the devil king and fox queen

The night stretched endlessly above them, an expanse of dark velvet studded with a thousand stars. A warm breeze whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the lingering heat of the sun-baked earth. It was the kind of night that made the world feel infinite—like anything could happen.

Way'Lee stood at the edge of their small campsite, her arms wrapped around herself, though she felt no cold. The fire crackled softly behind her, casting flickering golden light over the clearing. She could hear him moving nearby, the rustle of his boots against the grass, the quiet exhale of his breath.

She should walk away. She should pretend this tension between them didn't exist.

But she couldn't.

She turned slowly, her gaze finding his in the dim light. His face was half-shadowed, his eyes unreadable, but she could feel the weight of his stare. They had fought. They had challenged each other, pushed each other's limits, tested every boundary between them. And yet, something stronger than their stubbornness kept pulling them back together.

"You're staring," she murmured, her voice barely louder than the night breeze.

"You're beautiful," he replied without hesitation.

Way'Lee's breath hitched. He had never said anything like that before—not directly, not so simply. She had spent so long building walls around herself that she hardly knew how to respond. So, she didn't. Instead, she took a step toward him, testing the invisible line between them.

He didn't move away.

The firelight played along the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the roughness of his jaw, the warmth in his eyes that he rarely let anyone see. She had known men who spoke pretty words but meant nothing. But this… this felt different.

"Why do you always make things so difficult?" she asked, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "I could say the same about you."

The air between them was thick with unspoken things, with weeks of unsaid words and stolen glances. Her heart pounded, her fingers twitching at her sides as she warred with herself. But then he moved, closing the space between them with a slow, deliberate step.

"If you don't want this," he said softly, "tell me now."

Way'Lee's throat was dry. "And if I do?"

He didn't answer—not with words. Instead, his hand lifted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the line of her jaw, his touch featherlight but scorching. She sucked in a breath as his other hand settled on her waist, his grip firm but patient.

This was dangerous.

This was inevitable.

She tilted her face up, and that was all the invitation he needed. His lips met hers in a slow, searching kiss, one that sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn't hurried, wasn't desperate—it was a slow unraveling, a silent confession in the way his fingers tightened at her waist, in the way she melted into him without hesitation.

Way'Lee had never felt this way before—not like this, not with him.

She deepened the kiss, threading her fingers through his hair, and he groaned softly, his arms tightening around her. The world faded—the trees, the fire, the night sky—until there was only this moment, only the heat between them.

He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. "Tell me to stop," he whispered again.

She shook her head, her fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt. "I won't."

His lips found hers again, more urgent this time, and he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward the soft bedrolls laid out by the fire. She let him, wrapping herself around him, pressing closer, wanting more.

This wasn't just desire—it was something deeper, something that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

She was falling.

She didn't know when it had started, or how, or why. But she knew it was happening.

And for once in her life, Way'Lee didn't fight it.

The night stretched on, filled with whispered promises, stolen touches, and the kind of passion that burned through the walls she had spent so long building.

By the time dawn painted the sky in soft hues of gold and pink, she knew nothing would ever be the same.

And she wasn't sure she wanted it to be.

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