I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 152: A storm and confort

The journey back to the cabin was... an ordeal.

Not the worst ordeal Elysia had ever faced—she had fought in wars, survived assassination attempts, been kidnapped by rebels—but it was certainly something.

The moment Malvoria admitted they were lost, their descent became an exercise in patience.

And by patience, she meant an endless, barely-contained frustration disguised as snide remarks and passive-aggressive comments.

It had started with Malvoria stubbornly insisting they weren’t that lost.

"Oh, temporarily misplaced, right?" Elysia had scoffed, crossing her arms as they paused near a ridge to get their bearings. "Like when a noble loses a jewel and insists it’s just misplaced while their entire household turns upside down looking for it?"

Malvoria had exhaled through her nose. "We’re getting back just fine."

"Sure. Just fine," Elysia had muttered under her breath. "Can’t believe the great and powerful Demon Queen is actually bad at directions."

That had earned her a sharp, narrow-eyed glance.

And then, the rain had started.

Just a drizzle at first—annoying, but manageable. Then it became heavier, mist creeping in between the trees, the path becoming slick and treacherous. The sky darkened faster than expected, thunder rolling distantly over the mountains.

By the time they had spotted the familiar landscape leading back to their secluded cabin, Malvoria’s patience was visibly thinning.

And, to Elysia’s absolute delight, she had looked stressed.

Not that Malvoria was ever fully uncomposed, but the way her brows furrowed deeper than usual, the tightness in her jaw, the occasional glare toward the sky as if it personally offended her—it was glorious.

"I’ll never let you forget this," Elysia had said, grinning as they finally approached the cabin, dripping wet from the rain.

Malvoria had merely sighed, shaking out her damp cloak before glaring at her. "That’s why I should’ve left you lost."

But there had been no real heat in her words.

Now, inside the warmth of the cabin, the atmosphere was different.

The storm outside had fully rolled in, thunder rumbling across the sky, the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the windows.

Rain tapped steadily against the wooden roof, and the air smelled of damp earth and crackling firewood.

Elysia tried not to overthink it, but her mind kept replaying that moment—when Malvoria had caught her.

The way her arms had felt around her. The way her voice had sounded, just a bit worried.

She stole a glance at Malvoria as they worked in the small kitchen, preparing a quick meal together.

Malvoria, ever composed, acted as if nothing had changed.

Which was frustrating.

"So," Elysia started, a slow smirk curling on her lips. "Didn’t know you could panic."

Malvoria paused, rolling her shoulders before glancing at her. "I don’t panic."

Elysia raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Because when we were lost, I swear I saw you looking very panicked."

Malvoria gave her a flat look. "You’re imagining things."

Elysia grinned. "Am I?"

Malvoria didn’t respond, focusing on slicing a fruit with deliberate, measured precision.

Elysia leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter, chin in her hands. "Come on, admit it. You were stressed."

Malvoria gave an unimpressed glance. "If I was stressed, it was because I had to listen to you complain the entire way back."

Elysia gasped dramatically. "Me? Complain? I was simply making observations."

Malvoria exhaled through her nose, shaking her head, but Elysia caught the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips.

That almost-smile.

It did things to her.

And she hated that it did.

Dinner was simple but warm, filling, and strangely comfortable. They talked—nothing serious, just light, teasing conversation, nothing that scratched at the unspoken tension between them.

And Elysia... didn’t know if she loved that or hated it.

Because for her, everything had changed.

The storm raged on outside, but inside the cabin, it was quiet. Cozy.

When dinner was finished, Elysia decided she needed a long bath.

The cabin had a small bathing room attached, and as soon as she stepped into the warm water, her muscles relaxed instantly.

She let out a deep sigh, tilting her head back, eyes fluttering shut as she sank deeper into the warmth. The rain drummed against the roof, the occasional rumble of thunder vibrating in the air.

And yet... she wasn’t entirely at ease.

Her mind was too full.

Too full of Malvoria.

She groaned, sinking lower into the water, furious at her own thoughts.

When she finally emerged, warm and refreshed, the cabin was dimly lit, Malvoria already sitting on the edge of the bed, back turned to her, as if lost in thought.

Elysia hesitated for a second.

And then she shook herself. No. You’re not going to let this be weird.

Without a word, she climbed into bed.

And for a while, she lay still, staring at the ceiling, listening to the storm outside.

But she couldn’t sleep.

Not with the way Malvoria was right there.

The bed wasn’t small, but it also wasn’t large enough to not notice how close they were.

She turned slightly, shifting under the blankets.

And in that moment, she accidentally brushed against Malvoria’s arm.

Malvoria turned slightly at the touch, and suddenly, their faces were mere inches apart.

Elysia froze.

Her heart pounded. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

The silence between them stretched, thick and charged, the storm outside seeming distant compared to the weight of this moment.

And then—Malvoria moved.

Not away.

Closer.

She reached out, her fingers barely grazing Elysia’s wrist. Just a light touch. Fleeting but deliberate.

Elysia barely breathed.

The rain continued to patter against the roof, thunder rumbling in the distance, but all she could focus on was this.

And then Malvoria whispered, voice barely audible over the storm,

"Sleep, Elysia."

But Elysia couldn’t.

Because the storm outside wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the storm inside her own chest.

A low rumble of thunder echoed, the wind howling against the cabin walls.

Elysia swallowed hard, gripping the blanket tighter.

Malvoria noticed.

And before she could second-guess it, Malvoria shifted, moving closer, wrapping an arm around Elysia’s waist.

The warmth was immediate.

Elysia stiffened for a fraction of a second, but Malvoria’s voice was calm, steady, reassuring.

"Everything’s fine," Malvoria murmured against her hair. "Don’t worry. I’m here."

Elysia squeezed her eyes shut, willing her heart to stop pounding.

This was dangerous.

But she didn’t move away.

Didn’t want to move away.

And, as the storm raged outside, Elysia—finally, finally—let herself relax in Malvoria’s arms.