I wake up too slowly.
That kind of waking where your brain's fogged, your body's warm, and there's a weird weight across your middle. Something solid. Heavy. Comforting.
Something breathing.
Wait.
Wait.
My eyes shoot open.
There's a hand on my waist.
And a whole-ass arm. Scarred. Draped over me like I'm someone's long-lost lover.
I freeze.
My back is flush against someone's chest. My legs are tangled with a second pair. Long, bare, and definitely male. I can feel the rise and fall of steady breathing behind me. Feel the distinct shape of a knee nudged between mine, like we'd spent the night trying to become a single organism.
The fuck??
The Commander.
The. Freaking. Commander.
And he's asleep.
[SYSTEM 707: Warning. You are being SPOONED by a potential war criminal. Continue?]
[SYSTEM 707: …Romantic music loading.]
What the hell?!
My heart starts doing this ridiculous thing. Stuttering (don't ask), fluttering, flipping. My brain's screaming something about boundaries and inappropriate contact, but my body?
My body says: "Let's stay here. Just five more minutes. Maybe ten. Maybe forever."
His breath hits the nape of my neck, slow and warm.
I shiver. Involuntarily.
He shifts in his sleep, arm tightening around my waist. His fingertips graze under the hem of the thin undershirt he gave me. Just barely brushing skin.
It's a spark. A firecracker in the dark.
Shit.
He murmurs something.
Too soft.
Too low.
But I catch it.
My name.
My actual name.
Not the fake one I gave. Not the alias. But my real, buried, system-snatched name, the one I haven't heard of since I died.
My stomach drops.
My skin prickles.
My entire system lights up like a danger alarm mixed with a betrayal kink.
[SYSTEM 707: …Host. That name is not registered in this world's data.]
[System Alert: Anomaly Detected. Soul Thread Leak Possible.]
I don't breathe.
He exhales slowly, burying his face slightly behind my neck. His lips brush against the shell of my ear in the motion, sending my sanity flying into space without a return ticket.
What the hell does he know?
How the hell does he know it?
I slowly start shifting. Inch by inch. Trying not to wake the nuclear bomb of a man wrapped around me like a heat-seeking blanket.
Almost there---
"...Trying to escape again?"
His voice.
Low. Husky. Still dipped in sleep but sharp enough to slice through my panic like a blade through silk.
I jump.
"You were awake?!" I hiss, turning slightly to look over my shoulder.
One eye open. Barely. Amused. Unfairly handsome.
He's got morning voice alright.
I hate him.
"You breathe differently when you're about to run," he says simply, voice like rough velvet. "It's cute."
CUTE?!
"You're in my bed!" I whisper-shout. "Why are you here?!"
"I came in late. Cold outside. Warm inside. Logical choice."
"This is a cot! It's like two feet wide!"
"You weren't using the other half."
I groan, burying my face into the pillow just to scream silently. This man. This smug, warm, rule-breaking man is going to ruin me across multiple timelines.
[SYSTEM 707: Would you like to enable the "Accidental Intimacy" plot arc? It's already happening anyway.]
"I hate you," I mumble to the pillow.
"You're blushing."
"I'm overheating because you're a six-foot personal furnace."
"Mm," he hums. "You smell nice when you're annoyed."
I swear to every god—
He moves to sit up and the weight of him shifts. Just enough for me to feel the full contact we've been in this entire time. My face is now illegal levels of red.
He smirks.
I throw a pillow at his head.
He catches it with one hand and says, deadpan, "You're still not escaping, by the way."
I snarl.
He stands and stretches, shirt riding up, exposing the kind of back that has no right to exist in a war zone. Or ever.
And then he glances over his shoulder.
"Get dressed. You're coming with me today."
"Where?"
"To meet the Queen."
Wait. What?
I sit up. "Why the hell would she want to see me?"
"Because," he says, tone unreadable. "You're about to become very important to her plans."
"And what plans are those?" I ask cautiously.
He pauses at the tent flap. Doesn't turn around.
Then said,
"The kind where people like you don't usually survive."
...
...
".... huh??"