The fire crackled between them, its golden glow illuminating their faces in the cool, night air. Edward could feel the warmth radiating from Althoria as they sat side by side, their conversation ebbing into comfortable silence. The sound of soldiers preparing for the next day fated into breaths and faint rustle of leaves overhead.
Edward glanced at her, her blue hair shimmering faintly in the firelight. Her presence was magnetic, ethereal and real. She smelled faintly of earth and lavender a sharp contrast to the smoke and the steel. His heart was a wild thing, pounding in his chest as though it had a mind of its own.
His hand found hers without his consent.
It was soft, her skin smooth, warm against his rough hand. His pulse quickened as he looked at her, his gaze searching for any hesitation or resistance. Her eyes were dark in the firelight, her expression unreadable.
"I should go," she murmured, her voice low, but her hand didn't pull away.
Before he could think, before reason could tether him to reality, he stood up and pulled her to his tent that was just at the conner from where they sat, and when they got in before Althoria could react. His lips were against hers. It was a slow at first just the press of lips, the faintest touch of breath and hesitation. Then it grew, his fingers sliding to the curves of her hand, pulling her closer. She came without resistance, their breaths coming faster, their bodies leaning toward one another.
He could feel the heat of her body against his as his hand slid to her shoulder, pulling her closer. His lips parted, his teeth grazing her bottom lip as her hands found his chest, her mage's cloak falling from her shoulders, revealing the curves of her collarbone and the delicate lines of her from beneath.
The moment took over, fueled by a mix of firelight and the tension that had simmered between them for hours. His hands found the fabric of her dress, pulling it aside to expose the smoothness of her skin. She gasped as he touched her, her warmth like a spark against his touch. His lips followed the path of his hand, trailing over her shoulder, down to the curves of her neck leaving faint, open- mouthed kisses that teased faintly of smoke and passion.
The air between them grew heady, charged with unspoken desires and years of restraint. Althoria' s hands found his hair. Pulling him close, her breaths ragged now. Her voices broke through the haze.
"Edward…"
And then they were tangled. The firelight caught on their forms as they pressed together, their bodies responding to instinct of need. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer still as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Clothes were unfastened, silk and leather parting beneath their hands. Althoria stood before him, illuminated only by the soft orange glow of the flames, and the magic lanterns. Her fair skin seemed to shimmer, a softness to it that spoke of something ethereal.
Edward swallowed hard, his throat dry, as his gaze roamed over her. Her figure was deceptively petite, a frame built with strength and grace, the kind that hinted at her skill as both a fighter and a mage. Her body was unappareled, yet caried an undeniable femininity that defied sense and reason.
His eyes trailed down her shoulders, sculpted but delicate, to where her arms rested at her sides. His breath hitched as he caught sight of her curves, soft and elegant yet powerful enough to make his chest tighten. Her hips were just slightly fuller, a natural curve that seemed to sway with every subtle shift of her stance. Her legs, long and strong, carried an air of poise, as if she were always ready for both battle and dance.
She stepped closer, her lips parting slightly to speak, and Edward felt his resolve falter. He was a prince, trained, disciplined, raised to face challenges without hesitation. But here now, with her standing before him, he felt powerless.
He reached out, almost without thinking, his hand brushing her arm. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down his spine as he marveled at the warmth of her skin.
"You…" he whispered; his voice barely audible. "You are..." H e trailed off, unable to find words that could capture what he was feeling.
Althoria tilted her head, her dark fair falling in waves over her shoulders. There was a quite intensity in her gaze, as if she understood the weight of his silence. She smiled a small, knowing smile that seemed to pull him deeper into her spell.
Edward let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling as they found her waist. She was real, and yet everything about her felt impossibly divine. Her body was a masterpiece, but it was more than that it was the way she carried it, the confidence in her movements, the fire in her eyes.
"You're not real." He murmured, almost to himself. "You can't be."
Althoria stepped closer, her lips brushing against his ear. "I'm as real as you are, Sol Prince."
In that moment, he was overwhelmed. He wasn't a prince, a leader, or a warrior. He was just a man, utterly captivated by a woman who seemed to embody everything he had never dared to dream of.
The pressure built. The firelight danced over them as Edward eased her onto the soft bed behind them, the sound of her breath quick and sharp as their bodies pressed into one another. His lips found hers again, deeper this time, slower, tracing every inch of his desire into her. Althoria hands gripped his shoulders, her breaths short and sharp as she arched beneath him.
They moved together, their bodies syncing, a slow, deliberate rhythm of passion, heat, and feeling. His chest pressed into her, every movement pulling a moan, a gasp, a shiver from her. She felt so warm, so alive, and he couldn't stop, couldn't resist the pull of her, the sensation of her wrapped around him. They moved like that for what felt like hours slow, fierce and with passion.
When it was over, the two of them lay on the bed looking at the transparent top of them staring at the stars through it, their breath coming back to a steady breath.
They stayed like that for a while, as though they could stay forever, the sound of their breaths and the crackle of the fire torch, the only sound in the night.
Edward wondered if this would change everything.