TESTING PATIENCE
638 Words
The North wind howled against the stone walls of the stronghold, rattling windows and chasing a chill through the corridors. I wrapped my cloak tighter around me, but even layered wool and furs couldn’t hide the fire building in my chest as Cassius followed me down the long hallway toward the training yard.
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” he asked, voice low and measured, but there was a sharp edge to it—like steel pressed against silk.
I glanced over my shoulder, a sly grin tugging at my lips. “About what?”
“About following the hunters, the fighters… risking yourself when you’re supposed to be safe here,” he said, dark eyes narrowing. “I don’t allow unnecessary risk.”
I tilted my head, letting my hair fall just so. “Oh? And you think I’m unnecessary?”
He froze, blinked, then scowled—half out of irritation, half out of something I couldn’t name. “Don’t push me, Seren.”
I laughed, loud and teasing, and kept walking. “You love it.”
A flicker of something—frustration, amusement, maybe desire—crossed his face. “I… don’t. I’m responsible. I have to make sure you survive, not flirt.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re very responsible,” I murmured, stepping closer until our shoulders brushed. My heartbeat quickened. “But maybe you could survive a little… distraction.”
His jaw tightened. His hand hovered near mine, indecisive, before he clamped it into a fist at his side. “You’re testing me,” he said quietly, not accusing, just stating.
“And?” I countered, tilting my chin up. “Are you failing?”
He inhaled sharply, and for a heartbeat, the cold, calculated king vanished behind the wolf who had been betrayed, hardened, and disciplined by loss. His eyes darkened with something softer, more dangerous. “Perhaps,” he admitted, voice low, “perhaps I enjoy being tested.”
My grin widened. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He stepped closer, daringly close, and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear—not gentle, not aggressive, just deliberate. My pulse jumped, and I realized I was holding my breath.
“Careful,” he said, almost a whisper, “I don’t apologize for being… intense.”
“Good,” I shot back, stepping forward to close the small space between us. “Because I like intense.”
He froze for a moment, studying me as if weighing my words against the world. Then—impossibly—he smirked. “You’re reckless.”
“Am I?” I challenged, teasing, daring him to move, to react.
“Yes,” he said, then reached out, brushing my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “And infuriating.”
I shivered at the contact but didn’t pull away. “You’ve got to admit it’s… fun,” I said softly, daring, testing, and knowing full well the power I held over him.
Cassius’s lips twitched upward—not a smile, not yet—but enough that I caught it. “Fun,” he murmured, voice roughened with something unspoken. “Dangerous… but fun.”
And in that fleeting second, the tension between us was a living thing—fire and frost, testing boundaries, tasting possibility.
Before I could say anything more, a knock echoed from the training hall door, pulling him back into the world he controlled. His gaze lingered on me for one last heartbeat. “I have to work,” he said, voice clipped, but the heat in his eyes betrayed him.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Of course,” I said, trying to hide my grin. But I knew—oh, I knew—we weren’t done. Not by a long shot.
- Writer
