Page 62 of Crowned

He doesn’t answer right away. His fingers stop moving along my spine, and I feel the tension in his body rise, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface. I wait, letting the silence stretch between us, until he finally looks down at me, his eyes darker than before.

“I trust myself just fine,” he says, his voice low, rough. “But you? You’re a whole different story.”

My breath catches in my throat at the intensity of his gaze. It’s as though he’s seeing right through me, like he knows the thoughts I’ve been trying to bury, the ones I’ve only just started to admit to myself.

I tilt my chin up, meeting his eyes with as much defiance as I can muster, though my heart races beneath the weight of his words. “And what story is that, Vance?”

His hand tightens slightly around my waist, pulling me closer until I can feel the heat radiating from his body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat syncing with mine. His lips brush against the top of my head before he speaks again, his voice just above a whisper, a trace of vulnerability lacing his words.

“The kind that makes me want to hold you and push you away all at once. Because I know what happens when you let go.” He pauses, as if searching for the right words. “You make people lose themselves, and that’s not something I’m sure I can survive.”

I swallow hard, the weight of his confession settling heavy in the air between us. I want to say something, something that will ease the tension, but I can’t seem to find the right words. Instead, I lift my hand, pressing it against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath my palm, steady yet unyielding.

“I’m not here to make you lose yourself, Vance,” I say quietly. “I just need you to be...here. With me. Just for tonight.”

For a moment, there’s no response. Then, with a slow exhale, he nods, his grip on me softening just enough to allow me to settle into his arms fully. “You’ve got one hell of a way of making a man second-guess everything he thought he knew,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with something close to regret, but not quite.

I press my lips to the skin of his chest. “Maybe it’s not about second-guessing,” I reply softly, “Maybe it’s just about letting things happen the way they’re meant to.”

His breath hitches slightly at my words, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he holds me tighter, as though afraid that letting go would mean losing whatever fragile moment we’ve created between us.

We stay like that, wrapped up in each other’s presence, the fire slowly dying down in the background, but neither of us are willing to let go.

The night air is colder than I expected, a sharp bite that cuts straight through the thin layers of clothing I’m wearing. It’s the kind of cold that sinks into your bones, making you feel alive, alert – aware. And we need to be aware. Every instinct tells me that this mission is going to be more dangerous than we’d initially planned.

I don’t trust Summer and even though it’s been four days since we returned to the human realm and tasked her with being a double agent, I don’t trust the intel she’s reported back to us through the communicator the guys left her with when we met.

The Keep of Ashen Falls stronghold stands before us like a behemoth, its ancient stone walls towering, dark, and impenetrable, its sheer presence almost suffocating. The building looks like something out of an old war-torn history book, a relic from another time – but what’s inside is far more historical.

The Shadow Legion plans to expand their control, and thanks to their secret dealings with the Shikari, we need to gather more intel on them.

Malia stands next to me, her posture tense, though she tries to disguise it. She’s not supposed to be here. The plan had always been for her to stay behind, hidden in one of the palace saferooms, protected and out of sight. She’s a target.

We know it. The Shikari know it. The Shadow Legion knows it. Hell, even the Council of Elders knows it. If they caught wind of her being here, it could blow the whole operation wide open.

But we couldn’t leave her behind. Not after everything that’s happened – not with what she is, what she’s capable of.

We’re all still learning how to handle the dangerous power brewing inside her, and as much as I want to say we could manage without her, the truth is, we need her close. If things go south, we’ll need every weapon at our disposal – and Malia’s magic might just be that final trump card.

“You sure you’re okay to stay hidden?” I murmur, keeping my voice low, my breath visible in the chilled air. “You know the drill. Keep your distance. Don’t get involved unless we?—”

“I’m fine,” she cuts me off quickly, her voice firm but tight. “I’ll be fine, Reef. Just focus on the mission.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard her speak like that in a while. There’s a determination there that wasn’t there before, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of concern. But I don’t have time to dwell on it. Malia’s stubbornness is nothing new, and right now, the mission is the priority.

I glance at her one last time before motioning to the others, signaling that it’s time. We all slip into the shadows, moving as one, almost as though we’ve rehearsed this a thousand times. The stillness around us is suffocating, and the soft echo of our footsteps seems to be too loud in the eerie silence. But we push forward. The sooner we’re inside, the sooner we can gather the intel and get out.

We approach the side entrance, a small, unassuming door hidden behind a large cluster of ivy. It’s our best chance of getting in unnoticed. We move quickly, efficiently, like we’ve done this a thousand times. The door creaks open, just enough for us to slip inside, and we take our first steps into the heart of the stronghold.

Inside, the atmosphere is heavy. The stone walls are damp, the air thick with the scent of moss and mildew. The torchlight along the corridors casts flickering shadows that stretch unnaturally across the stone floors. It’s a disorienting feeling, like being caught in a labyrinth, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.

I catch Malia’s eye for a brief second, and for a moment, it feels like the world holds its breath. She’s keeping her distance as planned, staying at the back, hidden in the darkness. I know she’s trying to stay calm, but there’s a tension in the air that I can’t ignore. It’s in the way her shoulders are drawn tight, the way her gaze flicks nervously around the room, as though she’s already sensing something I can’t. But I don’t have time to think about it.

We continue down the narrow corridor, my hand on the communicator at my side, ready to signal the other teams that are helping us if something goes wrong. But as we press forward, something feels off. The silence is starting to feel unnatural, like the calm before the storm. The walls are closing in, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re walking right into a trap.

We were meant to be here before the Shadow Legion attacked, but it’s starting to feel like we’ve arrived too late.

We make it to the central hall, a large room that seems to stretch endlessly in all directions. At the far end, there’s a set of heavy wooden doors. I give a subtle hand signal to the team, and we split up, taking positions at strategic points within the room.

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