[POV: Solenne]
The blood was gone, washed away with the ash, sweat, and centuries-old weight of rot and dirt that had clung to them both like second skin.
The water in the basin had turned black and still. The room smelled faintly of sandalwood and steam, now clean, warm, safe.
Solenne rose from the floor and fetched one of the long-handled combs from the cabinet. She returned and settled behind Ruvan, who remained seated on the stool, towel draped around his waist, drying slowly by the fire.
She hesitated for a moment. 'Am I invading his space too much by doing all of this?'
Solenne bit her lip, unsure if she should continue. She had already washed his back, and he said he wasn't used to being touched. What if it made him uncomfortable?
Then, Ruvan glanced back and saw her standing nervously with the comb. Startling her out of her thoughts, he said, "I don't mind."
Solenne sat cross-legged behind him on the rug, comb in hand. She smiled softly, reached out, and gently drew the comb through his long, damp hair. He didn't flinch, only closed his eyes and let her work.
He just sat there, towel slung around his hips, silver strands trailing down his back like threads of moonlight. The silence between them wasn't cold or strained—it felt… warm and pleasant.
She gently pulled the comb through each section, working slowly, carefully, so she wouldn't tug. Some of the tangles were bad; one of them even had a small twig embedded within the knot!
She smiled faintly. 'Forest king,' she would have teased, if she could.
⸻
[POV: Ruvan]
Every pass of the comb was a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
The voices were quiet. The madness was curled away in some far, dark corner. For once, his mind didn't feel like broken glass shifting inside his skull.
Just warmth and her scent… and gods, her scent.
Now that she was clean, it was… stronger. Or maybe the bond just made it clearer. Whatever the reason, it stimulated his instincts like nothing else. Kairas paced at the back of his mind, pleased and enticed by the smell.
Ruvan inhaled again, greedily.
"Yours smells stronger," he murmured.
She paused behind him. He glanced back and found her watching him curiously. She signed something with one hand, but stopped in the middle, seemingly remembering he couldn't understand.
His brow furrowed as he tried to follow. "Wait. Do that again—slower."
Solenne raised a brow.
"I found a book in one of the vacant rooms a few days ago," Ruvan admitted. "It was about your hand language. In retrospect, I guess it probably belonged to Thalos—but the point is, I learned a few things. Not very much, but a few gestures."
He could tell she was surprised by his effort—hell, he was surprised, too. Why did it matter if he could understand her or not? He had no idea, but his heart led him to learn regardless.
"I understood a little bit of what you said. Can you do it again?" he repeated.
Solenne nodded and repeated it slowly.
He squinted, trying to piece it together. He caught "what" and "me," but not the middle. The way she tilted her head made it feel like a question.
"…Are you asking what you smell like to me?" he guessed.
Her expression softened, and she nodded once.
Ruvan's voice dropped slightly. "Like violets after rain. Ink… something warm. And like…" He hesitated. "…Comfort."
Solenne's breath caught.
He turned away again, letting her resume.
But then, after a moment, he added, his voice quieter: "And me? What do I smell like?"
⸻
[POV: Solenne]
Solenne closed her eyes for a breath and deliberated on his scent. He was right, after washing themselves, his thick aura was much stronger.
She didn't try to answer with signs, she knew he wouldn't follow—but she was beyond impressed, and touched, that he had started to learn on his own.
So instead of gesturing, she shifted forward and leaned around him, gently taking his hand again. Ruvan stiffened for just a second, then let her guide it.
She turned his palm up and slowly began tracing letters with her fingertip.
S… T… O… R… M.
She waited. Watched his lips move as he repeated the letters aloud.
"Storm," he echoed.
She nodded. Then slowly, she wrote again.
F… I… R… E.
"Fire," he murmured, eyes dropping to her hand. He seemed almost entranced by her touch.
Solenne paused. It was complicated to describe because it was more than just a scent profile.
It was a feeling.
A feeling that she was unfamiliar with, and even scared of… but it was undeniable.
Then, one more time, she grazed her finger over his skin.
M… I… N… E.
⸻
[POV: Ruvan]
He was certain he had misunderstood what she wrote.
Mine.
Mine.
His throat tightened. There was no way she would say something so bold, right?
"Say that again," he whispered.
She looked at him shyly… but didn't write it again. Instead, she reached up and tucked a damp strand of his hair behind his ear. Her hand lingered a little too long. He could hear her pulse beat beneath her skin, quick and certain.
And gods help him, he didn't deserve it—but he leaned into her touch anyway.
"Solenne…" he muttered.
Ruvan's mind trembled with uncertainty. He knew their bond was fated, Kairas had insinuated as much… but he was torn. Torn, because it was cruel to her. For a girl who had hardly lived to be bound to someone like him.
Someone so completely and utterly mad.
He could feel an obsession, an addiction, making its foundations in his bones. She soothed his madness, warmed his heart, and even desired him back in some capacity.
He wasn't sound enough of mind to guarantee he wouldn't do something foolish or frightening in the name of possessing her.
He wanted her, needed her. If she were ever gone…
'No,' he willed himself internally. 'I mustn't…'
Then, due to his emotional instability or something else, one of the voices managed to slip through the cracks. 'Musn't you?' it asked.
'I mustn't! I killed the fake ones, I do not want to hurt the real one…' he argued with himself.
'Just take her if you want her.'
'No!' Ruvan fought.
'Why not? You're practically a god, and you are a King. Take what you want.'
'Get out of my head.'
'You say that like I'm not part of you.'
He hissed internally, 'You're not.'
'Perhaps you could kill her and get rid of your longing altogether?' Came another voice.
'GO. AWAY!'
The sensation of serenity washed over him when Solenne pressed her cool hand to his cheek as if sensing his struggle. The voices faded into the recesses of his mind again, and Ruvan stared into the woman's light eyes.
She spared him from the insanity again. She was his savior, his light in the darkness.
He wanted her… but he shouldn't have her.
"I'm too dangerous…" he said, his voice betraying his sadness. "You can't… You can't say things like that. I might kill you."
She didn't run or flinch; she didn't seem concerned at all.
⸻
[POV: Solenne]
Solenne could see it all in his eyes. She saw the exact moment he dissociated, and his inner turmoil overtook him. His typically sharp, golden gaze became unfocused and glossy, and a crease formed between his brows.
Yet, when she touched him, his tension melted away instantly… and he looked at her.
Oh, how he looked at her.
She felt her heart stop.
When Ruvan gazed up at her, she felt like she was the only person in the world besides him. He stared at her, studied her face like it were sacred, admired her like the rarest of flowers, somehow blooming in the winter.
"I'm too dangerous…" he said, his voice betraying his sadness. "You can't… You can't say things like that. I might kill you."
She knew he was right; she could sense the unpredictable danger from him, but simultaneously, she felt an inexplicable safety and comfort at his side.
Besides, being killed by a man who could look at her so reverently didn't seem like the worst way to go.
'You are my gift from the Moon Goddess,' she thought to herself. 'Insane and murderous, old and tormented… but you are mine. And you are all that I have.'
Solenne longed to tell him those words, because they were true.
He was all she had.
Even if she had escaped the sacrifice, or gotten away... there was nothing for her to go back to. No loved ones, no pets. All there would be for her was a dilapidated cottage, barely livable.
As she looked through Ruvan's eyes and into his fractured mind, she hated herself in that moment, hated her magical ability, more than anything in the world.
She wanted nothing more than to comfort this sad, lonely man—her sad, lonely man.
So, where words failed, she decided to use her actions.
Ruvan's eyes widened when Solenne placed the comb down and leaned toward him. She mouthed the word 'mine,' then wrapped one arm around his neck and used the other to press his head into her nape… on the mark.
She felt it awaken at the contact, a warm tingle running down her spine.
"You can't take it back," he warned. His voice held no softness this time.
Solenne nodded and ran her hand through his long, damp hair, gently stroking his head.
She had given herself to the beast… and she was okay with it.