The world beneath the water was silent, muted by the barrier of cool liquid that wrapped around him like a shroud. For a moment, Ash allowed himself to simply drift, feeling the gentle embrace of the lake as it dulled the chaos in his mind. He closed his eyes and let the weightlessness hold him, the current lapping softly at his skin. But then a noise broke through—the unmistakable thud of metal striking earth, accompanied by the faint rustle of disturbed leaves.
Ash's eyes snapped open beneath the water, his senses sharpening like a blade. Instinct took over, and he surged upward, breaking through the surface in a rush of water and moonlight. His breaths came heavy, chest rising and falling as he scanned the shadows of the forest edge, droplets running in rivulets down his rune-marked skin.
Every muscle in his body tensed, coiled with the sudden shift from calm to alertness. His eyes, sharp and probing, darted across the darkened treeline, searching for the source of the sound. A dagger gleamed dully where it lay in the dirt, its hilt catching the pale light. His jaw tightened; someone was watching him.
“Brave of you to sneak up on a male when he's bathing,” he called out, voice low, resonant, and laced with sarcasm, masking the hint of unease that crept along the edges of his mind. He took a cautious step toward the edge of the water, the tension in his stance unyielding.
“Who’s there?” The challenge in his tone was unmistakable, but underneath, there was something more—a flicker of recognition, an inkling that tugged at the back of his mind. He glanced around, eyes narrowing as he noticed the shadows shifting in the canopy above, leaves trembling ever so slightly.
The forest held its breath, waiting.
And then he saw it: a flash of blonde hair, the sheen of skin amidst the leaves. His eyes met hers, even from that distance, and the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. Vespera.
Her face was flushed, eyes wide with something between panic and embarrassment. Ash’s stern expression faltered, a mixture of surprise and something else passing over his features.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked, arching a brow. There was no malice in his voice, only a dry humor that belied the thundering of his own heart.
This moment—waist deep in the lake, naked, vulnerable, exposed in the moonlight, while she lay perched above him, an unexpected audience—left a strange heat crawling up his own neck, an unsettling dance between indignation and curiosity.
Ash's eyes snapped open beneath the water, his senses sharpening like a blade. Instinct took over, and he surged upward, breaking through the surface in a rush of water and moonlight. His breaths came heavy, chest rising and falling as he scanned the shadows of the forest edge, droplets running in rivulets down his rune-marked skin.
Every muscle in his body tensed, coiled with the sudden shift from calm to alertness. His eyes, sharp and probing, darted across the darkened treeline, searching for the source of the sound. A dagger gleamed dully where it lay in the dirt, its hilt catching the pale light. His jaw tightened; someone was watching him.
“Brave of you to sneak up on a male when he's bathing,” he called out, voice low, resonant, and laced with sarcasm, masking the hint of unease that crept along the edges of his mind. He took a cautious step toward the edge of the water, the tension in his stance unyielding.
“Who’s there?” The challenge in his tone was unmistakable, but underneath, there was something more—a flicker of recognition, an inkling that tugged at the back of his mind. He glanced around, eyes narrowing as he noticed the shadows shifting in the canopy above, leaves trembling ever so slightly.
The forest held its breath, waiting.
And then he saw it: a flash of blonde hair, the sheen of skin amidst the leaves. His eyes met hers, even from that distance, and the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. Vespera.
Her face was flushed, eyes wide with something between panic and embarrassment. Ash’s stern expression faltered, a mixture of surprise and something else passing over his features.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked, arching a brow. There was no malice in his voice, only a dry humor that belied the thundering of his own heart.
This moment—waist deep in the lake, naked, vulnerable, exposed in the moonlight, while she lay perched above him, an unexpected audience—left a strange heat crawling up his own neck, an unsettling dance between indignation and curiosity.
