Chapter 14 Saela
SAELA
Islip back to my room with bare feet silent against the wooden floor, clutching my clothes against my chest like armor.
The short distance between Kai's bed and my door feels endless, each step weighted with the memory of his hands on my skin and the terrifying vulnerability of admitting I wanted him to touch me.
My room welcomes me with familiar shadows and the scent of pine from the wooden walls.
I dress quickly, pulling on layers that feel strange after the warmth of skin against skin.
My fingers shake slightly as I tie my hair back, muscle memory from years of needing to be ready to run at a moment's notice.
The trembling frustrates me—I'm not some delicate flower that wilts at the first sign of intimacy.
But something about last night cracked me open in ways I'm still trying to understand.
When I finally emerge from my room, Kai stands by the hearth feeding fresh logs into the fire.
He's dressed in dark wool and leather, hair pulled back in the braided style that makes his ice-blue eyes seem even more piercing.
The sight of him sends heat climbing my neck as fragments of our lovemaking surface unbidden—the way his large hands mapped every inch of my body like he was memorizing sacred text, how his voice dropped to that rumbling bass when he told me I was beautiful.
"Better?" he asks without turning around, though I catch the slight tension in his shoulders that suggests he's as affected by this morning's conversation as I am.
"Better," I confirm, settling into the chair across from where he works. The distance feels safer than standing close enough to touch, though part of me craves the solid reassurance of his presence.
He glances over his shoulder with an expression I can't quite read. "Bronn was here."
My stomach clenches with familiar dread. "What did he want?"
"To discuss our... arrangement." Kai's jaw tightens as he turns to face me fully, flames casting shadows across features that look carved from stone. "He knows something's changed between us."
"And that's a problem?" The question is harsh as my defensive walls snap back into place despite my best efforts to stay open.
"Not for me." His voice carries conviction that makes warmth bloom in my chest. "But he's pushing for formal binding, using what's happening between us as justification for his political theories."
I lean back in the chair, processing implications that feel like a trap closing around newfound happiness. "So now that we care about each other, he wants to make it official clan business."
"Exactly." Kai crosses to the table, his massive frame moving with fluid grace that shouldn't be possible for someone his size. "Which is exactly what I won't let happen. This is ours, Saela. Whatever grows between us happens because we choose it, not because tradition demands it."
The fierce protectiveness in his voice makes something tight in my chest loosen slightly. He meant what he said earlier about wanting me for myself rather than obligation. The knowledge settles like warmth in my bones, foreign but welcome.
"What did you tell him?"
"That he can wait." Ice-blue eyes meet mine with determination that makes my pulse quicken. "That rushing into a formal ceremony would destroy everything we're building."
Relief floods through me so intensely it leaves me lightheaded.
Part of me had been bracing for him to cave to political pressure, to announce that morning clarity made him realize last night was a mistake better corrected through official channels.
Instead he's choosing to protect what we have from external interference.
"Thank you," I say quietly, not trusting my voice with anything louder.
He settles into the chair across from me, close enough that I can see golden flecks in his ice-blue eyes. "You don't have to thank me for refusing to let my brother turn our relationship into political theater."
Our relationship. The casual way he says it makes warmth spread through my chest like brandy on an empty stomach.
Yesterday I would have flinched at the implication of connection, convinced that depending on anyone was a weakness I couldn't afford.
Now the idea of being claimed—truly claimed, by choice rather than circumstance—feels like a gift instead of a burden.
"I've never had a relationship," I admit with honesty that surprises me. "Not really. There was never time or safety for anything beyond basic survival."
Something shifts in his expression, protective instinct mixing with what looks like barely contained anger at a world that taught me to expect so little. "You have time now."
"Do I?" The question emerges before I can stop it, vulnerability bleeding through despite attempts to maintain composure. "With everything happening—Sera, the Stonevein, whatever political pressure your brother represents—how long before circumstances force choices neither of us wants to make?"
Kai leans forward, large hands reaching across the space between us to cover mine. His touch grounds me instantly, callused fingers warm against skin that suddenly feels too sensitive.
"Hey." His voice drops to that rumbling bass that makes my spine straighten with involuntary response. "Look at me."
I meet his ice-blue gaze with effort, gray-green eyes probably showing more fear than I'd like. But something about his steady presence makes honesty feel safer than deflection.
"I meant what I said this morning," he continues with conviction that resonates in my bones.
"You're not my responsibility or my burden or something I'm stuck with because of clan politics.
You're my choice. And I'll keep choosing you for as long as you'll let me. I won't let anyone else mess that up."
The emotions I'm not equipped to handle flood through my chest in waves. No one has ever spoken to me like that—like I'm worth choosing, worth fighting for, worth more than whatever convenience I might provide.
"I don't know how to do this," I whisper, fingers turning under his to grip with probably more force than necessary.
"Neither do I," he admits with a smile that transforms his entire face. "But we'll figure it out together."
The promise settles something restless in my chest, fear giving way to cautious hope that maybe, for once, I don't have to navigate uncertainty alone. The sensation feels foreign and terrifying and absolutely necessary.
A sharp knock at the door interrupts the moment, a familiar rhythm that makes Kai's expression darken with irritation. "What now?"
"Kai!" Ursik's voice carries urgency that makes both of us straighten with alert attention. "We've got movement near the southern perimeter. Bronn wants you suited up and ready to ride in ten minutes."
My blood turns to ice water, every survival instinct screaming warnings about threats closing in. "Stonevein?"
"Probably." Kai rises with fluid motion that speaks to years of military training, already moving toward the weapon racks near the front door. "Stay inside. Lock the door behind me and don't open it for anyone except Shae or someone you absolutely trust."
Fear claws at my throat as I watch him strap on leather armor with practiced efficiency. The sight of him preparing for battle makes me want to grab his arm and beg him not to leave, terror at being left alone warring with equally strong need not to seem weak or clingy.
"How long will you be gone?" I hate how small I sound.
"I don't know." He pauses in buckling his sword belt to look at me with an expression that's both reassuring and grim. "But I'll come back, Saela. Whatever happens out there, I'm coming back to you."
The promise makes my throat tight with emotions I'm not ready to name. Before I can stop myself, I close the distance between us and press my lips to his in a kiss that tastes like desperation and need. He responds immediately, large hands cupping my face with gentleness that makes my heart race.
"Be careful," I breathe against his mouth.
"Always am." His thumb traces my cheekbone with a touch that feels like benediction. "Keep the fire going. I'll be back before you know it."
He's gone before I can form another protest, door closing behind him with finality that makes the longhouse feel too empty, too quiet.
I turn the heavy lock with hands that shake slightly, metal clicking into place with sound that should be reassuring but somehow makes me feel more trapped than protected.
The next hour crawls by with agonizing slowness.
I pace between my room and the main living area, starting at every sound from outside while my imagination conjures increasingly dire scenarios about what Kai might be facing.
Wind through the trees becomes enemy scouts.
Voices in the distance become battle cries.
The normal sounds of camp life warp into threats that make my pulse race with familiar hypervigilance.
When the door finally opens again, I nearly jump out of my skin before recognizing Kai's massive frame silhouetted against afternoon light. Relief hits me so hard my knees actually weaken, months of accumulated tension releasing all at once.
"False alarm," he says as he strips off armor, voice carrying weariness that speaks to adrenaline crash after sustained alertness. "Tracks from yesterday when our scouts were checking the perimeter. Nothing fresh."
I nod like this information makes perfect sense while my body struggles to accept that immediate danger has passed. The hypervigilance that kept me alive for years doesn't shut off easily, survival instincts requiring more than logical reassurance to stand down.
Kai notices my continued tension immediately, ice-blue eyes assessing with concern that makes warmth bloom in my chest despite the lingering fear. "Come here."