Chapter 9 - Nine
If I could bottle a feeling, I would have bottled that night.
After the ceremony, after the vows and the cheers and the feast that blurred into a haze of faces and scents and music, Darius brought me to the small cottage prepared for us at the edge of the Stormclaw territory.
It was simple—wooden walls, stone fireplace, heavy wool curtains—but it felt like it was ours.
New.
Unspoiled.
When the door clicked shut behind us, it was like stepping into a new life.
Darius set down the cloak he had draped around my shoulders and turned to face me.
The firelight danced across his face, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the warmth in his dark eyes.
For a moment, we just stared at each other.
No words.
No pressure.