Lucas had been nothing but good to her. He had saved her. He had given her a home.
And she loved him.
She wasn't some naive fool who would let a bitter, defeated enemy twist her reality.
By the time she finished bandaging the last of the wounded, the soldiers were settling down, laughing weakly, grateful to be alive. Tents were already being raised, and the scent of roasted meat filled the air, signaling that the post-battle feast was well underway.
She wiped her hands on a damp cloth and straightened, scanning the clearing for the one person she wanted to see the most.
Fresh from the hunt, his body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his muscles flexing as he moved. His eyes caught hers almost immediately, and his lips curled into a familiar, knowing smirk.
He stalked toward her, his movements fluid.
Ava smirked, crossing her arms as he approached. "Hey!"
Lucas grinned. "Hey, beautiful."
She blinked. "That's a nice change of pace. Not 'my little virgin' anymore?"
