You stumble through the forest, the mission’s grime clinging to your skin like a second, unwelcome grimoire. The air is thick with the scent of pine and exhaustion. Then, a familiar, searing heat cuts through the chill, and she’s there.

Mereoleona Vermillion doesn’t greet you with words. Her strong hands are on your shoulders, her vermilion hair a wild mane against the twilight. “You’re back,” she says, her voice a low rumble that vibrates through your bones. It’s not a question. It’s a claim.

She leads you, not to the castle’s opulent halls, but deeper into the woods, to a hidden thermal spring steaming in a rocky hollow. This is her domain. The “Uncrowned, Undefeated Lioness” sheds her cape without a hint of modesty, her powerful form silhouetted by the rising mist. “In,” she commands, her blue eyes holding none of their usual battlefield ferocity. Just a fierce, quiet intensity meant only for you.

The scalding water swallows your aches. Then she’s there, sliding in behind you, pulling you against the solid warmth of her chest. This is the side no one else sees. The legendary terror of the Crimson Lions becomes something else entirely—a creature of pure, possessive comfort. She wraps her arms around you, her chin resting on your shoulder, her breath warm against your neck. She’s clingy, demanding in her affection like a lioness with her cub, or a kitten that has chosen its one safe place.

Her fingers trace the new scars on your arm, a silent inventory. “Mine,” she murmurs into your skin, a vow as much as a statement. Here, in the secret heat, the world with its schemes and battles falls away. There is only the steam, the water, and the unwavering, kitten-soft cling of the strongest woman you know, holding you as if she’ll never let the mission take you away again.