The mist had settled low over the forest as night claimed the sky, but Ava didn't call for camp right away. They'd just sealed the second fracture, and though their limbs ached and their clothes clung with sweat and blood, something lingered in the air—charged, electric, tense.
She stood a few paces from the totem ruins, her sword tip buried in the dirt, her thoughts distant. Her body buzzed with leftover magic, adrenaline, and something more… something hungrier.
Ash approached first, brushing his wild hair back, blood crusted on his cheek. "We should camp soon. We're too exposed here."
Nicholas appeared beside him, unusually quiet. His pale eyes flicked to Ava, searching her face.
She nodded once, slowly.
"Find us somewhere safe. A grove, an abandoned watchtower, even a ruined inn. I don't care if it's a bed of leaves or broken stone—just find somewhere we can rest."
Sil tilted her head. "You're not coming?"
"I will," Ava said. Her voice was low, threaded with something darker. "But later."
Adam's wings shifted behind him, sensing the change in her tone. He met her eyes, but said nothing.
Nicholas glanced toward Ash, then back to Ava. His expression darkened with understanding. "We'll scout," he said simply.
With a nod, they melted into the trees, beast trailing behind, silent and alert. Sil lingered, but Adam gently took her arm and guided her after the others. He, too, understood without needing to be told.
Ava waited alone.
She bathed in silence, breathing in the faintly corrupted air and letting her heartbeat settle. When the crackle of leaves returned an hour later, she looked up to find Nicholas and Ash approaching.
"We found something," Nicholas said. "A ruined outpost, west ridge. Has a hearth and two standing walls."
Ash added, "It's dry. Secluded. Usable."
"Good," Ava murmured. "Then the rest of you—go. Leave us."
Ash blinked. "Us?"
Ava met his eyes, sharp and knowing. "You. Me. Nicholas."
Nicholas stilled. "Are you sure?"
"I'm cold," Ava said simply. "And tired. And alive. And that means I want warmth. Not just any warmth." She stepped forward, close enough that her presence pressed against them like velvet and shadow. "Yours."
Ash let out a low breath, caught between surprise and something far deeper.
Nicholas's mouth parted. "Ava…"
"No more names," she whispered. "Not tonight."
---
The ruined outpost was nothing more than two crumbled walls and the remains of an old forge, long dead. A single stone archway had survived the years, curling vines threading through its base like veins. It wasn't much, but Ava didn't need much.
The fire they built was small, crackling in the center of the broken forge. Ash peeled off his bloodstained tunic, exposing the golden tattoos coiled across his torso, symbols of an oathbound mercenary. Nicholas stripped down more slowly, his body lean, marked with old wounds and ritual scars—every one of them a story.
Ava removed her coat last, letting it fall to the stone with a heavy thud. She wore nothing beneath it.
Ash stared openly, his breath catching. Nicholas turned away for a moment, as if trying to restrain himself, then gave up and looked back with something raw in his eyes.
Ava crossed the space between them like a storm. She touched Ash first, pressing her hand flat against his chest, feeling his heart thudding under her palm.
"Come here," she said.
He came willingly, wrapping his arms around her, lips brushing her temple. His body radiated heat—warrior heat, edged with control. She kissed him, slow at first, then deeper, mouth claiming his, teeth grazing his lower lip until he growled softly into her mouth.
Nicholas came up behind her.
He didn't speak. He simply slid his hands around her waist, fingers splaying against her stomach, his body curved against her back. She leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder as Ash kissed down her collarbone.
"Both of you," she whispered, "touch me."
And they did.
Ash's mouth moved lower, teeth nipping her skin while his hands slid along her hips. Nicholas trailed kisses down her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, tugging gently. Their warmth surrounded her, consumed her.
They sank down onto the furs they'd laid over the stone floor—Ava between them, firelight flickering across bare skin. There was no rush. No shame. No pretense. Just the thrum of desire and the silent understanding between three bodies aching for closeness.
Ash kissed her like a firebrand, like a man used to taking and being taken. Nicholas worshipped her like a prayer—slow, reverent, with whispered praises between each breath.
She gave herself to both—let them explore, let them claim, let them feel her strength beneath their hands and mouths. When her fingers tangled in Ash's hair, he groaned her name into her throat. When she pulled Nicholas closer, he buried his face against her chest, his voice hoarse with need.
They tangled together until breath became moans and firelight blurred against sweat-slick skin. Ava gave commands and pleasure in equal measure—dominant, loving, raw.
When at last they lay still, her body pressed between theirs, the fire had died to embers.
Ash rested a hand on her thigh, his chest rising and falling slowly. Nicholas curled close against her back, fingers laced with hers.
Ava sighed.
"This," she said softly, "was needed."
Nicholas kissed her shoulder. "Yes."
Ash murmured, "We should do it more often."
She chuckled lightly. "Survive a few more fractured leylines, and maybe I'll consider it."
The three of them dozed like that—warmed by fire, flesh, and something unspoken but understood. There would be danger tomorrow. The third fracture waited in the dark.
But tonight?
Tonight was theirs.