The Lustforged Hero-Chapter 47: Dawn

The small room settled into stillness, the air warm and heavy. Liam and Isabella lay tangled in the furs, their bodies pressed close—sweat cooling on their skin, breath slowing after the storm of passion. The scent of candle wax and distant embers mingled with the lingering musk of their bodies. Her golden hair spilled across his chest, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks, blue eyes soft—half-lidded—tracing him in the dim torchlight that seeped under the door. His arm rested around her, fingers brushing her bare shoulder, his cock soft now, but his heart still thudding, steady, his mind drifting. Pleasure faded into a quiet haze, the kind that left him weightless, caught in that brief, perfect space between wanting and having.

The bed creaked faintly as she shifted, curling closer, tucking herself against him as if she could keep him there with just her warmth. The furs were soft beneath them, their heat trapped between bodies and fabric. Scrolls lay scattered on the floor, forgotten casualties of their earlier rush. One still half-rolled near the bedside, a broken wax seal clinging stubbornly to the parchment.

Isabella's fingers moved against his skin, tracing lazy circles over his chest—nails grazing, her touch light but deliberate. Her voice broke the silence, soft and low, words shaped in the hush of the room. "I've wanted more of you since you last came," she murmured, her eyes lifting to meet his, blue depths shimmering, raw—vulnerable. "I haven't been able to get our night on the balcony off my mind."

Her hand paused, pressing flat against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Golden hair slipped forward as she propped herself up on one elbow, studying him like he was something rare, something she couldn't quite hold onto. "This place—crowns, rules—it's a cage," she whispered. "You're the only thing that feels alive. Real."

Her words hung between them, honest, unguarded. No courtly masks, no careful deception—just the truth laid bare. Liam was her spark, her escape, the only thing in her gilded world that felt untamed, unshackled.

His chest tightened. He stayed quiet, gaze fixed on the ceiling, her confession sinking deep, then clashing hard. His body was here, but his head was already half gone. He just wanted to guck that's all. It did not know how to let go.

Fingers stilled on her shoulder. She felt it—the shift in him, the way his breath changed. Her hand slid up, cupping his jaw, turning his face until his eyes met hers again. Blue eyes locking, pleading. Her voice softened, barely more than a whisper. "Stay. Just a little longer. Please."

Her thumb brushed his lips, trembling slightly. Her golden hair framed her face, loose from its braids, wild, her need plain, fragile. Holding him there.

He exhaled, slow, eyes closing for just a breath, her touch tugging him back. When he opened them again, conflict swirled in his gaze. Her plea was a thread he couldn't quite snap. His hand lifted, sliding into her hair, pulling her close. Lips met—kissing slow, deep, gentle. Tasting salt. Wine. He couldn't say, what he couldn't promise.

Her moan hummed faintly against his lips, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Bodies pressed together again, furs shifting beneath them. Time stretched, the world shrinking down to just this—the warmth of her, the scent of her, the way her fingers curled against his skin as if to memorize every inch of him.

Then a knock shattered it—sharp, rattling wood.

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Kael's voice cut through, gruff, urgent, muffled by the door. "Liam—spies muster. Dawn's close. You're needed. Move."

Boots scuffed outside, retreating, the sound of orders being given, preparations moving forward. The battle plans were unfolding, strategy waiting to be set into motion.

Isabella tensed against him, breath catching. Her blue eyes flashed with something desperate, hands tightening in the furs—then loosening. Reluctant.

Furs rustled as the moment between them cracked, the warmth they'd built fracturing as reality surged back in. Liam's jaw clenched, pulse kicking up. It was time for him to go, but he didn't no how to leave.

His hand lingered in her hair, fingers tangling one last time before they fell away. Cool air rushed in as he pulled back, slow.

He swung his legs off the bed, boots hitting the wooden floor with a dull thud. Grabbing his trousers, his tunic, dressing quickly. The fabric felt rough against his skin, still warm from their time together. Her scent clung to him, sweet and intoxicating, an imprint of her that he would carry into the coming hours.

She sat up, the furs slipping down, golden hair spilling over bare shoulders, blue eyes tracking his every move. Lips parted, but no words came. Furs clutched in her hands, her body still flushed from their time together, the marks of him on her skin—evidence of what they had, of what he was leaving behind.

Kael's knock still echoed in his mind, the unspoken urgency pressing down on him. "How'd Kael know he was in this room, did he check the other room or did he just make a mistake?" He thought to himself.

He turned to her, fully dressed, his cloak settling around his shoulders. Their eyes met—hers soft, shining with unshed words, his firm, carrying the weight of all that was left unspoken.

His voice was low, gravelly, cutting through the thick silence. "I'll come back. When it's done. Promise." He didn't know if he should have promised that but he just had to say something before leaving.

His hand lifted, brushing her cheek, a brief touch—warm, lingering. Then he pulled away, stepping back, the space between them growing.

The door creaked as he opened it.

Her whisper followed, faint but fierce. "You better."

Blue eyes shining, holding onto him.

Then he was gone.

The door shut behind him, the sound a dull thud, sealing her warmth away. Torchlight flickered in the hall, colder, harsher, shadows stretching long against marble floors. His boots echoed, steady. The castle stirred, servants moving, warriors preparing, dawn creeping into the sky.

Kael waited ahead, his armor glinting in the dim light. Spies were mustering, the plan already rolling forward, unstoppable.

Liam's heart thudded, split in two. He hoped Kael hadn't noticed anything.

Isabella's touch lingered, a ghost on his skin. The scent of her still clung to him, her golden hair, her blue eyes, the quiet plea in her voice.

His steps quickened, cloak swaying, the dull ache in his thighs waking again, a reminder of what he was leaving behind.