Heir to a Fallen Star

Chapter 24

The morning light filters into the room in bright, sharp beams, slicing through the heavy curtains and illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. For a moment, everything is perfectly still. The deep, marrow-deep warmth of the bed wraps around you like a cocoon.

As your eyes fully adjust, you notice the thick trails of condensation rolling down the glass pane of the window—a silent, undeniable testament to the intense, feverish heat the two of you had generated against the mountain cold just hours before.

A soft smile touches your lips, but as you shift to sit up, a sharp, highly noticeable ache flares through your muscles. You let out a small, instinctive wince, your hand flying to your hip as your body vividly reminds you of exactly how thoroughly Kaelen had taken control.

Instinctively, you pull the heavy woollen blankets back to inspect the damage—and your breath hitches completely in your throat.

There, stark against the pale, worn sheets, are several unmistakable, crimson stains.

The reality of it hits you like a physical wave. A fierce, blinding heat rushes up your neck, flooding your face in a matter of seconds. Your hands instantly fly up to cover your burning cheeks, your fingers pressing hard against your skin as if you could somehow shield yourself from the sheer, overwhelming embarrassment of what the innkeeper is going to think.

Beside you, the mattress shifts with a heavy, lazy groan.

Kaelen stirs, the sudden lack of your warmth next to him pulling him from his deep sleep. His massive arm reaches out blindly, searching the bed until his large, calloused hand finds your thigh. He blinks his moss-green eyes open, squinting slightly against the morning sun, his dark hair a messy, tumbled ruin around his face.

He looks up at you sitting there, your face buried in your hands, your shoulders tense and flushed.

"Iris?" he rumbles, his voice incredibly deep, rough, and thick with early morning gravel. He pushes himself up onto one elbow, his brow furrowing with instant, protective concern as he tracks the crimson flush spreading down to your chest. "Hey... what's wrong? Are you hurt, Red?"

Kaelen’s brow furrows in confusion for a fraction of a second, his gaze following yours down to the pale fabric of the mattress. The moment his eyes land on the small, distinct crimson stains, he goes completely still.

The early morning fog clears from his mind instantly.

He remembers the fierce, desperate way you had held onto him, the slight hesitation before you gave him control, and the quiet confession of innocence that you’d shared before the fire had burned out. He hadn't fully realized—hadn't truly processed—what that meant until this exact second.

As your face disappears back into your hands, your muffled voice wishing the earth would open up and swallow you whole, the bed shifts under his weight.

Kaelen doesn't look away, and he doesn't laugh. Instead, a wave of profound, fiercely protective tenderness washes over his rugged features. He sits up completely, ignoring the chill of the morning air on his bare chest, and moves closer until his massive frame is right next to you.

"Iris," he breathes, his gravelly voice dropping to a rough, incredibly gentle whisper.

He reaches out, his large, warm hands gently but firmly grasping your wrists. With a slow, patient pressure, he pulls your hands away from your face, forcing you to uncover your burning cheeks. He doesn't let go; he keeps your smaller hands safely cupped in his calloused palms, grounding you.

When you finally look at him, you don't find amusement or judgment in his moss-green eyes. You find a reverence so deep it makes your chest ache. His gaze is soft, entirely captivated, and brimmed with a fierce devotion.

"Look at me, Red," he murmurs, leaning in until his forehead gently rests against yours. His thumb softly strokes the back of your knuckles. "There is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. Do you hear me? Nothing."

He glances down at the sheets for just a beat, his chest rising in a heavy, emotional breath before he looks back into your eyes.

"You gave me something incredibly sacred," he whispers, his voice trembling slightly with a raw emotion you've never heard from him before. "After everything you've lost, everything you've been through... you trusted me with this. I am honoured, Iris. Don't you dare hide your face from me."

He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, then another to your flushed cheek, his stubble scratching gently against your skin.

"As for the sheets," he adds, a small, incredibly tender smirk finally tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tries to ease your anxiety, "Maeve can think whatever she wants. I'll buy the damn bed from her if it makes you feel better. But right now, all I care about is you. Are you alright? Are you in pain?"

A wave of pure, unadulterated relief washes over you, your shoulders finally dropping as the tight knot of embarrassment in your chest completely dissolves. Looking into his soft, devoted eyes, any lingering doubt vanishes, replaced by a profound happiness that you chose him—that this milestone belongs entirely to the two of you.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, your posture softening completely as you lean into his solid warmth.

"Let's just say," you murmur, a playful, slightly wicked spark returning to your eyes despite the lingering flush on your cheeks, "I doubt I'll make a full day's ride today. Any chance we could stay another night?" You slide your hands up his bare chest, your fingers tracing the hard line of his collarbone as you tilt your chin up. "Perhaps spend the night exactly the same?"

Kaelen’s eyes darken instantly, a low, rumbling chuckle vibrating deep in his chest. The sheer possessive pride that flashes across his rugged features is breathtaking. He catches your waist, his large hands sinking into your skin as he pulls you flush against him, letting you feel the immediate, heavy heat of his body.

"Another night?" he rumbles, his gravelly voice dropping to a rough, teasing whisper right against your lips. "Red, I'd stay in this drafty room for a year if it meant keeping you exactly like this."

He leans down, stealing a deep, slow kiss that leaves you entirely breathless, reminding your aching muscles exactly what he's capable of. When he finally pulls back, his smirk is devastatingly handsome.

"Consider the horses rested," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip beneath the heavy blankets. "We aren't going anywhere today. And as for spending the night the exact same way? I think I can manage that. But first... let's see about taking care of you this morning.

You lean heavily into his shoulder, your voice trailing off into a dreamy, contented sigh. "Hmmm, I could really use a good warm soak... and then a hearty breakfast," you murmur, practically melting against his side as you imagine the soothing heat of a bath on your aching muscles.

Kaelen’s expression softens instantly into something incredibly tender. He runs a hand down your bare back, his warm palm soothing the chill of the morning air.

"A warm soak and a heavy breakfast. Your wish is my command, Red," he rumbles, a gentle smile crinkling the corners of his moss-green eyes.

He presses one last kiss to your forehead before reluctantly shifting away, throwing the heavy blankets off his broad, scarred shoulders. You watch as he stretches, his muscles flexing in the morning light, completely unbothered by the cold room as he reaches for his trousers.

"I'll go downstairs and get Maeve to haul up a copper tub and plenty of steaming water," he says, strapping his belt on and tossing a thick, warm tunic over his head. He pauses by the side of the bed, leaning down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "And I'll make sure she brings up enough eggs, thick bacon, and fresh bread to feed an army. You just stay right there and keep warm until I get back."

With a wink, he slips out the heavy timber door, leaving you wrapped in the blankets, smiling eagerly at the prospect of a long, luxurious day of being thoroughly spoiled by him.

I call out before he leaves for him to come back, "You’re going in the tub with me Mr, after that we can head downstairs for breakfast"

Kaelen pauses, his hand resting on the heavy iron latch of the timber door. At the sound of your voice, he turns back around, a slow, utterly wicked grin spreading across his rugged face.

"Is that an order, Iris?" he asks, his gravelly voice dropping an octave as he steps back into the room, letting the door click shut behind him.

He walks back over to the bed, the boards creaking softly under his heavy boots. He stands over you, looking down with a mix of lazy amusement and that familiar, burning intensity that always makes your pulse skip. He reaches down, casually unbuckling his belt and tossing it onto a nearby chair, followed immediately by the thick tunic he had just put on.

"Because if you think I'm going to argue about getting into a steaming tub with a beautiful, bare, golden-haired woman, you clearly don't know me as well as you think you do," he rumbles, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest.

He leans down, bracing his hands on either side of your shoulders, trapping you against the pillows once more. His moss-green eyes gleam in the morning light.

"I'll go tell Maeve to start heating the water," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours in a tease of a kiss that promises everything. "But the second that tub is full... you're stuck with me, Red. Downstairs breakfast can wait."

Your melodic laugh rings out through the quiet room, a bright, happy sound that follows Kaelen as he finally slips out the door and heads down the creaking wooden stairs.

Left alone in the quiet warmth of the bed, you pull the heavy woollen blankets up to your chin, a dreamy, permanent smile fixed on your face. The anticipation is almost intoxicating. You listen to the distant, muffled sounds of the tavern awakening downstairs—the low murmur of voices, the heavy thud of Kaelen's boots, and soon after, the distinct, welcome sound of sloshing water and heavy footsteps making their way up the stairs.

A few minutes later, the door pushes open. Two burly tavern hands haul in a large, steaming copper tub, placing it right before the glowing embers of the hearth, followed closely by Maeve, who gives you a knowing, highly amused wink that sends a quick zap of pink back to your cheeks. They fill the tub with bucket after bucket of steaming, fragrant water until the small room is completely thick with warm, comforting mist.

The moment the door clicks shut behind them, Kaelen locks it from the inside.

He turns to you, already shedding his boots and trousers, his rugged, scarred body slick with a sheen of light sweat from helping carry the heavier buckets. The steam swirls around his broad shoulders, making him look like some ancient, protective warrior stepping out of the mist. His moss-green eyes lock onto yours, heavy with promise.

"Your bath is drawn, Red," he murmurs, his gravelly voice incredibly soft as he walks over to the edge of the bed, extending a large, calloused hand to help you up. "Ready to get warm?"

Kaelen’s breath hitches, the sudden, absolute silence in the room heavier than any word he could have spoken.

Any trace of lazy amusement vanishes from his face as he watches you rise. With your newfound confidence, you let the heavy blankets pool around your ankles, stepping into the morning light completely bare. Your long, golden locks sway against the small of your back with every deliberate step you take across the creaking floorboards. His moss-green eyes track every single inch of you, burning with a mix of raw hunger and absolute reverence.

You step over the lip of the heavy copper tub, sinking slowly into the steaming, fragrant water with a soft, blissful sigh as the heat immediately begins to soothe your aching muscles.

The water splashes softly against the metal sides, rising up to cover your chest. You lean your head back against the rim, looking up at him through the rising mist with a brilliant, satisfied smile.

Kaelen stands frozen by the edge of the bed for a long beat, his chest heaving as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. A low, gravelly groan escapes him.

"You're going to be the absolute death of me, Iris," he rumbles, his voice thick and rough with emotion.

He doesn't waste another second. He crosses the room in two long, silent strides, his massive, scarred frame cutting through the steam. He steps into the large tub behind you, the water rising precariously close to the brim as his heavy weight settles into the deep basin.

Instantly, his large, solid warmth surrounds you. He sits back, pulling your spine flush against his chest, his long legs bracketing yours beneath the swirling, hot water. His large, calloused hands find your waist under the surface, pulling you back until you are completely anchored against him.

He buries his face in the crook of your wet hair, inhaling deeply, his hot breath ghosting over your damp skin. "Tell me you're not cold now, Red," he whispers against your neck, his hands beginning a slow, incredibly gentle massage up your ribcage to soothe the tension from the night before.

You close your eyes, letting your head drop back against his solid shoulder as a massive, blissful sigh of relief escapes your lips. The steaming water works its magic, melting away the sharp aches in your muscles, while Kaelen's large, warm hands continue their slow, rhythmic massage against your skin. For a few perfect moments, the room is filled with nothing but the soft sloshing of water, the crackle of the hearth, and pure, unadulterated romance.

Then, the universe decides you’ve had enough quiet dignity for one morning.

A loud, fierce, and entirely unprompted growl erupts from deep within your stomach, echoing off the copper walls of the tub with hilarious clarity. It is the unmistakable demand of a body that spent the entire night working up a massive appetite.

The massage stops. For a second, the room goes completely still.

Then, the solid chest behind you begins to shake. A low, rumbling chuckle starts deep in Kaelen's throat, quickly bubbling up into a full, hearty laugh that echoes in the misty room. He buries his face in your wet hair to stifle the sound, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he shakes with amusement.

"Well," Kaelen rumbles, his gravelly voice dripping with affectionate mockery right against your ear. "It seems the little fire-cat has a beast of her own inside there."

He presses a playful, smacking kiss to the side of your neck, his thumbs teasingly digging into your hips.

"I'd say you definitely earned that appetite, Red," he chuckles, his moss-green eyes crinkling with endless warmth as you look back at him. "Come on. Let's get you washed up before that stomach of yours decides to eat me alive. I promised you a mountain of eggs and bacon, and I think I better deliver before you faint."