I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 153: You don’t have to pretend

The first rays of sunlight began to slip through the slanted wooden shutters of the cabin, slicing across the room in golden slivers that caught the edges of furniture and painted the soft linen sheets in molten light.

Dust particles floated lazily in the morning air, dancing in the glow like remnants of a forgotten dream. The storm had passed sometime during the night—replaced now by a stillness that clung to everything like dew.

Malvoria had been awake for a while.

Not because of the light.

Not even because her body was trained to wake at the first sign of dawn.

But because of her.

Elysia.

Clinging to her like a blanket might vanish at any moment. One arm was hooked loosely around Malvoria’s waist, the other resting—no, gripping—her shoulder with the fierce intensity of someone not quite ready to let go.

And her face.

Gods, her face.

Her expression was scrunched slightly in sleep, brows furrowed as though dreaming of something half-terrible, half-sweet. Her lips were slightly parted, her breath warm and even against Malvoria’s collarbone.

Her silver hair was an absolute disaster, fanned out in tangled waves over the pillow and across Malvoria’s chest, one lock draped over her own neck like a careless ribbon.

One of her legs had slipped between Malvoria’s somewhere during the night, and the result was... intimate.

Far too intimate.

Malvoria should have moved.

She should have slipped away the moment she woke. Returned to the other side of the bed. Rebuilt that necessary barrier between them.

But she hadn’t.

And now, Elysia was curled around her like a second skin.

Last night... she had been the one to reach out first. The one to pull her close. The one who whispered reassurance into her hair as thunder cracked over the cabin.

She hadn’t even known Elysia was afraid of storms. The Princess of Fire, trembling not from cold, not from pain, but from fear—and not once saying a word about it. Not even trying to explain.

She had just curled closer, hands fisting into Malvoria’s shirt, like she was terrified Malvoria might vanish if she let go.

And now?

Now this.

Malvoria didn’t know if her heart was going to explode... or if she should laugh.

Instead, she smirked.

It was adorable.

Elysia—this reckless, sharp-tongued, impossibly proud woman—had somehow ended up snuggled into Malvoria like she was a living shield, a protective wall against the dark. Like Malvoria was the safest thing in the world.

She wanted to laugh, but the sound refused to leave her throat.

Instead, she shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and ran through a hundred possible lines in her head for when Elysia did wake up.

"Oh, good morning. Did you mean to climb on top of me, or was that an unconscious show of affection?"

Too much.

"How sweet. I didn’t know you needed a demon blanket."

Better.

"New rule: whenever it storms, you’re legally obligated to cuddle me."

She nearly chuckled.

Gods, what was she even thinking? What was this?

She should be running battle simulations. Reviewing intelligence reports on rebel activity. Planning diplomatic meetings with the celestial envoy.

Not lying here, thinking about how beautiful Elysia looked when she slept.

Her gaze drifted back down. A few strands of silver hair had fallen across Elysia’s cheek. Without thinking, Malvoria reached out and brushed them away gently.

Elysia stirred.

Malvoria froze.

A breathless moment.

And then slowly, lashes fluttered, breath caught.

Elysia blinked blearily, confusion immediately blooming across her face as she tried to register where she was, who she was next to, and why she was so tangled up in that person.

Malvoria held her breath, waiting.

Elysia blinked again, and their eyes met.

She didn’t speak. Not yet.

She just stared.

And the softness in her gaze... it almost made Malvoria forget to breathe.

She watched as realization began to dawn in Elysia’s sleepy, disoriented expression. That familiar spark of panic flickered behind her eyes as her gaze flicked downward—and then froze.

Her entire body stiffened.

Malvoria didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

Because Elysia had just realized—she was the one holding Malvoria.

Not the other way around.

And oh, it was glorious.

The absolute horror creeping across Elysia’s features, the way her eyes widened and her mouth parted in slow, dawning disbelief.

Her arm, still wrapped around Malvoria’s waist, began to retract slowly, like maybe, if she moved quietly enough, she could pretend none of it had happened.

But Elysia had never been subtle.

Her foot twitched.

And that twitch shifted her balance.

And that shift caused her to slide slightly—

Right off the edge of the bed.

"Shit—!"

Malvoria shot forward instantly, snatching her wrist just as Elysia flailed in half-asleep panic.

The blanket tangled around her legs, Elysia’s silver hair now a mess of chaos and static as she clung awkwardly to the edge of the mattress, scowling up at Malvoria like she had committed some heinous betrayal.

"You’re welcome," Malvoria said smoothly, cocking one brow. "Again."

Elysia groaned, flopping back onto the bed, her cheeks red. "I hate you."

Malvoria smirked. "Mm. That’s what they all say. Right before cuddling me in their sleep."

"That was not a cuddle," Elysia snapped, sitting up fully now and grabbing a pillow to hide her face. "That was unintentional unconscious positioning."

Malvoria let her smirk deepen. "Sounded like a cuddle."

"You’re insufferable."

"You’re adorable."

Elysia whipped the pillow at her.

Malvoria caught it one-handed.

Their eyes locked again and this time, Elysia didn’t look away.

She still looked half-embarrassed, but beneath that... there was something else. Something fragile and flickering, like the remnants of a dream she wasn’t quite ready to wake from.

Malvoria’s smirk faded. Just a little.

A beat passed.

Then another.

And then, quietly, Malvoria said, "You know... you don’t have to pretend."

Elysia frowned. "Pretend what?"

"That the storm didn’t scare you. That you didn’t want someone there."

Elysia stiffened.

"I’m not judging," Malvoria added quickly, softer now. "You don’t always have to be strong. Not with me."

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Just true.

Elysia lowered the pillow slightly, her eyes darker now. "That’s not fair," she whispered. "You can’t just say things like that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don’t know what to do with them."

Malvoria tilted her head. "Maybe... you don’t have to do anything."

Another long silence.

Elysia finally huffed. "You’re annoying."

"I get that a lot."

"And smug."

"Also a common complaint."

"And warm," Elysia muttered, clearly without thinking.

That earned her a slow, pleased blink from Malvoria.

"I’ll take that as a compliment."

Elysia groaned, faceplanting into the pillow again. "I regret everything."

Malvoria chuckled, a low sound in her throat as she leaned back against the headboard. "No you don’t."

They sat there for a moment, one flustered, one far too satisfied.

Outside, birds had begun chirping through the trees. The sunlight reached further into the cabin, casting warm pools of light across the wooden floor.

Malvoria leaned her head back, watching a shaft of sunlight touch the edge of Elysia’s bare shoulder.

Something stirred again in her chest.

A feeling she was slowly, finally, beginning to name.

And for once, she wasn’t afraid of it.

Maybe she should be.

But right now?

Right now, with Elysia beside her, flushed and grumpy and still clinging to a pillow like it could protect her from the emotional consequences of the last twelve hours—

Malvoria only felt... content.

She tilted her head and smiled.

Yes.

This would be fun.

And when Elysia looked up again, blinking slowly like she hadn’t quite figured out what the hell just happened, Malvoria was already plotting.

Breakfast.

A hike to the next ridge.

And maybe she’d get Elysia to hold her hand without even realizing it.

Let the games begin.