Chapter 30
1402 Words
The whispers followed Elara all the way from the kitchens, a cacophony of nervous energy that matched the frantic pounding of her own heart.
She carried Commander Vaelith's evening meal through the winding stone corridors of the palace, her head lowered, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
The tray felt heavier than it should have, not because of the weight of the food, but because the air in the castle had grown thick, charged with an electricity that made her skin prickle.
Perhaps it was fatigue.
The guards outside the commander's chambers stepped aside immediately, their eyes avoiding hers.
One pushed the door open with a heavy thud.
Elara entered.
"My lord, your evening meal.
"No answer.
She frowned, the silence stretching t like a wire.
Usually, his commanding voice snapped out an order immediately.
"My lord?
"Silence.
The chamber appeared empty, save for the fire burning softly in the hearth, casting long, dancing shadows across the room.
Maps and scrolls covered the war table, detailing battles and bloodshed.
Several swords rested against the wall, gleaming in the firelight.
But there was no sign of Vaelith.
Carefully, her hands trembling, Elara set the tray down on a side table.
She glanced around, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"My lord?
"Still nothing.
Then she heard it.
The faint, rhythmic splash of water.Her brow furrowed.
Following the sound, drawn by a force she couldn't name, she moved deeper into the chamber.
Past the war table.
Past the fireplace.
Toward a partially open doorway at the rear of the room, from which steam billowed softly, carrying the scent of soap and something darker, more primal—musk and male heat.
"My lord?
"The words died in her throat.
Elara froze, her breath hitching in her chest.
A large copper bath stood in the center of the adjoining room, the water steaming lazily.
The air was thick with humidity, clinging to her skin like a lover's touch.
And standing beside it—Was Commander Vaelith.His back was to her.
He was completely naked, water dripping from his body in slow, mesmerizing trails as he rose from the large wooden tub.
The sight hit her like a physical blow.
His back was a landscape of hardened muscle, broad and powerful, the skin glistening wet.
Water cascaded down the deep valley of his spine, over the firm, rounded curve of his ass, and down legs that looked capable of crushing her.
He was magnificent, a statue of raw, unbridled masculinity brought to life.
His mask, the black steel that hid his identity from the world, lay discarded on a nearby bench.
His dark hair was damp, clinging to his neck in wild, unruly strands.
For one horrible, exhilarating moment, her mind simply stopped working.
"My lord!"
Her eyes squeezed shut immediately, though the image of his naked flesh was already burned into her mind.
"I-I'm sorry!" she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of terror.
"I only came to bring your meal!
I didn't mean to intrude!"
"It's okay, Elara," Vaelith said calmly.
The familiar voice carried amusement, but now it was laced with something else—a low, rumbling vibration that seemed to resonate directly in her groin.
Far too much amusement.
Heat rushed into her cheeks, burning her from the inside out.
"I didn't know you were bathing."
"I gathered that."
The amusement in his voice deepened, becoming a dark, seductive purr.
Elara wished the floor would swallow her whole.
She kept her eyes firmly shut, but behind her eyelids, all she could see was the gleam of his wet skin, the hard lines of his body.
Her hands clenched at her sides, her fingers digging into her palms.
.Behind her, she heard the splash of water, the heavy tread of bare feet on stone.
The sound was intimate, invasive, making her breath come in ragged gasps.
Then Vaelith spoke again, his voice closer now, right behind her ear.
She could feel the heat radiating from his naked body.
"What is it?
"She nearly groaned, her head falling back slightly before she caught herself.
"My lord?
"Vaelith chuckled, "What? You are not enjoying the view?
"The question only made her blush harder
."Uhhm... No, my lord.
I mean I..." She couldn't form the words.
Her mouth was dry,.A low chuckle escaped him again.
The sound did strange, terrible things to her heartbeat.
"Pass me that towel.
"Still refusing to open her eyes, terrified that if she looked at him again she would throw herself at his feet, Elara blindly searched until her fingers found the towel draped over a nearby chair.
She held it out, her hand shaking violently.
Carefully.
Very carefully.
His fingers brushed against hers as he took the towel.
The contact was electric, a spark that shot straight to her heart.
. She felt him move away, the air shifting as he wrapped the towel around his waist.
More movement followed.
Then silence.
"You can open your eyes now.
"Slowly, Elara obeyed.
And immediately wished she hadn't.
Or perhaps, wished she never had to look away again.
Vaelith stood only a few steps away.
The towel was wrapped securely around his waist, but it did little to hide the sheer power of the man beneath.
Water still glistened along his shoulders, tracing the lines of his chest, which was broad and covered in a light dusting of dark hair that made her fingers itch to touch it.
His dark hair hung damp around his face, framing features that were sharp, dangerous, and utterly captivating.
But none of that was what made her freeze.
It was his face.
For the first time since meeting him, there was no mask.
No black steel concealing his features. Nothing hiding him from view.
Elara stared.
The world seemed to disappear.
The room, the steam, the danger—it all faded into nothingness.
Her breath caught in her throat, her lungs refusing to work.
Her heart stopped, then restarted with a violent, thumping rhythm that echoed in her ears.
Those silver eyes.
Not hidden behind a mask.
Not seen across a crowded hall. Not glimpsed from a distance.
Silver eyes.
Silver eyes she knew.
Silver eyes she had known for years.
No. Impossible.
The room spun around her, the floor tilting beneath her feet.
A memory surfaced, vivid and overwhelming, crashing into her present reality.
A moonlit field.
Laughter ringing out in the darkness.
A familiar smile, warm and inviting.
Silver eyes looking at her with impossible warmth, filled with a love that had felt real even in the dream.
Dreams.
Hundreds of dreams.
Thousands.
Five years.
Five years of seeing the same man every night.
Five years of hearing the same voice in her head, whispering promises and comforts.
Five years of wondering if he was real, if he was just a figment of her lonely, desperate imagination.
Her lips parted, a silent scream dying on her tongue.
She couldn't speak.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't move.Vaelith noticed immediately.
The amusement vanished from his expression, replaced by a sharp, intense concern.
"Elara?
"She barely heard him.
Her eyes remained locked on his face.
On the face she knew better than her own.
The face she had searched for every night when sleep came, the face that had comforted her through years of loneliness, the face that had been the object of her most secret, most explicit fantasies.
The face from her dreams.
Suddenly the silver eyes made sense.
The familiarity.
The strange, magnetic pull every time she looked at him.
The impossible attraction she could never explain, the way her body reacted to him even when she didn't understand why.
It was him.It had always been him.
The man of her dreams, the lover who had touched her in the darkness of her sleep, was real.
And he was standing right in front of her, naked except for a towel, his silver eyes wide with shock.
"My lord..."
The whisper trembled, laden with a lifetime of repressed longing.
Vaelith frowned, concern replacing amusement, but his gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, and something dark and hungry flickered in those silver depths.
"What is it?
"Elara's heart pounded violently against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat of desire and fear.
Because for the first time in five years, the man from her dreams was standing right in front of her.
And he was real.
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