The Heat Beneath the Mist
1409 Words
Mistwood Hills looked different at night. The fog that drifted lazily in the morning now moved with purpose, sweeping over the cottage balcony like living silk. Alina stood by the railing, arms wrapped around herself, breathing in the cool air. She had been restless since meeting the Baba. Something in his half-broken warnings lingered like an echo in her chest.
Like someone calling her.
Like a heartbeat that didn’t belong to her.
A soft click came from behind her. She didn’t need to turn to know it was Riaan—the subtle firmness of his step, the quiet confidence in the way he filled a space just by entering it. A shiver slid through her spine before he even touched her.
“You came out here alone,” he said, voice deep, smooth, threaded with just the right amount of reprimand. Not harsh. Never harsh. But unmistakably dominant. “I thought we talked about that.”
His arms slid around her waist from behind, his chest pressing warmly against her back. That alone made her breath catch. Her body reacted to him too easily—too instinctively.
“I just needed air,” she whispered.
Riaan’s chin brushed her shoulder, rough stubble grazing her skin in a slow, claiming stroke. “You can take all the air you want,” he murmured, “as long as you take it with me.”
Her cheeks burned. She swallowed hard, gripping the railing as his arms closed more securely around her—protective, but also undeniably possessive.
“What’s troubling you?” he asked softly, though something in his tone said he already knew. “The Baba’s riddles?”
She hesitated. “He… he spoke as if something was watching me.”
Riaan exhaled slowly, his breath warm against the side of her neck. “People like him thrive on creating fear. Nothing is watching you. Not while I’m here.”
The way he said mine, without even using the word, made her knees weaken.
But then—
A faint thump.
Soft. Distant.
Like a heartbeat inside the mist.
Not hers.
Not Riaan’s.
Alina flinched.
Riaan tightened his hold instantly. “Alina?” His voice sharpened with concern. “What happened?”
“I—I thought I heard something.”
His hand slipped up to her cheek, turning her face gently toward him. “Look at me.” His eyes locked with hers, dark, commanding, yet so achingly gentle it made her chest tighten. “You don’t fear sounds. You tell me what you felt.”
Her breath faltered. “A pull,” she admitted softly. “Just… for a second.”
Riaan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t let go of her. Instead, he cupped the back of her neck with one hand, thumb stroking the sensitive spot just below her ear. The gesture made heat blossom beneath her skin.
“Come inside,” he whispered, voice deep. “I don’t want the cold getting to you.”
He didn’t wait for her to step away—he guided her. Not forceful, but firm. Not demanding, but undeniable. It was the kind of dominance that made her feel safe, seen, and unbearably aware of him.
Inside, the fireplace glowed, washing the cottage with warm amber light. Riaan stopped her near the sofa, turning her gently to face him.
“Talk to me,” he said again, low, coaxing, his finger lifting her chin so she couldn’t look away. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.”
His voice deepened.
Almost protective.
Almost possessive.
She inhaled shakily. “It’s just… the hill… it feels familiar.”
That made something flicker in his eyes—so fast she almost missed it. A shadow. A thought. A memory.
But then he softened again, thumb brushing her lower lip as if calming her entire world with that one touch.
“You’re safe with me, Alina,” he murmured. “Do you trust that?”
She nodded. Immediately. Without thought.
His lips curved into a slow, devastating smile. “Good.”
He stepped closer. Too close. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the subtle strength in his posture. Riaan didn’t have to touch her to make her feel owned—one look from him was enough.
His fingers trailed from her chin down to her collarbone, feather-light but scorching. “You don’t even know what you do to me when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” she whispered.
That smile deepened, dangerous and beautiful. “Like you want me to take control.”
Her breath hitched.
Riaan’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Not roughly. Not even urgently. But with absolute certainty.
“You melt the moment I touch you,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her lower back. “You try to hide it… but your body tells me everything.”
Her pulse raced.
His fingers curled into her waist, guiding her closer. “Tell me, Alina… what made you step onto that balcony alone? Hmm?”
She swallowed. “I just… needed a moment.”
He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Next time you need a moment… you take it against me.”
Her thighs tightened instinctively.
“And if something pulls at you again,” he added softly, hand pressing the small of her back, “you don’t run toward it. You run toward me.”
The fire cracked behind them, illuminating the shadows that seemed to dance along the walls. Outside, the wind howled. Inside, the air thickened between them.
Alina tried to speak—to break the spell before her voice betrayed her—but Riaan tilted her face up toward his again.
“Why do you always look like you’re about to run?” he asked quietly.
“Because… you’re intense,” she breathed.
He chuckled—a low, rich sound that curled through her stomach. “And you like it.”
Her heart thudded hard. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” he whispered, brushing a slow knuckle along her cheek. “Your pulse said it for you.”
Then he stepped even closer. So close she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. “Do you want distance?” he asked softly.
“…no.”
He smirked. “Good.”
His thumb stroked her hip as he guided her backward until her back met the wall.
“Alina…” Riaan murmured, voice taking on a dangerously tender edge. “I don’t want you afraid of anything. Especially not of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said, leaning his forehead to hers. “Because I’d break the world apart before I let anything hurt you.”
The sincerity stole her breath.
No man had ever spoken like that—possessive yet gentle, overwhelming yet grounded. Riaan wasn’t a red flag. Not here. Not now. He was a man any girl would fall for: confident, protective, fiercely attentive, almost too perfect.
Almost.
Her hands brushed his chest slowly, feeling the heat beneath his shirt. He sucked in a quiet breath—controlled, but strained.
“Careful,” he murmured, trapping her hands against his chest with one of his. “Touch me like that and I might forget every good intention I walked in with.”
A shiver raced down her spine.
His free hand stroked her waist, then moved up her side with agonizing slowness. She gasped softly.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
Her legs nearly gave out.
But then—
A sudden cold breeze brushed past her.
The lights flickered.
The fireplace crackled unnaturally.
And Alina felt it again—
That heartbeat.
That impossible, distant, aching heartbeat that didn’t belong to her husband.
She tensed.
Riaan immediately cupped her face. “Alina?”
“I… something’s here,” she whispered.
Riaan didn’t look around. Didn’t move. Didn’t release her.
He held her tighter.
“Let it come,” he said softly, dominance turning sharp. “It won’t take you. Not while I’m breathing.”
The words flooded her with warmth…
But the shadow in the room whispered another truth—
He was already watching.
Already waiting.
Already remembering.
And Alina didn’t even know his name yet.
- Writer
