The Hollow had never felt so still.
Not dead.
Not silent.
But still—like the world had exhaled and was, for once, content to hold its breath.
For the first time since flames had crowned her vengeance and blood had sanctified her return, Vex Rhiadne declared a truce—not with kingdoms, not with men, but with the war that burned behind her eyes. Just for today.
"For you," she said softly to Rhydir that morning, her voice lower than a whisper but brighter than any promise. "Today is yours. Whatever you want."
Rhydir, crownless prince and half-wild wolf of Velgrave, blinked at her like she'd offered him the moon.
"You're serious?"
Vex's lips curled. "As a coup."
He was still shirtless, towel slung over his shoulder, hair damp from training—less 'royal emissary of politics' and more 'dangerous heartthrob who could bench press his enemies.' And yet, in that moment, he looked oddly boyish.
"I thought we'd be discussing war strategies," he said. "Or skinning diplomats alive."
"Tomorrow," she said. "Today you're off-duty. And I'm yours."
He grinned, slow and wicked. "Then I want to cook for you."
She blinked. "Cook?"
"Don't give me that tone, vampire queen. I've made meals before."
"You've incinerated boar meat over a fire pit while growling at the moon."
"Exactly," he said proudly. "Wolf food. You've been eating Hollow cuisine for too long. Too many gold forks. Not enough dirt and grit."
She arched an elegant brow. "So… what? You plan to seduce me with burnt meat and testosterone?"
"Worked on you, didn't it?" He winked.
**
The Hollow's outer courtyard had never seen anything like it.
No polished kitchens, no hovering servants. Just a cracked stone hearth, a fire pit Rhydir insisted on lighting himself (with Vex's flame reluctantly offered at the last second after he failed three times), and the smell of spiced meat sizzling on makeshift skewers.
"This is ridiculous," Vex muttered, poking at one of the slabs of charred meat with her nail.
"It's authentic," he said. "You're the one who promised me a day. No ruling, no vengeance, just us."
"I didn't think it would involve being smoked alive like a sacrificial offering."
"Don't pretend you're not enjoying this."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Vex tried to look unimpressed. The sunlight caught her cheekbones, her hair tumbling over one shoulder as she leaned in. "So this is your seduction plan? Charred meat and reckless ambition?"
He grinned and handed her a dripping skewer. "And yet here you are."
She bit into it—grimaced—and then sighed. "It's awful."
"You wound me."
"But it's yours," she added, licking grease from her lips, "and that counts for something."
He watched her with a look that wasn't flirtatious anymore. It was softer. Hungrier in a different way.
"How is it," he said quietly, "that you make me want things I never let myself have?"
Vex tilted her head. "Like?"
"This. Us. Peace. You sitting here pretending to be civilized."
She laughed, low and warm. "Don't get used to it."
"Oh, I won't. I fully expect bloodshed tomorrow."
**
After the meal—and a few more jokes at his culinary expense—Vex stood, brushing soot from her dress. "Where to next, wolf?"
Rhydir's silver eyes gleamed. "There's a spring below the cliffs. I've seen it on patrol—secluded, warm. I want to swim with you."
She gave him a look. "Naked?"
"Obviously."
"Bold."
"Are you objecting?"
"…I'm already walking."
**
The spring was hidden beneath a jagged fold of stone, steam rising in soft wisps from its surface. The water shimmered with a faint glow—something natural, something magical. Quiet, protected.
Vex stared at it for a long moment, then began undoing the clasps of her armor.
Rhydir turned, respectfully—but not fast enough to miss the sharp curve of her back, the pale firelight of her skin.
He stripped down to his trousers and slipped into the spring first. The water was hot, a lazy kind of warmth that invited stillness.
When Vex slid in beside him, hair braided, eyes bare of kohl, he didn't speak.
She wasn't the queen in that moment. No vengeance. No fire. Just a woman with ancient pain and dangerous beauty.
They didn't talk at first.
They just floated near each other, the silence filled with breath and water and the brush of limbs under the surface.
Eventually, she said, "This might be the first time in months I haven't thought about war."
Rhydir smiled. "Then I've done something right."
Her eyes closed. "Or something terribly wrong."
He swam closer, hand brushing her waist. "Doesn't matter. You're here. With me."
"I always will be," she said softly. "Until you tell me not to."
"I'd never."
"You might. One day. When it gets too hard. When they come for you."
"I've had enough of kings and crowns," he said. "If they want me back, they can choke on their own diplomacy. You, Vex—" he cupped her jaw—"you are the only fire I'll follow."
She leaned in, brushing her lips to his cheek. "That fire will never burn you."
He met her gaze, solemn now. "It already has."
**
Later, they sat on the stones at the edge of the water, wrapped in a shared cloak, his arm around her shoulders.
"Do you regret it?" she asked suddenly.
"What?"
"Us. This."
He looked at her like she was mad. "Vex. You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me."
"I'm also the most dangerous."
He grinned. "Exactly."
She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."
"And yours."
"You say that like I won't one day eat you alive."
He shrugged. "I say that hoping you will."
She laughed, head resting against his shoulder.
The stars blinked above them.
For a brief moment, the world was simple again.
Just fire and water. Wolf and flame. No thrones. No blood.
Only love, reckless and real.
......….......…
The air had cooled, but the heat between them lingered—slow-burning, inevitable.
Rhydir traced a damp curl of her hair where it clung to her neck, watching how her skin reacted to his touch. The slight shiver. The way her breath caught for just a moment before she masked it again.
"You always do that," he murmured.
"Do what?"
"Pretend you don't want more."
Vex tilted her head toward him, expression unreadable in the moonlight. "And you always look at me like I'm the only thing that matters."
"You are," he said simply.
She studied him for a long moment.
His smile turned lazy, warm. "Tell me."
She kissed him—not with hunger, but with purpose. Like she was answering a question neither of them dared ask until now. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, until there was no space between them—just shared breath and mutual surrender.
His hand skimmed the curve of her waist beneath the cloak, finding skin and silence and something that felt suspiciously like home. "You're sure?" he asked, voice low against her lips.
"Rhydir," she said, eyes flashing. "If I didn't want you, you'd be dead by now."
That pulled a huff of a laugh from him. "Gods, I love you."
She kissed his jaw, his neck, then whispered in his ear, "Then shut up and show me."
They moved together like they'd been doing this for lifetimes. No rush. No proving. Just the quiet ache of two people finally letting go—of fear, of guilt, of the war outside the cliffs. The water lapped around them, heated by her fire, and his hands found her in the mist with reverence.
There were no crowns here. No enemies. No blood.
Only her back arching against his chest, only his breath catching against her skin. The way he held her after, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pressing kisses to the hollow of her throat like he couldn't believe she was real.
She turned in his arms, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "Still think charred meat was a good seduction plan?"
He smirked. "It worked, didn't it?"
She pretended to groan, hiding her smile against his shoulder. "Don't get cocky."
"I think we've already passed that point."
She hit him lightly, then kissed the spot.
And beneath the cliffs, under the watchful stars, they stayed like that—two monsters in love, not trying to be anything else. Just them.
For once, it was enough.