[astro] From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire. [18+]

The space of silence between them grew and grew. Pressure asserted itself against her chest, until the bubble pushing them apart burst with the gentle brush of his finger against her sweater and the weight of his hand against her shoulder. She slipped so easily against his side and the curl of his fingers fit the spot where her shoulders rounded. Madison did not even tense, not for even a moment. She sighed into him, her head finding the comfort of his chest beneath her cheek.  Warm slipped through her like the liquor had, lighting every extremity extending to the depths of her soul. This. This was home. He thanked her and her throat constricted. She said nothing at first, mind racing along a thousand different tracks.

He had brought up her parents, her old life. Madison had not thought about that life with any fondness since she had left over three years ago. Cold steel had slipped into her bones, replacing all the laughter and warmth. The only thing she remembered was the stickiness of their blood, the lifelessness of their eyes. Yet, when he asked, the hurt eased. It always burned. It was eternal. But that bright angry fire inside of her that drove everything she did, did not roar so loudly in this soft moment. “Yes.” She choked out, voice catching on the murmured word.

“Very much like this. There were always...difficult moments. Food would be scarce, the nights too cold for even our thickest blankets.” Madison shifted closer towards him, as if trying to hide herself from the happiness the memories brought. “But there was always someone to confide in and someone to ease the hurt. There was learning and laughter.” She didn’t even feel the tears as they welled in her eyes. “My mama was a remarkable seamstress. She made my bear coat and she rarely scolded me for all the clothes I ripped by growing taller. She’d plait my hair and sing as she did it. Never loudly, as if it was too much of a luxury, y’know...but she’d sing me to sleep sometimes too.” The tears slipped against her cheeks, seeping into his sweater and still she did not feel them, so lost in her own memories. “My dad was a man of many words, versus my mama. His laughter was so...jarring. You could feel it inside.” As she said the last word, she traced her finger across a few of his ribs. The tears stopped falling but the damp skin beneath her eyes remained. The Gallow girl did not recall the last time she had cried.

“It was so comfortable. You didn’t have to speak. I knew them and they knew me in a way that I haven’t felt...” until you. Swallowing, she pushed herself upright, maintaining their proximity. Blue eyes met his and she searched them for a moment. The firelight flickered from below and made her cheeks glisten. The feeling that was blossoming in her core quelled the anger, frightening and exciting her.  “Remy, I...” What was there to say? 

But that was just it, she didn’t have to say anything.

Madison dipped her head and caught his mouth with hers. The huntress was not shy but this made her movement slightly hesitant. It was a salty taste, due to the remnants of her tears but she didn’t mind. Her hand moved up from his chest to barely brush against his jawline. She deepened the kiss, her fingers moving more boldly into his hair. Heat rushed through her just as the faintest of sounds tickled the back of her mind. 

An infrequent hiss and then another and then a louder yap from the dogs.  Another hiss and puppy paws scampering about the floor. Madison wanted so badly to ignore the sound, to focus on the feel on him but alarm bells sounded.

“The soup!” She breathed, angrily and then realized what she had done. She flew away from him as though electrocuted, face immediately blushed and she descended the ladder faster than she thought she could. She grabbed a rag and lifted the iron pot off the hanger above the fire. It had boiled over. The fucking soup had boiled over. Keeping her back to the ladder, she brushed her fingers across her lips before tucking her hair behind her ear. Fuck.

The raw emotion in her voice startled him, and he tightened his arm around her shoulders in response. Madison certainly didn’t need his protection, but he wished there was some way to shield her from this. For all his physician training, Remy hated that there was nothing he could do for this kind of hurt. So he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, willing his presence, if nothing else, to be of some comfort to her as the memories came flooding back.

He listened as she described her old life, how the hardship and struggle had been balanced by the unabashed adoration of her parents. A deep ache swelled in his chest. Madison might not have grown up with three prepared meals a day or a wardrobe full of silks and fur, but she had been lucky in ways he could not imagine. To have known such love, only to have it ripped away with a stream of blood in its wake, was so profoundly unjust that Remy had to fight away his own tears of rage. He would have slid his knife across his father’s throat himself in that moment…and enjoyed watching the madman exsanguinate on the dusty floor.

It was then that Madison shifted, and the image of the dead commander dissipated like hot steam. Her tear-stained face hovered just inches from his own, blue eyes rimmed red with grief. “Madison, I can’t imagine…” Remy began, hoarse. “I…” He reached up to cradle the side of her face, tenderly wiping away a glistening tear with his thumb. The gentle pressure of her hand against his chest sent warmth blossoming through his torso, and for a moment, he wondered if she could feel the furious pulse of his heart against his palm. There was so much to say, and yet words seemed so inadequate…

The ragged sound of his name on her lips sent a thrill down his spine that turned positively electric as she pressed her mouth to his. All the sorrow, all the emotion, all the fear and the anger and the gratitude—it was all there in her saline kiss, communicating more than their voices ever could. His hand caressed her silken hair and found the warm skin of her neck. He pulled her tighter to him, a ferocious fire racing through his veins.

He heard the hissing sound just when she did, although Madison recognized it first—and all at once, she had sprung away from him in a panic, their reverie sharply severed. Alarmed, he jumped up after her, skipping the last several rungs of the ladder and landing deftly on stockinged feet. The pups yipped excitedly at the rush of activity, sniffing at the spilled stew at the hearth.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to touch his companion’s arm. He peered into the pot, his heart still racing from both the thrill of their shared moment in the loft and its sudden interruption. “It’s fine, it’s fine…look. There’s still plenty left for dinner.” He cleared his throat and sought her gaze. “I guess this means it’s ready?” he said in an effort to get her to smile, cracking a startled but lopsided grin of his own.

He retrieved a metal ladle and two bowls from the box of dishes they’d discovered earlier. “Here,” he said, offering her a helping. “We can check the snares in the morning. We might be able to prep some meat before we take off, depending on what we find. We can, um…” He blushed despite himself, thankful that the orange flow of the fire would mask the flushing in his cheeks. “We can get to bed early.”

Standing nearly dumbstruck with the iron pot before here, Madison could still feel the warmth of his hand when he brushed away her tear. It lay like a ghost against her skin, a pleasant shield against the front line of her pain. She heard the thunk of his feet hitting the floor behind her and the skittering of the pups as they began to demand their own food. Their excitement at the emergence of their owners was compounded by the pleasure at findings delicious puddles of broth rained down around on the floor.

Madison drew her arm up and brushed at her damp face with the sleeve of her sweater before using the palm of her hand to swipe away any remnants. Turning to him, her heart began to race anew at the desire in his eyes. It was not the same desire she had felt in his kiss. It was not the fervent need to be close, to consume the other body and soul. This desire was one of comfort and an attempt to ease her disquiet. Remy’s goal was achieved and one corner of her mouth turned upward and she shoved him so lightly that it was more of a caress than a push.

Angry wind howled beyond the entrance of the cabin, as if to caution them against leaving in the morning. It whipped around the house, coiling and wrapping tighter and tighter like a snake. The warning fell on deaf ears as Madison took the proffered bowl. The warmth of the bowl filled her hands as she settled down on the blankets before the fire. Before she could even bring it up to her lips, Daemon whined and stamped his feet. A sigh escaped her before she reached into her pack that rested a safe distance from the sparks of the fire. She drew out their rations and portioned it for the hounds and they eagerly set to devouring their feast.

Bashful eyes peered at him above her bowl when she took a long, slow sip. It was thicker than she was used to and so she savored it more fully. The view didn’t hurt either. The thought slipped upon her so unbidden that she choked and coughed a few times. Holding a hand out slightly to let him know she was okay, Madison felt a blush rise on her own cheeks. “Went down wrong, that’s all.” She said, finally managed to speak without coughing. “I’ll check them early, just before sunrise and that way we should be set to leave before midday. I think we’ll make good time towards the capital.”  She wanted to ask what he initially thought to say, as the clear hesitation in his words lingered between them.  A newfound timidness crept into the throat and she kept quiet.

What was he doing to her? This simple roadwalking physician was reducing her to a nervous ball of energy. He left her thinking of his smile and the way his hair fell against his forehead. The mere idea of his fingers against her bare skin set her gooseflesh to erupting. She found tasks as simple as soup-making to be more difficult and her mind easily distracted. It was like a virus that she could not purge from her system. He was going to render her useless. The idea of him without his shirt thrilled and frightened her and not because of the tattoo he kept hidden on his left shoulder blade. The mark of the militia. The sigil of the Commander’s house. The ink that identified him as the heir.

“Would you…” She slowly turned her bowl in her hands, watching the final morsels swirl in the bottom. “Would you teach me how to read?” Madison inquired. She would not look away now. Her blue gaze searched his face. “We could take some of the books up to the bed. The loft. I mean the loft.” She quickly corrected, turning down to look at the last bit of soup and she brought it to her lips.

At the sight of her tenuous smile, an inexplicable relief cooled the concern that had lodged itself in his throat. For a moment, seeing the alarm in her flushed face, he’d wondered if it had been he who was the true reason for her distress. But the sudden shyness he felt was mirrored in Madison’s eyes, and as fervently as he longed to meet her azure gaze, he found he was almost afraid to—afraid of what it meant, afraid of what it made him feel.

His stomach was in knots that had nothing to do with illness or hunger, but he forced himself to eat, knowing he needed as much nourishment as possible for the upcoming journey. He stirred the hearty contents of his bowl with a little too much interest, sneaking a glance up to his companion when he dared. It was difficult to look away from her in the shifting firelight. Her long braid was draped elegantly over her shoulder, with shorter strands having escaped to frame her face. With the lingering memory of her salty, insistent kiss, it was too easy to imagine running his fingers through the long locks, free of their loose plait…too easy to think about bringing his lips to the velvet-soft skin of her neck…

He snapped back to reality as she coughed, and he looked up in alarm. He swallowed his own mouthful of stew and nodded. “If we can get a good distance in before nightfall tomorrow, we should be in good shape,” he agreed. Yet another aptly-timed howl of wind fell on deaf, distracted ears. “The lower we get, the better our chances of avoiding another storm.”

It felt strange to speak so matter-of-factly after their shared emotions in the loft, but he also found it difficult to say anything else. She had gotten under his skin in a way that made it impossible to think of anything else. When he imagined the arduous trek ahead of them, all he could think about was how to keep Madison safe. And even now, as much as he feigned distraction, his attention was hers and hers alone.

He looked up a little too quickly when she spoke again. Their eyes locked, and he felt his cheeks go hot once again. “Teach you to read?” he repeated softly, unable to quell an affectionate smile. “I would love to.” And not just because it’s an excuse to be close to you. He cleared his throat bashfully, as though she might have heard the thought.

After one last spoonful, he placed his empty bowl on the floor for the pups and rose to his feet. He extended a hand to Madison and tugged her to her feet, a little harder than was necessary, and caught her in his arms with a playful squeeze. “Any of these books catch your eye?” he asked, gesturing to the stack they’d left on top of a large plastic bin. He stepped to the ladder and climbed while she made her selection.

A dusty oil lamp with a brittle wick sat on the nightstand, and he attempted to light it with a box of frangible matches found in the drawer beneath. To his delight, it flared to steady life as though not a day had passed since its last use. Satisfied, he sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Madison. He smiled softly when she appeared in the opening, bathed now in the steady golden glow of the oil lamp. “This will make it easier to see,” he said, painfully aware of how nervous his voice sounded. “You can read some words, yeah? Come here and tell me what you know.”

The question in his voice made her bite her lip. Nerves tightened the knot in the stomach. Perhaps it was a foolish request. He wasn’t a teacher. It was not his job to educate her but he acquiesced delightedly. Madison could not suppress the childish grin that rose to her lips. The dogs eagerly lapped the remaining droplets that slid down the side of his bowl to well back up at the bottom. They yipped and snapped playfully at each other and the bowl turned upside down. It became the new object of their attention, batting it around across the floor like an ancient hockey puck on ice.

Placing her hand in his, she felt the air rush against her cheeks as he pulled her towards him. Their bodies pressed against each other and she would be lying if she did not thrill at the squeeze he gave her. The beating of her heart increased and she was certain that he could feel it. The inquiry about the books fell on relatively deaf ears. Azure gaze did not even stray at his hand gesture. She kept her eyes on him and her chest against his until he drew back. Hungry gaze followed his retreat up to the loft, watching the agile way he moved. Damn…

Damien and Magnolia collided into the back of her leg and she shook her head, the now ever-present blush on her cheeks deepening. “Alright you two. Outside.” She whistled low and opened the door to a mighty burst of wind. She steadied her arm out straight, fighting against it as the dogs quickly ran outside. Damien was back in a flash but Magnolia took her time completing her business before bounding back in. Madison dried the snow off their paws and settled them before the fire. The large pile of books loomed menacingly behind her now. She ran her hands over them. Some were hardbacked and some had warped from time with their paper covers. The smell was oddly pleasant and she inhaled deeply as she raised one of the thinner ones to her nose. This one felt right. The cover was hard and the fabric that covered it was slightly torn but a golden sigil embossed the front. It was inset and beautiful.

Ascending the ladder, Madison saw the flicker of the oil wicked lamp and the light reflected on his face. God he was beautiful. It took her breath away to see him sitting there patiently waiting to instruct her. She smiled timidly at him before setting herself firmly into the loft. This was something she had always wanted. The ability to be able to read decreased in the population with each passing year but she did not want to be just another illiterate member of the Commander’s masses. The militia expected peasants, women especially, to be docile, ignorant and quiet. She would be none of those.

The tremor in his voice echoed the one in her hands. The spine read The Cruel Prince. She held it reverently and moved over to Remy on the mattress. Her back pressed itself against the wall at the head of the mattress and her side pressed lightly against his. The book exchanged hands and she chewed on her lip as she spun her ring back and forth, back and forth with her pointer finger and thumb. “Simple ones. That’s the.” She pointed to the first word on the spine. “The rest…” She sighed, wringing her hands slightly with anxiety. It was obvious the wheels in her mind were turning as she tried to sound the words out without making a noise. She made a frustrated noise. “Something… something p-pprince.” She forced the word out. She opened to the title page and flipped until the first real words. Their fingers brushed.

“Pro…pro..” An exasperated noise left her lips as she was unable to figure out the latter half of the word prologue. The difficult in focus was compounded by the heat of his body warming her side. Madison could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck and all she could think about was how his mouth would form the words on the pages. How would his mouth feel saying words against her mouth, against her skin? What would the vibrations of her name feel like coming from his mouth against the curve of her neck?

Heat flared around her and she shifted slightly, trying to catch the breath she didn’t know she had lost. “I…” She swallowed, a lump lodging itself in her throat. A nervous laughter escaped from her lips as she continued. “It is difficult to focus on it right now.” She said it before thinking about it and bit hard on her lower lip as if she could take them back before he heard them. “I mean it’s just…” Fuck. “It’s just…..um..” When did I become such a bumbling idiot? Madison licked her lips. “Perhaps we can just take it one word at a time. I can repeat it and tell me if its right and then test me ahead? Is that a stupid request? I’m not sure…” She turned her attention to the book again, trying with all the might she could muster to focus on the words on the page before her.

The air in the cabin chilled slightly with the exit and entrance of the pups. The last sigh of an icy wind brushed his face as he waited in the loft, a stark thermal contrast to the anxious flush that still lingered on his cheeks. He slid over when Madison approached, taking the book from her grasp as she positioned herself next to him against the wall at the head of the bed.

“I’m not the greatest teacher,” Remy confessed lightheartedly, “but I’ll do my best.” He ran his fingertips over the debossed hardcover, almost grateful they weren’t sitting opposite one another—for surely, she would be able to read the feelings in his eyes, see the way his eyes would stray upward from the page. But the thrill he felt when she brushed against his side was undeniable, and he had to bite his lower lip to suppress the grin that threatened to appear there.

He listened patiently, distracted though he was by her presence, as she struggled to interpret the words on the cover. “You don’t have to sound it out in your head,” he encouraged. “You can do it out loud. It helps. That’s how I learned.” He didn’t withdraw his hand as their fingers brushed; he let them linger against her skin before tracing the toothy texture of the paper. He imagined again the firm pressure of her touch on his chest, and how her deft fingers had felt combing through his freshly-trimmed hair.

He cleared his throat nervously. “Prologue,” he finished for her when she stopped. He leaned closer to her, his chin hovering just over her shoulder, and pointed to the black letters. “But see, even when you sound things out, sometimes the letters don’t sound the way you think they’re going to. You don’t say the ‘ue’ here at all. It ends on the ‘g’. It’s kind of fucked up.” He moved his finger to the first line of the prologue, then paused. “Maybe we should start with all the ways vowels can be pronounced. I think that might help.”

An exhale escaped him, an attempt to soothe the butterflies that had taken flight in his stomach. “No wonder you can’t focus. Neither can I,” Remy continued quietly, his mouth nearly at her ear. “It’s, ah…it’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” That was, of course, not at all the reason neither of them could keep their thoughts straight—and the proximity of his face to hers, his mouth to hers, was simply not making it any easier to concentrate.

“I have an idea that might help,” he said. “Do you know what a mnemonic device is? It’s something—like a trick—you use to remember something else. I’ll demonstrate.”

A light tremble shook his fingertips as he reached up to touch her chin. Gently, he turned her head toward him. Their faces were just inches apart, and he could feel her heated breath against his skin. “Now, the vowels,” he whispered, stormy blue eyes half-lidded as he locked them with her bright azure gaze. “Let’s start with A.” Softly, but without hesitation, he pressed his lips to hers in a featherlight kiss. “Now E,” he breathed, pulling away only far enough to pronounce the sound. He kissed her again, this time a little more deeply. “And I.” Another kiss, deeper. “O,” he continued hungrily, “and U…you...”

He pulled away with incredible reluctance, just far enough to look into her eyes again. “Now, Madison,” he murmured, a suggestive smile curving his lips. He traced the skin along her jaw with a curved finger. “Can you repeat them back to me?”

Madison’s brow tightened at the lack of pronunciation of the final two letters. “That’s accurate.” She snorted, irritated at the ridiculousness of useless letters in a word. “What is the point of them then?” Exasperated, the student exhaled and allowed her frustration to play on her face until she felt his lips move right by her ear. Where there had just been heat along her neck, now there was a shiver that traveled down the length of her spine. Concentration blown once again.

Perhaps choosing him as her instructor was a terrible idea.

 The feel of his finger against her chin made her tremble with a heady anticipation. She turned towards him at his silent request. Her body moved of its own volition, compelled by a part of herself not controlled by logic. “A mnemonic?” She questioned with a shaky voice, thick with emotion. Apprehensive eyes scanned his face, searching and hoping. “Vowels?” She parroted again, licking her lips. She barely heard the first when she felt his mouth on hers. It was brief and soft. She inhaled sharply as he pulled away. And another. Then another. How did he expect her to remember anything when he tasted like that? Just as the hunger clawed its way up,  her hands reach out to the one that propped him up. Her delicate touch slid from the tip of his middle finger up the back of his palm.

The movement ceased when she opened her eyes and met his turbulent gaze. A ragged exhale slipped from her slightly swollen lips. That smile taunted her and she felt her heart constrict, grabbed by and invisible hand. Ass. The thought crossed her mind and she smirked in response. He might render her into a puddle but she would be Northam’s most resilient emotional puddle. She swallowed, hard, momentarily collecting her thoughts.

“Yes, professor.” Her voice a silken purr against his mouth. She pushed the book from his lap and straddled his legs, resting gently against him. Madison never drew her eyes away from his and kept her lips a hair’s breadth from his own. “A.” She kissed him, briefly, teasingly. Fuck, what was next? He had been so distracting. “E.” She used one hand to slightly lift his chin. She placed her mouth to the line of his jaw. “I.” She traveled down his neck. “O.” Her voice grew husky but she kept her lips light despite her own desire. “And U.” She pressed her mouth against the hollow of his throat. And then, she worked her way backwards from U to A, and followed the trail she had left initially. Upon a soft “A”, she grabbed his mouth eagerly. A hand wrapped into his hair, the shorter strands slipped through some fingers.

His pupil drew back, putting more distance between them but remaining on top of him. She licked her lips and composed her face. She cocked her head a fraction to one side and smiled as innocently as she could manage. “How was that?” She waited, clearly pleased with herself. Blue eyes darted over to the discarded book and she brought it to the space between them, making certain that they were no more than the book length apart. She opened back up to the page they had left off. “Prologue.” She repeated easily.

“What’s next?” She brought her gaze back up to his and gave him an extremely suggestive look. “Because I do find your teaching tools to be particularly suited to my style of learning.” She looked back down at the text that was facing her. She flipped through the pages, making a rush of air wisp against their red faces. “Perhaps.” She bit her lip. The evocative look in her eyes returned when she captured his gaze. “Perhaps we can come up with some sort of reward system for making progress…” She snuck a kiss, retreated after. “For each correct word…” she kissed below his ear but left her lips there as she spoke, “for each sentence,” she left a trail of kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin here and there. Madison removed the book once more. “And then for a paragraph…” She moved quickly, years of needing to be agile paying off. Her hands tangled into his hair, tilted his head back as she leaned up against him, rising from her sitting position, and pressed her mouth down to his. It moved hungrily against his, seeking and aching. Madison thrilled at how he made her feel. Something blossomed in her chest. There was desire. There was want. But there was something else. Remy understood her, he knew her. She needed him and the realization made her tremble against him.

After weeks traveling in the dangerous cold, the two weary travelers now found themselves in the throes of a blistering inferno neither had seen coming. The dusty book fell, forgotten, to the side of the bed. The flames that blazed within their bodies burned with passionate heat, permeating the still cabin air with incendiary desire.

The electric path of Madison’s featherlight touch paradoxically sent cool shivers down his spine, which only made his desire feel hotter by comparison. He craved the feel of her hands on his skin, and to feel her skin beneath his own fingers.

His breaths came ragged with surprise as she threw her knee over his lap. Emboldened by the young woman’s brazen gesture, he wrapped his strong arms around her back and pulled her in tight until their torsos met.

“That was,” he drawled, “very well done.” The words barely escaped between ravenous kisses. Her lips were like a drug that left him craving—needing—more. “I guess we could come to some kind of…arrangement.” His mouth donned a wicked smile that quickly gave way to a hum of pleasure as she planted wanton kisses along his jaw. “I’m glad you’re finding these lessons…stimulating,” he breathed, voice husky. Too hopelessly lost in the moment to acknowledge the book she’d opened once more, he kept his blue-gray eyes trained on her face. Her gaze, even as she distractedly skimmed the pages, gleamed with mischief; her skin glowed radiant in the golden light of the oil lamp. Looking away was simply not an option.

And all at once she was up on her knees, face hovering above his, her hands entangling his hair on either side of his head. Greedily, he returned her kisses. He ran his palms down her back until they reached the hem of her sweater. His fingers slipped beneath the knitted wool to find the bare skin beneath her winter layers, and he slid his hands up higher, pulling her in closer still.

“And a chapter?” he continued, swollen lips pulling into a lascivious smile. In one fluid movement, he lifted her up and twisted her around so he was the one on top, one arm cradling her back while the other braced against the wall. “I have some ideas.” He brought his lips teasingly close, then pulled away with a smirk.

Shifting his weight to a knee, he reached up and tugged his jumper over his head. His threadbare t-shirt beneath was damp with sweat. The cabin had cooled somewhat as the fire downstairs had dwindled to embers, and the crisp air sent goosebumps across his hot skin. The sensation ignited a deeper need to experience her touch. Reaching out, he tugged at the outer layer of her sweater, brought it over her head, and tossed it aside. No longer encumbered by the bulky collar at her collar bones, he brought his lips to her neck. “Madison,” he whispered against her flesh. His chest ached with something far deeper than simple desire as he spoke her name, and it frightened as much as it thrilled him. Nevertheless, he smiled against her skin. “I think you might be my star pupil…”

The huntress came to life under his praise, encouraged by the rough tenor his voice had taken. His arms wrapped around her and snaked up her back, leaving  an electric trail of goosebumps as air rushed against her heated flesh. The manner in which his throat hummed against her mouth when she charted the coarse of their lecture was all the endorsement she needed, but he proved to be very responsive to her educational efforts. Madison had never, ever, felt so alive. Just as his fingers brushed the worn elastic of the lining of her undershirt, she was beneath him. Her breath caught and she let out a startled, aroused sound.

In a blink, he was in that tattered shirt he had been in the previous day. The very same one that had rendered her mute before the thought to speak even entered her mind. There was no time to consider anything as she took in the way the remnants of the firelight caught the lighter streaks in his hair. The lamplight illuminated the faint glisten of sweat along his collar bones and she tried to swallow but her mouth was a desert.

Without her sweater, her skin prickled with the cold and the sudden hesitation. What if he did not like what he saw? She was too thin from years of travel and inadequate sustenance. The sharp angles of her rib cage were clearly visible beneath the thin fabric of the black tank top that hung from her shoulders. The points of her clavicle sharp and the hollow of her neck formed a well at the base of her neck.

Yet he was undeterred and she closed her eyes at the sound of her name from his mouth, against her skin. As she had imagined it minutes ago (was it only minutes?), she found that her mind could not have concocted the sensation in its wildest fantasies. A low moan escaped her lips and she brought her bottom lip between her teeth to silence herself. Was that a noise she should have made? It sounded so foreign and animalistic to her ears.

“And you my favorite professor.” She moved her hands up his back, exploring beneath the thin fabric that separated his chest and hers. He had small scars littered the landscape of his skin and she could feel his ribs under the delicate pressure of her finger pads. Remy was everything she never thought she might have.  Kindness seeped out of him in waves and he made her less angry, less harsh. In a world bent by a cruel leader, fashion with hatred and oppression, he was a shining light of hope for a world she did not know was every possible. He supported her skills and sought to help in her vulnerable portions of her life, readily agreeing to teach her to read...despite the unusual turn the lesson had taken. And he was devilishly handsome on top of everything else.

“Remy.” She murmured his name, soft and lingering like a caress. “I...” What? What?! Her own mind demanded to know what her very soul had known much longer. Heart hammered against her chest, a battering ram against the confines striving to break free. It wanted him to know. Blue eyes opened and she stared at the ceiling momentarily before closing them again, feeling his hand against her skin and wanting there to be nothing but skin on skin. “I’ve never...” Felt this way about anyone. She felt a burning inferno starting in the center of her being and burning bright into everything she said, everything she did and everything she thought. Madison had watched him over the last weeks, last months as they traveled companionably together towards a goal that she had harbored for over three years. Three years of solitude.  

She was no longer alone.

Slow hands lifted his shirt as she went, pulling it upwards and off. Barely, briefly, her fingers ran over the dark tattoo on his left shoulder and she was none the wiser. She whispered his name as she took in the sight of him, traveling from the waist of his pants upward, taking her time examining each inch painstakingly slow. Her fingers followed the path her eyes left until she slipped one around his neck and into his hair. The other brushing errant strands of hair from his forehead. Stormy eyes met emotional blue ones. “I’ve never...” She began again, this time holding his gaze as she formed the syllables.

“I’ve never felt this way.” Madison pulled him back to her, kissing and tenderly biting at his mouth. “There’s too much and not enough.” She breathed against his neck. “What have you done to me?” She asked, meeting his eyes again as her chest labored to breathe.

It took a lot to rattle him, and with good reason. The general’s son had endured and survived his fair share of unfortunate circumstances, from an abusive childhood to dodging the militias that hunted him to rogue attacks on the road. But somehow none of that compared to the sudden, spirit-quaking realization of the intensity of his affection for Madison.

After months of traveling, battling the world together for their right to survive in it, the trust and the understanding and the companionship had hewn a foundation for feelings he had thought lived only in storybooks. And it wasn’t just desire, although certainly there was that too; it was care unlike anything he had ever known. He had hidden himself away for so long that he did not know how to be seen, yet here Madison was, with a window to his soul so clear it was a wonder she didn’t fall through.

With each kiss, each exploring caress, he offered more and more of himself until the definition between them blurred. He wanted nothing more than to be close to her, closer to her; it was impossible to be close enough. He brought his lips to her collar bone, planting kisses until he reached her neck. “God, Madison,” he breathed against her jaw, “you’re so fucking beautiful…” He pressed his lips to the elegant dip between her clavicles, then dipped lower to place one gingerly between her breasts, her thin black camisole separating his mouth from her flesh.

He wanted to devour her and to be devoured. His kisses descended to her belly, where he delicately inched up the fabric to reveal her taut abdomen. So consumed was he by the heat of her skin that he thought nothing of it when she tugged his own t-shirt over his head, mussing the waves of his hair as she tossed it aside. His skin glistened with sweat in the amber lamplight.

A devilish smile spread across his face as he watched her eyes traverse his bare torso. He paused, holding himself over her, waiting for her blue eyes to return to his face. When they did, he jolted forward, capturing her mouth with his in another impassioned kiss—and the horrifying realization that nothing shielded his damning tattoo from Madison’s observant gaze. His breath caught in his throat with sudden paralyzing fear, and he pulled his lips away to gulp in a breath of air. She hasn’t seen it. She hasn’t seen it. The words echoed in his mind like a frantic mantra.

And yet, despite the danger of discovery, he fought the stark return to reality—and he began to succumb again to Madison’s magnetic inferno. Her hands in his hair pulled him back to her, and for another moment he was utterly lost to her lips—and shuddering with pleasure at her searching, imploring touch. His heart hammered in his chest as she spoke his name. “Madison,” he murmured in return. “Oh, Madison…”

Without missing a beat, he reached over to the oil lamp with one hand and twisted the key that would lower the wick, snuffing the steady light to drench them in plush darkness. Only the perfumed candle still burned on the table, its tiny flame nearly drowned in the residue of its own dyed wax. He sought her eyes, which glittered in the barely-there flicker. An ache swelled beneath his ribs so strong he feared he may burst open.

“I’ve never felt this way either,” he whispered, as though afraid of the confession. He kissed her deeply, then settled into her side and pulled her close against his bare chest. “I think, maybe…” His voice trailed off uncertainly, thick with an emotion he heard mirrored in hers. “I didn’t know I could feel this way. Madison.” He spoke her name again, savoring the syllables on his tongue. “I didn’t know anyone could. I thought it only happened in stories.” He swallowed hard and nuzzled his cheek tenderly against her silken hair. “I know hearts are organs, and that they pump blood and keep us alive and have nothing whatsoever to do with this, but…” A pause. “I think you have mine, Madison. I think you might have my heart.”

A gasp flew from her mouth when his mouth pressed against the fabric of her shirt. Warmth suffused through her, sending a languid heat to her core and down across her hips. “Fuck.” She exhaled, the word coming out as though it was made of ten syllables instead of two. And he thought she was beautiful. He thought her scrawny frame and angular features appealing and only confirmed it by pressing his mouth directly against the skin of her abdomen. The path his made electrified every single nerve ending she had. Her toes curled in her socks and her mind raced. She imagined his mouth everywhere. The mere idea of it send a rush of heat climbing up the individual vertebrae of her spine.

Desire whipped through her, an arrow in the night until all she could contemplate was where his mouth might go next only to find it was better than she imagined. Deft fingers itched to remove his remaining clothing. Bare skin to bare skin. She groaned at the idea and the sound of her name. He slipped out of reach for a moment, less than a moment, but the sudden loss sent a pain exploding across her ribcage. It was as though her heart had temporarily ceased to beat at the loss of him. Remy’s mouth was back to reassure her before he drew her to his side. She tucked her head under his chin, trying to not allow her breathing to sound as labored as it was.

Swollen lips curled upwards at his confession. Part of the smile was from sheer elation. He returned her feelings. God, did he really? Pressing her lips together, Madison suppressed a smile by attempting to bite her bottom lip. Her right hand slid up his bare chest and then down again before she absentmindedly began to trace nonsensical patterns on his skin. “Leave it to a doctor to explain the anatomy of the heart before giving it away.” She pulled back from him and looked over at him. Madison kissed him. The desire was there, the passion was there, the need was there but it was delicate, soft and loving. “I think you’ve always had mine without me even knowing.” She rested her forehead against his, free hand coming to caress his face and run just beneath his bottom lip. “Though I think I should have run the moment I saw you. I should have known trouble followed a roadwalking man – a man who attempted to see if clearly dead bodies were still alive.” She smiled against his mouth, drawing back further but still within the curve of his arm. Her hands remained against his skin, moving of their own volition in a desire to maintain their connection.

Madison swallowed hard and brushed back all the hair that had come undone during their intimacy. “And I cannot seem to decide if you are the best or worst teacher I have ever had.” A sheepish smirk played her lips. Silence enveloped them as they sat there. Finally, she grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the wall and down on the mattress. She did not protest when his body ended up slightly on top of hers. In the darkness she could only really see his eyes. Madison’s head rested against the cloud mattress and her available hand reached to pull a blanket over them. She could stare into his face, kiss his mouth, lay in his arms every day for the rest of her life.

She could stay here with him and never leave.

The realization startled her and she blinked. “Remy. Remy. I...I don’t ever want to lose you.” She shifted them slightly so he lay on his back and she on her side. One of her slender legs draped over his and then slipped between them. “I haven’t been me in a long time, not until you and I…” She felt the sharp pang of emotion at the back of her throat. “Make me a promise?” She asked, knowing it was not something to ask lightly or answer lightly. “Stay with me? For a long as this feels this right, will you stay with me?” There was another question hovering at the back of her mind. Heat rushed against her neck as she even considered it. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth when she thought about asking it.

“And…” She finally managed before he could respond. “This…” she made a gentle motion with her hand to indicate their intimacy.  “Sometime…when you’re ready…” She drew it out. It was painful to hear her own voice. Because I love you and I want to love you, to show you I love you, to make love to you.

“Would you take me to bed?”

As electric as it had been to bask in the light, the abrupt darkness that now cocooned them felt richer somehow. Remy quivered with an energy he couldn’t name as Madison nestled into his side. Heat blossomed beneath her deft fingers as they traced abstract patterns against his chest, and he wished in that moment he could freeze time—to remain there forever in one another’s arms, chests heaving and lips swollen, in the blissful shifting shadows of an endless night.

A poignant warmth radiated from his chest, racing down his limbs and back again like hot shivers. His eyelids fluttered closed as she pressed her forehead to his, and he received her kiss hungrily. “Best teacher or worst, you remember your vowels, don’t you?” he hummed, reaching up to take her hand and bring it to his mouth, which had turned upward in an impish smile. “Just wait…until I teach you all about the chambers and ventricles of the heart.”

The young woman’s eyes glimmered alluringly in the shifting shadows, eliciting a searing flare of desire to rocket down his spine. “I’m glad you didn’t run,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her hair. “Because I don’t know where I would be or who I would be without you.” His breathing deepened, and he brought his mouth to hers. He pulled back just enough to finish his thought. “And I don’t ever want to know.” He watched her amorously through half-lidded eyes and draped a reassuring hand over her forearm as she drew herself back.

Unspoken emotion was palpable in the silence that filled the shadows then. In her arms, he knew what it was like to live, and not just to survive. His inner demons lay silent. His past forgotten. And his future…well, his future was suddenly pierced by a beacon of light. She had become his lighthouse on dark tempestuous seas, guiding him forth with the promise of safety and shelter.

Remy sunk down to his back on the mattress at Madison’s prompt, and she reclined at his side, facing him. He could just make out the outline of her head, the gleam of her gaze. But even in the dimness he could sense the intensity of her raw emotion, and his heart leapt to his throat. Her words exhilarated and terrified him down to his core; she had managed to string together and vocalize precisely the thoughts that had hurtled through his mind since their lips’ first brush, and his limbs began to tremble.

But when he spoke, his voice was unwavering. “Madison Gallow,” he murmured, shifting slightly to face her. His hand cradled the side of her face, thumb caressing her cheek. What she asked was no small oath—and yet he had never felt so certain of anything in his inauspicious life. “I promise myself to you wholly. You have me…” He leaned in, lips hovering just close enough to brush against hers when he spoke. “…you have my protection…” He took her lower lip between his teeth and gently, then released. “…and you will have my body.”

Seized with scorching want, he allowed his body to take command. “And when you have it,” he continued huskily, “I will kiss you here…” He ran his fingertip along her cheek, followed by a barely-there kiss. “And here…” A mirrored kiss on the opposite side. He shifted, entwining his fingers through hers and bringing both arms above her head. He pinned them there, face hovering inches before hers. “And here,” he whispered, closing the distance between their mouths. The kiss was insistent, hungry, with parted lips that begged for more. He relinquished his grasp and moved his hands downward. A single fingertip traced a gossamer path from her neck to her collar bone until his palm softly brushed her breast.

“And here,” he murmured, lips following his hand. Fire blazed in his veins at the feel of her breasts, the sensation of her heaving chest. His fingers, leading the way once more, strayed further; his touch found her abdomen beneath the camisole, tracing the ribs beneath her taut skin. He lowered his mouth to her ear, whispering now. “Then I will slip off your clothing,” he went on throatily, playing suggestively with the hem of the black fabric, “one piece at a time. Until nothing separates us…”

Again, his fingers continued their descent, teasing beneath the waistband at her hips. He brought his head down again and pressed his mouth to her sharp hipbones, once on each side. “And I will savor you,” he hummed, looking up from his position to meet her gleaming eyes in the darkness. His hand moved again, settling firmly upon her inner thigh. “I will savor all of you.”

He held her gaze for a beat longer, then returned to her lips. “Now promise me, Madison,” he breathed, a hint of fear lacing his tone, “promise me you won’t leave this Roadwalker. Promise me you’ll be mine.”

“Oh,” she breathed out, “I think anatomy lessons will be my favorite subject taught by my favorite professor.” But his eyes met hers and the teasing smile slipped from her lips. Her name from his mouth captivated her attention, as she tilted her head into his hand. Each word would be etched into her very being and she would remember them until she drew in her final breath. She could not contain the whimper that escaped her when his teeth grazed her bottom lip.

Heat exploded across her chest and burned away every spiritual impurity that came before him. She wanted his body now. Just as she reached her hand out to grab his head and bring it to hers, Madison’s body betrayed her and stretched readily under his touch. Kissing him impatiently, fingers tightened around his. She brought her knees up onto either side of him, tangling one around him. And then she could have sworn she was going to stop breathing at the feel of his hand against her chest and under her top.  The idea that a man’s touch could be so utterly electrifying was a foreign concept. Women in the towns she passed through spoke of it as obligatory and barely tolerable.

Their men clearly did not know what they were doing.

Remy was rendering her into a puddle beneath his fingertips. All that filled her was desire, the need to take everything he offered and give him every single part of her in return. A low growl tore itself from her throat when his lips pressed against the forbidden flesh above her pants. She closed her eyes as she came to life under his ministrations. The world flipped upside down and all she could imagine was that promised moment in the future, the culmination of all of those kisses. Pressure grew in her chest. The emotion squeezed and tightened before uncoiling as their eyes met.

Aroused gaze reflected the turbulent feelings he had stirred up inside of her. Hands furiously tangled in his hair, ready to draw him to her. Then there was a hand on her thigh. The huntress tried to keep her thoughts stable but they swirled around in her head. Suddenly, her mind went quiet as her breath caught at his words. Bright blue eyes searched his. The anxiety in his look was evident. Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, a labored breath left her. It would be cruel to make him wait for a response. The same amount of ruthlessness it took him to taunt her with the very thing she could not stop thinking about. Madison brought his face towards hers and kissed him, multiple brief times. Fingers danced down his spine to his waistband. Back and forth she ran her pointer finger before taking her hand on a slow trek back to the front of his chest, resting above his heart. Her other hand brushed across his jaw.

“You really are the densest Roadwalker I have ever met, Remy Sterling.” A delicate smile played her lips as she brushed her finger against his bottom lip. “I’m already yours. I’ve been yours.” Madison had always been her own person; a single entity against the rest of rotting Northam. Now they were a pair, two individuals standing against the prejudices and hardships of the post-nuclear earth. And she would never, ever be separated from him through any choice of her own. She lifted her hips upward into his and shifted their positions. Remy’s back hit the mattress with a soft thud. Slender frame slid over his with a fluidity that suggested their bodies fit as two pieces of a puzzle.

Madison was a very apt pupil.

She held herself above him, arms outstretched. “I promise.” She breathed and kissed his temple. “I promise to walk with you.” Mouth pressed to his jawline. “I promise to stand with you.” A kiss just below his ear. “I promise to wake up beside you every day.” A light graze of her teeth down his neck. “And fall asleep at your side every night.” She kissed along his chest as her hands moved deftly downward. “I promise to learn from you.” Deft fingers found the button on the waistband of his pants and released it. “And I promise to teach you.” She kissed his abdomen before rising back up slightly. Madison felt her heart pounding viciously in her chest. The faint flicker of the perfumed candle’s light illuminated his face and then cast it in shadow. I promise to love you. She thought it, knew it deep in her bones. He was the most perfect thing she ever had.

“I promise to care for you every day,” azure gaze held his from her position below him. A smirk played her mouth for a moment. She dipped her head and kissed his now exposed hipbone. Hesitant fingers ran down the sides of both of his legs, from his hip to mid-thigh and she tugged his pants with the movement. Then she made her way back upward, tantalizingly slow. Madison grabbed his mouth with hers, hungrily with parted lips. She barely pulled back, running her mouth towards his ear.

“And spend my nights showing you precisely how much.” She whispered into his ear.

Remy couldn’t breathe. He was sure of it. The proximity of her lips, the electrifying heat of her body against his flesh—he was paralyzed, bound helplessly in the intoxicating spell of her kisses, her touch. His limbs trembled with white hot anticipation as she moved against him, and the hum that worked its way unbidden from his throat crescendoed to a heady moan. He was no longer in control of his body; he was utterly powerless, a puppet whose strings were wrapped around Madison’s deft fingers.

What he wanted was to devour her then and there, to become one with the only person with whom he had ever truly connected, the only person he had ever… The thought halted abruptly. A smile spread across his face against her kiss as it dawned on him that the only way he wanted to end that sentence was with loved. He wanted to become one with the only person he had ever loved.

The realization threw gasoline on the inferno that already raged inside him. Suddenly her kisses were scalding, her fingertips blistering. The shudder that racked his body betrayed the lust that consumed him as her lithe form pressed him into the mattress. “Madison…” Her name was a low growl, barely intelligible.

He felt his chest might burst with each declaration that she made. Her honeyed voice brought their future together into sharp relief; her promises painted a picture of a life he’d never thought possible.

His back arched into her kisses as her lips descended, his pulse hammering against his ribs. Her mouth against his exposed hipbone sent lightning through every fractal nerve, and he could feel himself unraveling further at the pressure of her hands on his thighs. Reflexively, he reached down and tangled his fingers in her hair, an exhilarated hum vibrating from his throat. He wanted to speak, but his breath was too ragged—and his thoughts were overpowered by the raw, electrifying sensations of his physical body.

It was agony as she moved upward again, her slow progression a titillating trail. But when her mouth took his once more, his agency returned with a vengeance. A lascivious grin pulled at his lips as they parted beneath hers. He tore away just far enough to speak, his voice a coarse murmur in her ear. “Allow me to give you a preview of your first anatomy lesson.” His palms grasped her waist as she hovered over him, with one hand traveling slowly, teasingly, to her hip, and then momentarily to her backside. With his other hand still at her waist, he guided her down until her back sunk into the mattress. He lay on his side pressed against her, legs tangling.

“I will teach you all about the erogenous zones,” he whispered. His hand meandered slowly downward, over the waistband of her pants. “And how the female body in particular…” Another kiss while his fingers slid tantalizingly between her thighs. “…has areas built solely for pleasure…”At the last word, his fingers moved suddenly, but gently, to run along the very inner seam of her pants. He paused his fingers there for the briefest of moments, then worked his way back upward with tender fingertips.

He kissed her again, slowly and deeply, his body melting against her side. “What have you done to me, my fierce Madison Gallow?” he whispered, repeating the question she had spoken earlier. He exhaled an exhausted but blissful sigh. “I can’t get enough of you. I can’t get close enough to you.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight to his bare chest. They fit together as though hewn for that express purpose. “The world might be a nightmare, but it can’t be so bad if it gave me you.”

The guttural noise that wrapped itself around her name was kerosene to the bonfire inside of her. Awe that she elicited such a sound from his eager lips was readily replaced by an enduring lust. Greedy fingers wrapped into her hair, encouraging every wanton thought that filled her once pure mind. Madison longed to taste every inch of his body, both visible and hidden. Her fingers burned to claim the flesh she had not yet explored. Fear was extinguished by the tidal wave of desire he had brought about with each body shaking word.

His grip on her hips froze her in place giving her a moment to become even more inebriated on his words. Lying suddenly at his side, Madison’s blue graze grew suddenly confused. The unfamiliar syllables he strung together held a seductive connotation. Errogenous. Her mind played the word over as his hand slipped down, down, down. The promise punctuated each subsequent sound he made and the anticipation she felt became shattering. “Remy.” She breathes when he arrives at her waist. “Remy.” She was unable to hide the tremble in her voice when he arrives at her legs. Then...

Oh.
Oh
Oh.

A whimper fled her lips as heat exploded with the force of a nuclear arsenal across her sharp hips and down between her legs. All at once the energy expelled flooded back into her and formed a tight knot between her thighs. Want filled each single part of her and his fingers hadn’t even touched her skin. Her hand that was closest to him spasmed, fingers pressing into his skin as nails delicately bit into the flesh.  The promise hung there, calling to her and retreating, beckoning and fleeing as her eyes closed to savor the feel of it. As quickly as he began the brief lesson, he moved back to hold her against him then.

Madison’s throat was too tight with emotion to say anything. All she could muster was to meet his gaze through half-lidded, amorous eyes. He put into words what she had felt without knowing for weeks. How in this cruel, unforgiving place had he found her? She did not believe in any higher power but something, somehow drew them to each other - an invisible hand guiding them. Gratitude welled in her chest as she brought her hand up his bare side.  “You’re a part of me that I did not know I was missing.” She whispered back, kissing him with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of desire inside of her.  Too much energy still coursed through her, making her nerves hum and vibrate as though she was electrified. Madison’s breathing was still labored a she tried to exert control over her body. “You have undone me, Remy.” She could feel her pulse between her legs, pressing against him. It pounded so loudly she thought her body may not be able to contain it. A shaky breath escaped her lips. “I’ve never wanted anything, anyone so badly.” The truth slammed into her. She didn’t want to kill the Commander as much as she wanted to spend the rest of eternity finding all the places that made him growl her name and instinctively grab her hair. “There’s just too much. I can’t...” she murmured each word against his mouth, forcing herself to slower and softer ministrations. The knot in her belly eased, slowly unraveling with pulsating heat. She resisted every urge to rip off remaining articles of clothing that separated them.

Madison’s body shuddered against him. “I would very much like to learn more about these...” How had he said it? “Errogenous zones and where the ones on the male body are located.” She kissed him multiple more times, languidly to ease the tension in her limbs. She kissed him as she drew blankets over them. She kissed him until the energy gave way to exhaustion and the exhaustion gave way to sleep.

The faintest of morning lights peaked through the window of the loft, and somehow managed to perfectly rest on a Madison’s closed eyes. She hummed low in her throat and rolled to her right, only to feel something sturdy and deliciously warm next to her. In the fog of sleep she burrowed towards the heat until realization rammed into her. Remy. Oh no...The words she had said. The things she had done. They all came rushing back and crashing down on her like a tsunami of awareness.  Stiffening, she tried to stay as still as possible to avoid awakening him. What could she say? What would she do? As a million thoughts swirled in her mind she looked at his sleeping form. The stubble that peppered his jaw and the gentle curve from his neck to his shoulder. An ember from the night before sparked inside of her. The huntress tamped it down before it roared into a aroused inferno. He was so peaceful, so handsome, and he was all hers.

Whether it was by chance, destiny, or some grand supernatural design, the fact that their paths had crossed that fateful day all those months ago seemed like a miracle between unimaginable nightmares. They had grown from untrusting travel companions, to partners, to friends, and now to lovers—not only in spite of the obstacles the treacherous journey had thrown before them, but because of them.

In a world whose very foundation was built of propaganda and lies, Remy had learned early on that trusting someone was a surefire way of getting yourself killed. Lying in Madison’s arms, he was completely vulnerable—his mind open, his emotions laid bare, and his body utterly undefended. Yet, he had never known this degree of serenity, of safety. The word home flickered through his mind again, and a soft shiver made its way down his spine. He tightened his embrace, bringing his cheek to rest against her hair as his pulse slowly returned to normal. “I want to drink you in,” he whispered, words as gentle as the fading glow of the scented candle. “I never want to let you go.”

And he had no intention to. As Madison drew the blanket over them, he closed his eyes and nestled close. The roaring fire of their shared ecstasy had dimmed to gentle embers, and he fell almost immediately to a deep, exhausted, contented sleep at her side.

It seemed like only moments had passed since he closed his eyes, but the brightening room spoke of dawn. Lying on his back, he opened his eyes slowly, forgetting momentarily where he was—and with whom he shared the bed. Remembering suddenly, he turned to his side, where Madison lay facing him, already awake. He blushed when he met her azure gaze, but the smile worn on his lips and the affectionate gleam in his eyes would have betrayed him regardless. He reached out, tentative this time, and placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

“So it wasn’t just the greatest dream I’ve ever had,” he remarked, surprising himself at how shy he felt…and how shy he sounded. He didn’t want to be nervous—but the memory of their declarations reverberated differently without the cover of darkness. What if she no longer felt the same way in the glow of dawn? Certainly that wasn’t possible. There had been too much sincerity, too much ache in the oaths they exchanged.

Not to mention the intimacy, and the scorching heat of mutual desire…

A pang of want sprang unbidden to his core at the memory of her lips, her touch, her skin. His throat tightened against it. But even with the spark of arousal extinguished, a new kind of excitement pulsed in his heart. She was his. They belonged to one another; they fit together like the finishing pieces to a complex puzzle. A team unlike any other, battling the evils of the world as one.

Emboldened, he moved his hand from her shoulder to her cheek, where he ran one finger down to brush against her lips. For several moments he said nothing, unsure what to say, until at last he grinned and quipped, “Too bad we never finished that book, huh?”

Velvet words sent a shiver down her spine and brought a heated blush to her cheeks. The warmth from it spread across the back of her neck and into all of her aching limbs. She kept her head down hiding half in her bent elbow that supported her and the other slightly shielded beneath wisps of hair. “I don’t think I could have dreamed something so....perfect.” Madison murmured from the safety of her makeshift barrier, peering at him with the same bashfulness evident in his own tenor.

Excitement entered her gaze as light finger strokes came to her cheek, moving her hair aside. Light illuminated his face and the arousal in his gaze was keen enough. It tightened the small knot in the pit of her stomach. Nerves sparked back to life when she licked her lips briefly after his finger brushed it. She needed to get up right now and check those traps or else they’d likely get drawn into more reading.

The recollection of his teasing, his taunting and his pledge to have her body and soul burst to the front of her mind. She prickled at it slightly, both annoyed and invigorated by it. A product of her environment, the huntress was not one to let someone else have the upper hand even in matters that she was sorely ignorant, especially in the glaring light of the approaching day and with that devastating grin on his lips. “It is unfortunate that I will require more lessons. Probably will need them nightly at this rate.” She responded as she pushed herself upward. The pups seemed to sense that their masters had arisen and she heard the faint rustling of their blankets. “I am such a slow,” she moved her hand to his neck and trailed it quickly down to the undone button at his waist, “slow learner.” With that she lifted herself off and away from the loft’s mattress, snagging her sweater as she went. Descending the ladder at a quick pace, she tossed him one last smirk as a blush striped across her cheeks.

On the first floor of the cabin, with the dogs bounded around her with abundant energy, Madison felt more in control of herself. The new ache for him remained ever-present but dulled due to their distance and necessity to start the day.  Dogs out and back in. Fire stoked to a muted roar. Water consumed and jerky eaten.  Sweater tugged over her head and hair back in a tight plait. Boots laced up over her thick outer pants and the broth put back on its hanger to warm, though this time she was careful to ensure it would not boil over while she was gone. As Madison jerked her beanie over her head and buttoned up her jacket, she met his gaze. “I’m going to check the snares. I’ll take Damien with me. It should be easy,” a shrug lifted her shoulders beneath the thick layers she wore. “The weather seems...calmer today so hopefully we can make it down before a storm picks up later today. “ She hesitated as she opened the door, Damien bounding out into the snow as Magnolia sniffed at Remy’s pants.  The urge to say something welled up in her but she tamped it down. The door closed with a foreboding click behind her.

Glittering flickers of light reflected off the snow from the only slightly overcast sky above. Beams of sunlight streamed through intermittently and she smiled at the perfection of the day. After a night like she had...it was as though the weather agreed with their union. The rounds to each snare were tedious but simple. Arrows hung in the quiver at her back and the bow attached there. She held one knife in her left hand with other various ones strapped to her boots and pants in case the snare had left some quarry alive. Three of the initial snares were empty and she felt her dread grow but utilized the time to bring the pup to heel and teach him how to trek lithely through the snow. The task was more cumbersome than she anticipated and required far more jerky for positive reinforcement. The final two snares yielded a scrawny rabbit and a fluffy feral animal she thought was a raccoon. Liberating the corpses and replacing the components into their proper places of her knapsack, she tied them by their feet to her bag. She whistled for her companions follow as she trudged through the snow, along the riverside, back towards the cabin.

Bright sapphire eyes caught sight of the plume of smoke.  Lips curved into a smile at the idea of huddling against him tonight for warmth and the promise that more than just a fire might keep them warm. Madison felt so brazen for such wild fantasies and shook her head. So caught up was she in the memory of his hands that she did not keep a close eyes on Damien. A whimper caught her attention as they were only few yards away from the cabin. Turning, suddenly on edge, she caught sight of him on the river, on the ice as it began to crack. He was frozen by fear, longing to get back to her but afraid to move.

“Baby. Baby.” She crooned, taking her pack off and dropping it down with her knife on the snow. She moved towards the frozen bank slowly, checking her steps before she paced her weight. Everything in her said to leave him. It wasn’t worth the risk. She shouldn’t be so foolish. But it was Damien and he was Magnolia's and Magnolia was Remy’s. And Remy was hers. Setting her teeth firmly against each other,  the Gallow girl stepped onto the ice.

Crunch. Crack.

She steadied herself, holding her hands out beside her to distribute her weight. “Stay. You remember that one, yeah? Good boy. Good Damien. Stay.” His whimpering grew louder as the noise beneath her feet intensified.  Intelligent gaze took in the long crack starting to open beneath him. He was so close. Madison closed her eyes, took one long steadying breath and lept. Her feet landed gingerly next to him, opposite the large crater beginning to expand. Deft, gloved hand grabbed him by the scruff and threw him in an arch back towards the bank. Slender body spun around 180 degrees. Daemon gave a yelp of surprise as he crashed into the pile of snow. His little black nose jutted up, sniffing in surprise.

And that was the last thing she saw.

Everything cracked around her, splitting as though the whole world was being torn asunder. She was sucked down into the depths. Cold leeched through her bearskin coat and the beanie that protected her head. She was swept down, towards the cabin. Madison floundered for a moment before adrenaline and her survival instinct overpowered her fear.  Her feet darted out this way and that, searching for purchase. She finally found it on a large rock. It was slick, angry at her touch, yet she grasped it with her calves as hard as she could. She tore off a glove with her teeth, letting it be carried off by the turbulent waters lurking beneath the ice. She fumbled for the knife at her thigh, grasping it firmly but her fingers prickled with the aching frost. Trembling wracked through her whole body and she barely kept hold of the rock as her hand relaxed. She swallowed and cursed as the blade too was taken away by the rivers siren song.

The longing for air pressed itself against her lungs, pressure building and building. Frozen hand found her last knife, her last hope in her boot, struggling to free it. As she did, she stopped shivering. This was enough fighting. It was too cold. It was too much. Sleep, the waters called to her, rest.

But Remy.

He wouldn’t know what happened. He wouldn’t know that she loved him. The heat of it surged at her core and she grabbed the blade in her hand as hard as she could and thrust it upwards. Crack. Crack. Crack. It wasn’t working. It wasn’t going to work. She would have sobbed if she could have. The urge to breathe overwhelmed her and she took in a mouthful of water. It burned with fire the whole way down. Crack. Another stab upward. Crack. Cold with each movement. Crash.

The ice exploded around her and she shot upward grabbing at the opening. Trying to gulp air, she floundered. Slick boots teetered on tiptoes at the point of the rock. Madison bent her knees, a new urge to live coursing through her.  She heard a bark in the distance and launched herself upward. The ice cracked but held as she scrambled to the shore, to the snow.  It shuddered begin her. Coughing and sputtering, water expelled itself from her lungs in spurts.

All she desired was the lay back on the snow, if she just laid here it would all be okay. She wasn’t really cold anymore. If the huntress just closed her eyes...

Damien bit her ear and the pain jolted through her. Hazy eyes turned to him as he pawed at her neck and she coughed again, trying to ward him off.  He barked again and she hissed. Remy. She remembered him. The doctor. The Roadwalker. They had a tent together.

Cabin. Cabin. They had a cabin. With fire and warmth and hands and teeth and lips. She rolled into her side. Fortune favored her as she crawled up the small slope. The cabin was merely feet away. Just a few feet more. She climbed as best she could, curling her bare hand into her jacket to fend off frostbite on the unloved digits. Madison did not consciously make such decisions, merely acting on instinct as she repeated his name like a mantra.

So close, her body carried her so close while Damien bounded at her side, jumping on her back if she slowed. This is a fun game. She laughed, whether out loud or internally she wasn’t certain. She was almost there but it was too much. Just a tiny rest, a moment to close her eyes.  Damien pawed her head as it hit the snow, leaving a scratch behind her ear. Madison did not move. He pounced again and barked, barked, barked with increasing ferocity at her limp frame.

Remy watched as she slid from the sanctuary of the duvet, blue eyes stormy with wicked mirth. The morning cold that settled in her stead was keenly felt, and he ached immediately for her lithe, warm form to be pressed once more against his side. As if reading his thoughts, she trailed her finger down, down, down the center of his bare chest as she stood over the bed, her own azure eyes reflecting the same pang of attraction that shone in his. A burst of heat ignited in his core beneath her touch.

“It’s a good thing that I’m…very patient,” he returned, chilly air forgotten. He bit his lip against the simmer of desire, eyes tracking her as she gracefully descended from the loft. Even in her absence, he felt his cheeks flush, and he reached up to run his fingers through his messy hair.

He swung his legs to the cold floorboards, gooseflesh erupting on his arms as a wintery draft from the dirty upper window brushed against his bare torso. The light of the eastern sunrise cut a sharp line through the dusty air, splashing an orange glow across the loft. A shiver shook his shoulders. He grabbed his hastily-discarded t-shirt and slid it over his head—reminded, briefly, of how close Madison had come to seeing his damning tattoo—then retrieved the sweater, draping it over his arm before climbing down the ladder.

They went through their morning routine as though it were old hat. She fed the pups as he fed the fire; she readied the pot while he unwrapped their jerky breakfast. They spoke little, yet the silence was comfortable—despite the shy exchange of glances and the perpetual blush that painted his cheeks. He slipped on his sweater again, then laced up his boots, which were luxuriously warm and dry after a night by the hearth. He followed her to the door as she readied herself to check the snares.

“Right, yeah, I…” he began, suddenly unsure what to say. “I’ll get the rest of our stuff ready to go.” He pursed his lips, then smiled despite himself. “Be careful? Yeah?”

He watched for a moment as Madison and Damien picked their way steadily through the drifts, then closed the door against the chill. “What do you say?” he asked Magnolia, planting his hands on his hips as he looked down at her. She glanced to the door and yipped, disappointed not to be going on an outdoor adventure with her brother. “None of that, Mag. We’ll be going outside soon enough. Trust me, you want to enjoy this while you can.” She wagged her tail playfully as he spoke, then reached out to tug at one of the laces on his boot.

He scooped her up and carried her to the living room, tilting his chin upward against an onslaught of excited puppy kisses. “I have to get packed up,” he declared, tapping her nose affectionately. “Then we can work on some commands before Madison and your brother get back.” Magnolia gave a high-pitched bark as if in complete agreement, and he chuckled as he put her down on the floor. She took off toward the blankets where they’d slept, diving against the fabric with mock aggression.

It didn’t take long to gather their things. Even their new acquisitions from cabin storage—the first aid kit, Madison’s new gloves, a few boxes of matches—they’d left stacked in their appropriate piles the previous evening. He rolled up the new thick blankets and strapped them to their packs. Stirred the broth. Added one last log to the fire. Checked the ammunition in his pistol. Fetched yet another box of matches from the nightstand in the loft. Refilled their canteens with melted snow.

Everything was ready. All they had to do was pack up any meat from the snares, buckle up their packs, and go. But where was Madison?

A knot of worry tightened in his gut. She should be back by now. He glanced to the door as though he could conjure her with his stare. Even if every trap had yielded prey, it seemed unlikely it would take ever-efficient Madison this long to return with the bounty. Unless the snares attracted a bear.

While Remy could hold his own in a fight, there was no question that Madison was the warrior of the pair. But even his fierce companion would struggle if up against a grizzly, or a pack of hungry wolves. He tamped down the vicious thought and gnawed at his lip. Not likely, he reasoned. And it certainly wasn’t helpful to stew on intrusive imaginings before they happened…

Magnolia cocked her head to the side, suddenly intensely interested in the door. Damien’s faint yips could be heard at a distance outside, and Remy breathed a sigh of relief that Madison had returned safely. The pup at his feet wagged her tail excitedly as he swung open the door; she pushed through with her nose into the snow as soon as the opening was wide enough to break through. But Madison wasn’t there to greet him.

The sky had brightened as the sun crept higher, faint wisps of clouds glowing pastel pink over the tree line. He stepped out, shielding his eyes with a hand. Damien barked again, more urgently this time, and he caught a flash of the pup’s movement against the snow next to a dark mound in the drift.

Madison.

“Madison!”

Her name exploded from his lips, and he sprang forward, scrambling through the knee-deep powder with Magnolia on his heels. “No, no, please, no, no, no,” he breathed, collapsing to his knees at her side. Her face was unnervingly calm and still, her skin tinged with eerie blue. Cyanosis. How could this happen? He shook her shoulder aggressively, finding her fur coat crunchy and frozen beneath his urgent grip. Water. The river. “Hey. Hey. Madison. Madison! Hey! Can you hear me?” He patted her cheek roughly, fingers brushing against a strand of frozen wet hair as they moved down to the point where her neck met her jaw. Her pulse was weak and slow—almost undetectable, but present. He had to get her to warmth.

“Don’t go to sleep, Madison. Stay with me. You’re gonna be okay. We’re going inside.” Despite the horror threatening to unravel him, his physician’s training held strong; his voice was steady and even, surprisingly devoid of the fear pumping through him. A physician is only as good as the head he can keep in an emergency, his mentor had told him. Fear fuels. But panic blinds.

It was dangerous to move a hypothermic patient too jarringly, but he had no choice. He slid one arm beneath her knees and another around her shoulders, then hoisted her into his arms. Although he barely registered the biting cold of the morning air in his focus, the sensation of the icy Madison against him was a shock that only fueled his footsteps faster through the snow. You can’t fucking die on me, Madison Gallow, he thought furiously. I won’t let you.

With the pups just behind, he burst through the cabin door and went directly to the fire. He dropped to his knees and placed her gently at the hearth, his fingers once again finding the thready pulse in her neck. “You’re going to be fine,” he repeated, as much for himself as for her. He swallowed back a wave of terror. Fear fuels. Panic blinds. “You got that?”

He found the buttons on her coat, unfastening them with fingers clumsy from the windchill. The garment’s lining was damp and frigid. He wriggled it from under her back and tossed it aside, then unsheathed the knife in his boot. “We have to get these wet clothes off you,” he narrated, bringing the blade to the collar of her sweater, “they’re sapping your body heat faster than we can get you warm.”

Remy sliced through the knitted stitches in one upward pull, the wet wool melting apart against the sharpened blade. Then he turned to her pants, which were still half-frozen and stiff, and sliced them away as well. His movements were methodical, clinical; this was no tender undressing, this was a matter of life or death, and time was of the essence. And there were plenty of spare clothes in the cabin boxes.

He reached for his pack, deftly fetching one of the thick blankets he had just rolled up for their journey. He draped it over her and tucked it in tightly, knowing the wool would wick away the remaining moisture from her skin while trapping what little of her own body heat she produced.

For a moment, his throat was too tight to speak. Fear fuels, panic blinds, he repeated to himself, his fingers finding her pulse again. Still weak. But not worse. “If you fucking die on me, Madison Gallow,” he said, voice cracking, “I’ll fucking kill you with my bare hands.”

Jarring barks from the growing dog settling into a dull rumble and then faded to nothing. Sleep curled it dark tendrils around her legs, easing her into its comforting caress. The paradoxical warmth slip up her back and against her neck. It crooned to her in lulling tones, drawing her deeper and deeper into this embrace. As she slip down, Madison’s reverie was broken by a sharp exclamation. Was that her name? No, it couldn’t be. Come back to sleep. The warmth began to slide over her again and then a faint tingling sensation against her cheek. She murmured a protest that may or may not have been audible. Sleep.

Movement jostled her and she groaned, her head lolling towards a warm chest. The wool fabric against her cheek was soft from regular wear and she thought, briefly before sending back into the depths of darkness, that she could heart a frantic thudding heartbeat that was not her own.  The rhythm was almost recognizable to her even in that hypothermic state. The heart that cast the tempo against her ear kept her from sleep’s arms as her addled mind attempted to place its familiarity. If she concentrated long enough on it and slowed it down...hadn’t she just laid against its cadence on the previous night?

A recollection came to her but just as she began to draw on the strings of the memory, her body met the floor with what felt like a gale wind. Every tired muscle and every frozen joint protested the movements made by an external force on her body. Why couldn’t it just let her go? Why couldn’t it just let her sleep, just for a moment longer? Darkness flittered around her vision, attempting to open her eyes but finding she was without the adequate strength to do so.  Her mother would always stroke her hair, brush her face. She was doing it now, wasn’t she? She was just tucking Madison into bed. Sleep.

“I got it, mama. I told you I got it. I can take care of it. I’m not a child anymore.” She murmured in response to a question her mother asked her.  The older woman’s face hung in her vision, despite her eyes remaining closed. She felt the caress of her mother’s fingers against her cheek and the warmth of the fire her father was stoking to life. Home. She was home. Sleep.

The huntress tried to move her limbs but she was too comfortable, that was all.  After what felt like and age, blue eyes fluttered open as she felt cool steel against her neck and it tore downwards. She expected cool air to rush again and a shiver to take her but she felt so warm. Heat trickled on her limbs and her bare fingers. A puddle of water developed beneath her neck as her hair warmed and the ice began to melt from the fire’s roaring heat. “I don’t need any clothes. It’s so hot...Just take them all off.” The words were clumsy and slurred against blue lips. Another slide into darkness. Once the blanket was securely around his owner, Damien whined low as she settled at her side, opposite of Remy. He nudged under her leg with his nose and cast glances at Magnolia. The female hound’s stress was evident as she paced being the physician, wanting to comfort him but unsure about the new stern nature of his tone.

Crystalline blue eyes flashed open suddenly as heat flared through her naked limbs, shielded only from prying eyes by a thick blanket. Fingers were against her throat and she turned her head lazily despite the urgency in her body. She captured his tumultuous gaze, his eyes the color of a turbulent storm.  Muddled mind registered his words and a half smirk came to her thawing mouth.

“I can think of a couple of better things for you to do with your bare hands, Remy Sterling.” A retort of indefinite suggestion slid from her lips. At the thought another flare of heat surged through her and she felt too hot. Her skin was going to burn away in this scorching inferno and she needed to be free of it. Stiff arms shakily pushed herself upright with all of the strength of a newborn baby. The blanket slid down her body to rest just above the black underclothes covering her lower body. The black cami was damp but drying readily. It was the source of her discomfort. If she could just get it off, then she would feel better. Reaching her hands on opposite sides of the dark fabric, she began to lift it over her head. Madison just needed to not be so hot.

For all his physician’s training, there was nothing that could have prepared him for this. Remy prided himself in maintaining a level head in an emergency—one reason why he had been able to convince his mentor Dr. Sterling to take him under his wing all those years ago, and how he had proven himself invaluable as a medical apprentice in a time of war. But after his teacher’s death, before Remy’s path had intersected Madison’s, he had been completely on his own. There had been no risk of treating someone he knew and cared about because he had formed no attachments with anyone else.

But feeling it now, he doubted there were any way he could have readied himself for this particular breed of terror. It was a fear unlike any other he had experienced—not as a child standing before his father, not when escaping the capital, not even battling malicious hordes on the road. Those were situations he could control, to some degree; it was his own life that hung in the balance, and if he could not defend himself, that was his own failure. But this? Icy helplessness threaded through the dread and cinched tight around his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Even if he did everything right, there was still a chance Madison could die.

And there wouldn’t be a damn thing more he could do.

Even when her Madison’s flashed open, meeting his with obvious recognition, there was no modicum of relief to cool the worry in his gut. Despite the smirk on her face and the suggestion of words, he could not muster any amusement in response—her words were slurred, and though she seemed to know who he was in that moment, it was clear that her mental status was altered.

“Don’t…” he began, but she was already rising, the wool blanket sliding to her hips. Damien, startled by the sudden movement, backed away to join his nervous sister. Remy reached over her, gripping each of her shoulders before she could remove her undershirt. “No, no. Look at me,” he told her, voice low but stern. She returned his pressing stare, and he searched her gaze intensely for any sign of recognition. “We’re going to lie back down now, okay?” With gentle pressure, he lowered her back to the floor; her skin was clammy in his grasp. Gingerly, as though not to startle her, he brought the wool blanket back up to her chin. “I need you to stay still. Just for a little while longer.”

He clicked his tongue twice, to which both pups responded by hesitantly padding up to Remy’s side. They could sense the change in the physician’s demeanor and voice, and their instincts told them something was different about Madison. Damien immediately planted himself at Madison’s side, sitting so close he was practically on top of her. Magnolia took guard at her knees, watching Remy for a moment before lowering herself to her belly and resting her chin atop Madison’s leg.

“Are you still with me?” he asked, quiet but urgent. He began to narrate his actions, just as Dr. Sterling had taught him to do. Put the patient at ease, and keep yourself focused. Even if you’re not sure they can hear you or process what you’re saying. “I'm going to slide this under your head to soak up some of the water from your hair.” He lifted her wet, disheveled braid onto the corner of the other blanket, then worked the cloth gently under the weight of her head.

His hand trembled as he reached out to feel for her pulse once more. It beat against his fingertips with a little more urgency as he counted. This time, he dared allow himself a glimmer of relief. He removed his touch from her neck and brought it to her damp forehead, where he brushed away a few stray strands of hair and mopped up the melting droplets with his sleeve. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked, tone once again matter-of-fact despite the storm of concern in his blue eyes. “Can you tell me where we are?” He reached up again, catching a few additional droplets of water that ran down her temples from her thawing hair. “And what are the dogs’ names?”