The hooves of their horses beat a steady rhythm down the dirt road, the northern wall long behind them. Neither spoke for a while, the weight of the border crossing still lingering. Finally, Lucian broke the silence.

  “So,” he said dryly, “if you had come alone, what exactly was your plan to get through the gate without papers?”

  Amira tilted her head, crimson eyes glinting playfully from beneath her hood. “Oh, I had a plan.”

  Lucian arched a brow. “Which was?”

  “Smile innocently.” She grinned, flashing her white teeth. “Maybe shed a tear or two. Works more often than you think.”

  Lucian’s frown deepened. “That’s not a plan.”

  “Life is a gamble,” she sang, nudging her horse closer until their knees brushed. “Besides, it worked with you, didn’t it?” She said quietly to herself.

  He shot her a sharp look. “What was that?”

  She only giggled and urged her horse ahead.

  The road dipped into a muggy valley where an abandoned town sprawled across the floor. Houses leaned drunkenly against one another, windows boarded, roofs caved in.

  Lucian slowed his horse, scanning the empty streets. “Stay close.”

  “Oh? How close?” Amira teased, though her eyes darted between the hollow houses.

  They passed doors creaking on rusted hinges, shutters tapping softly though no wind stirred.

  At the far end of town, Lucian stiffened. A prickle ran down his neck, eyes were on him. He turned his head slightly, sweeping alleys and broken rooftops. Nothing moved. Whoever watched them chose not to strike.

  They kept moving, putting the town far behind them.

  With Roka still a day’s ride away, they stopped at the edge of the woods. Lucian tethered the horses and built a small fire. Amira dropped onto her blanket with a dramatic sigh.

  “Finally! My legs are going to fall off.” She glanced at him through the firelight, lips curving. “You could always offer me a massage.”

  Lucian shot her a flat look, but his gaze lingered too long on her shoulders.

  Amira blushed faintly, leaning on her elbow, chin in her palm. “Or I could give you one,” she said lightly, though a trace of heat lingered in her tone.

  Lucian cleared his throat, unsure of himself as his cheeks became slightly red.

  Amira bit her lip at his reaction wanting to tease him further, but before she could speak Lucian responded.

  “…If you insist.” He tugged his shirt over his head and sat with his back to her, the firelight cutting across old scars.

  Amira froze, mouth slightly open. “Uh- ah” she tried speaking but nothing came out.

  “I—I’ve never done this before,” she whispered, watching the steady rise and fall of his back.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “It’s fine,” Lucian said quietly. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like either. But… your hands look soft enough.”

  Her face burned. Slowly, she placed her hands on him, hesitant at first, then firmer, tracing every muscle and running her fingers along his scars.

  Lucian exhaled, his shoulders loosening under her touch. Amira licked her teeth, caught between embarrassment and fascination. The warmth of him, the solidity beneath her hands, it was overwhelming.

  She slid a little closer, knees brushing his sides. A teasing thought entered her mind as she slid her hands down his waist toward the front of his body.

  Before she could go further, Lucian suddenly caught her ankles and pulled her against his back.

  “Wha—what are you doing?” she gasped.

  “Your legs. You said they were sore.”

  He kneaded her calves and thighs, working down to her feet. Amira melted against him with a helpless sigh, cheek pressed to his back, both hands resting on his shoulders. Wanting to resist but helpless against his big hands.

  Lucian’s thoughts grew unsteady as he felt her squishy chest pressed against his back, heat rising in his chest. He forced himself to stop before he lost control. Standing abruptly, he tugged his shirt on. “Thank you. That was… nice.”

  Amira blinked, pulled from her trance and began twirling her thumbs. “Y-yeah. Mine too.”

  Lucian sat back at the fire, staring into the flames. Amira hugged her knees, still feeling the phantom of his touch. Longing for more.

  “Back to brooding already?” she teased softly.

  Lucian rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep.” His voice was unusually gentle.

  Her smile softened. “Goodnight then, brooding man.” She curled up, eyes closing, a faint smile lingering.

  The crack of a branch snapped Lucian awake.

  Figures burst from the undergrowth, blades flashing.

  He moved first. A fist shattered one jaw. His boot smashed another’s ribs. Steel hissed, he caught a dagger hand, twisted, and broke the wrist before slamming the man into the dirt. By the time the firelight steadied, half a dozen men lay sprawled and groaning.

  Amira never stirred. Or so it seemed. Behind her lashes, her crimson eyes were wide open. She watched silently, heart pounding, wanting to see just how far he would go.

  Lucian dragged them into the woods. When they woke, he questioned them coldly.

  “Who are you?”

  No answer.

  “What do you want?”

  Silence.

  “How did you find us?”

  Still nothing.

  Lucian’s voice dropped to a growl. “Fine. Then you don’t need tongues to stay silent.”

  His patience broke. He tore their throats out one by one, the forest filling with wet, ragged sounds. Blood steamed on the cold ground. Only one was left, a thin, shaking boy, barely older than sixteen.

  “Why?” Lucian demanded, blood dripping from his fingers.

  The boy stammered. They were scavengers, desperate. They hunted small groups leaving the border. They served Flesh, the syndicate that ruled most of No Man’s Land. The others hadn’t spoken out of fear, Flesh punished betrayal worse than death.

  Lucian leaned close, Soulflame flaring like smoke. His voice rasped like iron dragged across stone. “Run. Tell your boss if he comes near us again, I’ll burn down everything he loves. Without mercy.”

  The boy wet himself and bolted into the night.

  Lucian crouched at the riverbank. His reflection stared back, hands painted red again. He plunged them into the water, scrubbing until the stain was gone.

  ‘Always blood, I hope she doesn't mind.’

  He returned to camp. Ami lay still, her breathing even.

  Lucian muttered, “Amazing how she can sleep through all that noise,” he scoffed and kept watch until dawn.

  The next day, the road carried them to Roka.

  Lucian blinked in disbelief. Fields stretched wide, green and orderly. Humans, demons, and beastfolk worked side by side, cat eared humans laughing with baskets, ox-men pulling plows, demons guiding irrigation channels with practiced ease.

  Each demon wearing the sideways infinity mark they all get at birth. Pointing and laughing with humans.

  The town bustled. Children ran barefoot in the dirt, waving to strangers. Merchants called from stalls. For the first time, Amira lowered her hood. She waved openly, silver hair gleaming.

  Lucian stared. Peaceful. Too peaceful.

  A cow-eared woman with a generous… personality, and a basket of berries called, “Hiya! Y’all new to town?”

  “Yes. We’re looking for Layla. Do you know her?” Amira asked.

  The woman laughed and pointed up the hill. “That way. Careful, she’s got quite the temper after drinking all night.”

  At the hill’s crest stood a shabby house worn from time and neglect. Amira knocked.

  The door creaked open. A blonde woman with crimson eyes and tousled hair appeared, curves outlined by her underwear. Her voice was sharp and rude.

  “What do you wa—”

  Then her gaze landed on Amira. Her expression broke into joy. She threw her arms around her.

  “My lady! I’m so glad you’ve finally come back to me!”

  Lucian froze, hand tightening on his gear. My lady? The thought struck like a blade to the gut. His gray eyes hardened as he stared at Amira, questions piling like thunder in his chest.