeness, her breath hitching as his lips grazed her neck. His fingers pressed lightly against her hips, anchoring her against the cool marble of the counter. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, the familiar strength beneath her palms sending a ripple of warmth through her.
"Liora," he murmured, his voice low and rich, the single word laced with both longing and restraint. His breath teased her skin, the faintest shiver trailing down her spine.
"Alaric," she whispered back, her tone soft but charged, her heart pounding as his lips lingered at the curve of her neck. Her fingers curled against his shoulders, pulling him imperceptibly closer.
His lips brushed against her pulse, featherlight, yet electrifying, his breath warm as he exhaled against her skin. "You don't know how much I've missed this," he murmured, his voice deep and raw, the weight of his words settling between them.
She smiled faintly, her fingers threading into his hair. "Then stop missing it," she whispered, her words daring, her tone teasing.
His soft chuckle rumbled against her neck as his nose trailed upward, his lips finding her jawline, the subtle rasp of his stubble against her skin adding to the intensity of the moment. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now," he admitted, his voice barely audible, his tone thick with emotion.
She tilted her head further, granting him access, the tension between them electric, each breath shared heightening the pull. Her fingers tightened in his hair, a wordless response, her own restraint wavering as she whispered, "Show me."
His lips hovered close to her's, but was not touching, their breaths mingling, the space between them nearly nonexistent, when suddenly—
The sharp, jarring bark of Max, their dog shattered the moment.
Both froze, the sound slicing through the fragile intimacy like a knife. Liora's eyes snapped open, her body stiffening against his as the aggression in the bark registered fully.
Alaric's head turned slightly, his brows drawing together. "That's... unusual," he said, his tone quiet but tense, the weight of the intrusion settling heavily over them.
Liora slipped off the counter, the warmth of the moment quickly replaced by a creeping sense of unease. "Max doesn't bark like that," she murmured, her voice low but steady, her eyes flicking toward the direction of the sound.
Liora straightened, her concern knitting her brow. "I'll go check on him," she said, her tone steady despite the flicker of worry growing inside her.