The river ran silver under the moonlight, its surface catching the stars and tossing them back in fractured glints. Jace and Nia had wandered far enough from the settlement that the fire's glow was nothing but a blur on the horizon, the music a faint hum riding the breeze. The air was crisp here, damp with earth and the faint tang of river water. Pebbles shifted under their boots with each step, the sound blending with the river's steady murmur.
Nia stopped abruptly. She turned to face him with that half-smile of hers—the one that always suggested she knew more than she should. "You're avoiding my question," she said, voice low and teasing, though the edge in it left him pinned. "What's different about you tonight, Wart? I'm sure something is different."
Jace leaned back against a smooth boulder, arms crossing to give himself a moment. Her eyes caught the moonlight, glinting like amber warmed from within. "Maybe it's just the ale talking," he said, flashing a grin that didn't quite mask the tightness in his chest.
She stepped closer, close enough for him to catch the faint spice of mulled wine still clinging to her breath. "No," she murmured, tilting her head as if lining up a puzzle piece. "It's not the ale. It's… you. First you said I was tired, now it's the ale. But I can tell something's off."
Her focus crawled under his skin, prickling. Still, he kept his gaze steady. "You're fishing, Nia. If you want to know something, just ask."
She laughed softly, a sound with teeth hidden behind it. "Oh, I'm asking. But you're dodging." Another step, her fingers brushing his sleeve—barely there, but deliberate enough to send heat down his arm. "Come on, spill it. What's got you looking like this?"
Something inside him tightened. He could toss back another quip, keep it light, but the way her eyes pinned him—sharp, searching, yet warm—made it hard to. "Guess it's the good life catching up with me," he said, voice uneven. "Don't know why it shows tonight."
Her smile softened, though not enough to let him off. "Hmm… then I'll just have to figure it out myself." Her hand lingered, fingers curling lightly against his arm. "You know, for someone who suggested a 'no more secrets' pact, you're still holding cards close."
Jace let out a short laugh. "And you're good at poking the ones I keep."
Her gaze flicked to his mouth, then back up, mischief dancing at the edges. "Maybe I like the challenge." Her voice dropped, almost brushing his skin. "Or maybe I just like you."
The words lit through him, sudden and sharp, like flint catching spark. His hand found hers before he thought it through. Her fingers were warm, steady, and when she didn't pull back, he tugged her closer. "Careful," he said, his tone rougher now, teasing but edged with something that surprised him. "Keep talking like that and I'll start to believe it."
"Who says I don't mean it?" Her chin tilted up, her breath brushing along his jaw. The space between them vanished, heat and nerves tangled tight.
They sank down together, the pebbles hard and cool beneath them.
Jace shifted, propping himself on one elbow to look at her. Her eyes met his, half-lidded, like she was already plotting her next move. "What?" she asked, voice low, teasing, her lips curling just enough to show she knew exactly what she was doing.
Jace's grin was slow, deliberate. "Just wondering how you look so smug."
"Smug?" Nia arched a brow, shifting to sit up, her hair spilling over one shoulder like dark ink. The movement pulled the loose fabric of her half-open tunic tighter across her chest, and Jace's eyes flicked there before he caught himself. She noticed, of course—her smile sharpened. "You're one to talk. Staring like you've never seen me before."
He chuckled, the sound rough in his throat. "Maybe I haven't. Not like this." His hand reached out, fingers brushing the edge of her tunic where it hung loose. His touch lingered, slow, deliberate, testing the waters. Her skin was warm, soft under the calluses of his fingers, and when she didn't pull away, he let his hand slide lower, tracing the dip where her shoulder met her neck.
Nia's breath hitched, just enough to notice, but she didn't break eye contact. "Careful, hero," she murmured, leaning closer. "You start something like that, you'd better finish it."
"Who says I'm not?" His fingers tightened slightly, pulling her closer until her knees brushed his thighs. He could feel the heat of her, the way her body seemed to hum under his touch, and it sent a jolt straight through him.
She tilted her head, letting her hair fall across his wrist, cool and silken. "You think you can keep up?" Her hand found his chest again, nails grazing lightly over his skin, just enough to make his muscles tense. The sensation was sharp, electric, and he caught her wrist, not hard, but firm enough to hold her there.
"Keep up?" Jace's voice dropped, rougher now, his thumb brushing the pulse point on her wrist. It was fast, betraying her cool facade. "I'm just getting started."
Her laugh was low, almost a purr, and she twisted her wrist free only to slide her hand up his arm, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulder. "Prove it," she whispered, leaning in until her lips hovered just shy of his, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath, the faint spice of wine still lingering.
He didn't kiss her—not yet. Instead, he shifted, rolling them so she was beneath him, her back pressed into the cool pebbles, her hair fanning out like a dark halo. The river's murmur seemed louder now, or maybe it was just the blood rushing in his ears. Her eyes glinted up at him, daring, and he let his weight settle just enough to pin her lightly, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding down her side, fingers skimming the curve of her waist.
"Tease," she said, but her voice was breathy, and when she arched up slightly, her chest brushed his, sending a fresh wave of heat through him. Her hands weren't idle—she tugged at his tunic, pulling it up and over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside. The night air hit his skin, cool and sharp, but her hands were back on him in an instant, warm and deliberate, nails dragging lightly down his chest, leaving faint red lines that stung in the best way.
"Fuck," Jace muttered under his breath, the word slipping out raw and unfiltered. Her touch was relentless, each scrape of her nails a spark that lit him up. He caught her hands again, pinning them above her head with one hand, the other sliding to the hem of her tunic. He tugged it up slowly, exposing the soft plane of her stomach, the dip of her navel, the faint freckles scattered across her skin like stars. His fingers traced them, slow, deliberate, watching the way her muscles tensed under his touch.