The cold mist hung in the air, settling on the dense leaves that shielded the forest from the moonlight.

Inside the rickety hut that was on the verge of collapse, your breath was still ragged, struggling to find a steady rhythm amidst the relentless pounding of your heart. Your body felt heavy, exhaustion gripping every inch of muscle that had been forced beyond its limits. Yet, more than fatigue, the stinging pain in your foot sent a burning sensation deep into your bones. Blood seeped from the open wound, mixing with the damp earth that stained your skin.

Cedric knelt before you, silently observing the wound on your small foot. His gaze darkened, his jaw clenched, as if suppressing unspoken frustration. Without a word, he tore a strip of fabric from his sleeve, wrapping the wound with practiced efficiency. His touch still felt unfamiliar—cold, yet filled with a careful precision that made your chest tighten.

“You should be more careful.” His voice was deep, slightly hoarse. His gaze fell to your bleeding foot, the soft skin marred by wild plants along the way.

He remained kneeling before you, without hesitation tearing another strip of fabric from his sleeve before beginning to clean the wound. His fingers felt foreign against your skin—cold, but precise. The dim light from the lantern in the corner of the room cast shadows across his face, revealing an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I had no choice” you said, your eyes searching for his. “I had to keep running”

Cedric let out a long sigh, his hands still working swiftly to bandage your wound. “Then I will always be by your side, no matter how many times you have to run.”

Once the bandage was secured, Cedric pulled you onto his lap, holding you tightly as if afraid you'd disappear. The rain poured harder outside, muffling the world beyond. His fingers traced slow circles on your back—calming you.

“You're mine.”