Chapter 180
Jiselle‘
The path to the sacred cavern wasn’t marked on any map.
It lay behind a crumbling arch beyond the academy’s outer walls, hidden beneath an overhang of ancient stone and twisting vines, where the roots of trees tangled with the bones of the earth. Nate didn’t speak as we walked. He just held my hand, steady and warm, guiding me through ash–dusted undergrowth and narrow tunnels that pulsed faintly with old magic.
We hadn’t said much since the ceremony.
What could we say?
Max was gone. Ethan had questions we weren’t ready to answer. And inside me- -growing, watching, unknown–was something that had changed everything.
When we stepped into the cavern, I paused.
It was beautiful.
Not grand or bright or polished, but real. Untouched by war. Crystalline veins pulsed faintly along the walls, humming in quiet rhythm, like the heartbeat of the land itself. Water trickled somewhere in the shadows, the sound soft and steady. Moss crept along the stone in patches, glowing faintly blue in the
darkness.
A haven.
Nate let go of my hand and crossed the space to kneel near the spring that bubbled out of the far wall. He tested the water with his fingers, then nodded.
“Still warm.”
He began to gather stones, stacking them at the base of the spring to build a shallow basin. He didn’t ask for help. He knew I wouldn’t move yet. My legs were frozen.
I stood at the threshold, arms wrapped tightly around myself, staring at the soft rise of steam from the spring. The air here felt thick with something
ancient. Not hostile. Not safe, either. Just… aware.
“You used to come here?” I asked quietly.
He didn’t look up. “Once. After my second–year trial. I needed space. I didn’t know I’d find this. It felt like the only place in the world that didn’t want something from me.”
I took a slow step forward. Then another.
The further I walked in, the more the tension in my shoulders unraveled.
He looked over as I approached, water cupped in his hands. “It’s safe.”
“Is anything?”
He didn’t answer that. Just rose, offered the water to me. I drank without question. It tasted like the earth after rain.
He guided me to sit near the basin. Unfastened my boots. Pulled them off gently. His fingers brushed over my ankles, then up my calves as he checked for tension. Not as a lover. As someone anchoring me back into my body.
He peeled away the torn remnants of my uniform, layer by layer, reverent and slow. His hands shook only once–when they passed over my bell
He said nothing. Just leaned forward and pressed a kiss just above my navel. A whisper of breath. A vow unspoken.
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Chapter 180
I wanted to cry,
Not from fear, Not even from grief.
From the way he touched me like I mattered. Like I wasn’t something dangerous or sacred or prophetic.
Just Jiselle.
He helped me into the warm spring water, his arms beneath mine, guiding me down like I was something breakable. I sank slowly, the heat curling around my muscles, loosening the knots I hadn’t realized were there. My eyes fluttered closed.
For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe.
Nate washed me without words.
His hands were steady. Gentle. He cupped water and poured it over my shoulders, over the mess of blood and soot tangled in my hair, down my back. Every motion was deliberate, like he was trying to memorize each part of me that war hadn’t claimed.
I let him.
When he helped me out of the water, he wrapped a thick blanket around me and rubbed warmth back into my arms. He dressed me in one of his old shirts–soft, oversized, familiar–and sat me near the glowing moss with another blanket around my shoulders.
Then he sat in front of me, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees.
We stared at each other for a long time.
It was the first time we’d been alone since the word pregnant had redefined every breath we took.
“Are you going to run?” I asked.
His brows lifted.
“I mean it. If you need to walk away, do it now. Because I can’t do this with someone who’s half–in. Not with what’s coming.”
He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees.
“Jiselle. I ran once. I won’t make that mistake again.”
My throat tightened. “Then say something. Anything. Because I don’t know how to carry this without breaking.”
He reached for my hand. Pulled it to his chest.
“I don’t have the right words. All I have is this: I will protect you. Even from the stars. Even from myself.”
My lips parted. A sound rose in my chest but died before it could form.
He kept holding my hand.
“You’re scared,” he said. “I am too. But we have survived worse. You’ve survived worse. And this-”
He glanced down at my stomach. “This isn’t a curse. Not unless we let it become one.”
I looked away.
“I feel it,” I whispered.
He went still.
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21514 Thu 10 đi vào
Chapter 180
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not just growing. It’s… watching.”
His breath caught.
I closed my eyes, searching for the right words. “Sometimes when I close see it. Not a shape. Not a face. Just a presence. Like something
me trying to remember the world.” ancient is peering out from inside
His hand drifted to my belly again. Slowly. Tentatively
“And how does it feel?”
I opened my eyes. “Curious. Not cruel. But it doesn’t feel like a child. It feels like… a door.”
He frowned. “A door to what?”
“I don’t know.”
The silence stretched between us again. But it wasn’t hollow. It was full. Heavy with everything we didn’t know how to say.
He shifted closer. Kissed my forehead. My temple. The corner of my mouth. Each kiss soft, lingering, like punctuation marks on the quiet.
He laid me back gently, pulling the blanket over us both. His arms wrapped hair. He didn’t speak.
dround me,
one hand resting lightly over my abdomen. His nose brushed my
And for the first time, I let myself be held without apology.
I must have dozed.
When I woke, the cavern glowed faintly with the moss’s light. The spring still trickled quietly in the background. Nate lay beside me, eyes open, watching.
He didn’t smile.
Just leaned down and pressed
And as his lips touched my skin-
kiss low across my stomach. A reverent gesture.
a flicker of violet light sparked beneath the surface.
Just for a heartbeat.
But we both felt it.
His eyes snapped up.
I stared at him.
Neither of us breathed.
Something had awakened.
And it was watching us back.
”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
