The fire between them still burned, but now it was different. It wasn't just a clash of dominance or a battle of wills—it was something raw, something neither of them could ignore anymore.
Vexaria lay still for a moment, her breath unsteady, the warmth of Xypheron's presence still lingering beside her. The silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was filled with a thousand unspoken words, things neither of them had ever admitted out loud.
Xypheron propped himself up on one elbow, studying her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along her arm, his touch surprisingly gentle.
"What happens now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
His expression darkened slightly, as if he had been asking himself the same question. "That depends," he murmured. "Are you going to pretend this didn't happen?"
Vexaria turned her head to meet his gaze. There was no mockery there, no arrogance—just quiet curiosity. It unsettled her more than his usual taunts.
"I don't know," she admitted honestly. "Should I?"
Something flashed in his eyes. Amusement? Frustration? She couldn't tell. But instead of answering, he leaned closer, brushing his lips against her temple in an almost tender gesture.
"No," he said softly. "You shouldn't."
Her throat tightened at his words. She had spent so long convincing herself that she was immune to him, that whatever tension existed between them was nothing more than a challenge to be bested. But now, lying there beside him, she couldn't deny the truth.
This wasn't just a game anymore.
And that terrified her.
Xypheron seemed to sense her hesitation. "You don't have to run," he murmured, his voice smooth yet unreadable. "Not from me."
Vexaria scoffed, forcing herself to regain her usual sharpness. "You think I'm afraid of you?"
He chuckled, but it lacked his usual cockiness. "No. I think you're afraid of what this means."
She hated that he was right.
Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. "I don't