Chapter 29

Relief

Aurelia stilled—her gaze focusing on a faint shimmer near the doorway, magicka in the air. Before she could turn fully, the shadows bent—Ondolemar stepped through, cloaked in silence. His golden eyes flickered—control fraying at the edges, tension etched in the line of his jaw.

She didn't move at first, only watched him. "You're back," she said with relief.

"You thought I wouldn't be." His voice was low, stepping closer.

"No." She tilted her head, eyes steady. "I worried you might not."

Something shifted in her look, soft, unguarded, and it unraveled him, not because he feared it, but because it settled too easily in his bones. He exhaled—sharp, closing another step. "This can't go on," he said clipped, his word rehearsed.

Her brow arched. "Then why are you here?"

He faltered. She stepped forward, slow, and deliberate. "Unless you've already weighed the cost."

Ondolemar's jaw tightened. Her nearness a current he couldn't avoid. Before reason could pull him back, he moved—hands finding her waist, pulling her in—his lips catching hers, meant as a goodbye, brief and firm. But she pressed closer, deepening it, her body molding to his—and restraint cracked, splintering under her heat.

His fingers splayed at her back, curling against fabric, then skin, sliding up, tracing her spine as the kiss turned urgent, edges blurring. "Aurelia," he rasped, breaking just enough to meet her eyes, a warning teetering. "This undoes us."

"I'm not running," she murmured—voice steady, eyes locked—her hands slipping to his collar, tugging him nearer.

He exhaled. His lips found hers again, slower, deliberate, tasting her resolve. She didn't flinch. Her fingers threading his hair, pulling him down as his control slipping like sand, hands roaming her waist, her hips, fabric bunching under his grip.

He drew back his breath uneven, taking her hand, guiding her to the bed with a quiet pull. Her dress shifted as his fingers brushed the ties, loosening them then pausing as it fell to her shoulders. "You're sure?" he murmured, his voice low, rough, lips grazing her neck, searching her gaze.

She nodded slight, firm. Her hands steady as the dress slipped free, pooling at her feet. He guided her down—gentle, reverent—kisses trailing her throat, her collarbone, heat building as fabric gave way to skin. Her breath hitched his hands steady, exploring, her legs parting, drawing him in. The air thickened, his name soft on her lips.

Aurelia lay beside Ondolemar, her head resting against his shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. He had one arm draped around her, his grip firm but hesitant, as if he wasn't sure whether to hold her close or let go.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, in a voice quieter than she had ever heard from him, Ondolemar finally broke the silence.

"This should not have happened." Though his words held no true conviction-just the ghost of responsibility trying to creep back in.

Aurelia stiffened slightly, but before she could move away, he tightened his arm around her. She glanced up at him, watching the way his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, as if looking her in the eye would make this too real.

He exhaled slowly, his fingers tracing over her bare shoulder before he spoke again, softer this time. "And yet… I wouldn't undo it."

His words settled between them. Aurelia said nothing, only shifting closer, pressing her palm against his chest.

He tilted his head towards her, brushing his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. "We must be careful, Aurelia."

"Did something happen at the Embassy?"

Ondolemar's fingers stilled for a second before he resumed the slow, absentminded motion. He exhaled through his nose, his gaze flickering downward to meet hers.

"It was nothing unexpected," he said carefully. "Merely a reminder of what is at stake."

Aurelia studied him, his expression remained impassive, his tone was too even. "You're deflecting," she said, her voice quiet but firm.

A flicker of something crossed his face—something unreadable. He did not confirm nor deny her words. Instead, he brushed his knuckles along her jaw, a deliberate distraction.

"It does not matter now," he murmured. "I am here."

Aurelia felt herself waver at the gentleness of his touch. She exhaled softly, closing her eyes for a moment before turning her face into his touch, letting herself be drawn into the comfort he offered.