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The wind outside had changed sometime after midnight.
Before, it sounded far away, like something moving in the mountains below. Now, it hit the cave mouth so hard it pushed thin lines of snow across the stone floor.
Eirika pulled her wool blanket tighter and immediately regretted moving. The cold had settled in her joints hours ago. Her hands hurt. Even breathing hurt.
Across the cave, Saleh was bent over the fire pit, trying without luck to get a damp piece of wood to burn. The flames flickered once, briefly lighting up his face, then fell back into red coals.
He let out a breath through his nose.
“That sounded disappointed,” Eirika murmured.
Saleh glanced at her over his shoulder. “It was disappointed.”
Despite herself, she gave a small smile. The smile disappeared as soon as another big shiver went through her.
Saleh noticed right away.
Of course he did.
Over the past few weeks, he had started this annoying habit of noticing everything about how she felt physically before she did. If she was tired. Hungry. Had a fever. The stiffness in her sword arm after long days of riding.
He stood up and walked across the cave without a word.
“You should sleep,” he said.
“I would if the mountain stopped trying to kill me.”
“The mountain doesn't take sides.”
“That sounds exactly like something a man who lives on a mountain would say.”
Another shiver cut her off before she could say more. Saleh’s face became serious, not in a dramatic or romantic way, just with simple worry. Somehow, that hit her harder.
Without saying anything else, he took off his outer robes and folded them beside the wall to keep them dry.
Eirika automatically looked away to be polite. Then she immediately realized that looking away made her feel like she was fourteen again.
Annoyed with herself, she looked back.
That turned out to be worse.
Saleh was built like someone shaped by rough places. Broad shoulders. Old scars running across his arms. A strength that didn't seem meant to scare people, but rather to help him survive.
He sat down next to her under the blanket with the same practical focus he used for treating injuries.
“This isn’t necessary,” Eirika said weakly.
“You’re freezing.”
“I’ve survived colder nights than this.”
“You’re shivering so hard I can hear your teeth from across the cave.”
She opened her mouth to argue more, but another tremor shook her body before she could get a word out.
Saleh gave her a very steady look.
Eirika sighed. “Fine.”
The moment his arm went around her waist, warmth spread through her so suddenly it almost hurt. She took a sharp breath.
Saleh had an incredible amount of warmth. Not magic warmth, not completely. Just the steady heat of another living body after hours of cold.
Her pride lasted maybe three seconds.
Then she leaned back completely against his chest.
Neither of them spoke for a while. The storm kept going outside. Snow whispered across the stone. Somewhere deeper in the mountain, wind moved through narrow passages with a low, sad sound.
Inside the blanket, the air slowly warmed up.
Eirika became painfully aware of everything: the rough fabric of Saleh’s tunic under her fingertips, the slow rhythm of his breathing, the careful way he held her, as if afraid too much pressure might startle her.
That carefulness had become its own kind of tension between them.
Every evening for weeks, he had only touched her when he had to. Adjusting armor straps. Checking injuries. Handing her cups of tea by the fire.
Never lingering. Never inappropriate. Always careful.
Which somehow made her think about it a lot more.
She moved slightly, trying to ease the ache in her shoulder.
Saleh took a sharp breath behind her.
Eirika froze.
The silence that followed suddenly felt different. Not dangerous. Just terribly aware.
“Sorry,” she said quietly.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
His voice sounded rougher now.
She stared at the dim cave wall in front of her. “You know, most people aren't this tense while helping someone stay alive.”
A pause followed.
Then, unexpectedly, Saleh said, “Most people are smarter than I am.”
That made her laugh.
Saleh rarely spoke carelessly. Every word from him usually sounded thought about before he said it.
“You regret traveling with me that much?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
His answer came too fast.
Eirika turned slightly in his arms, enough to see his face. The fire had almost gone out completely now, leaving only a faint reddish light across the cave.
Even so, she could see how tired he was. Not physically tired. Something quieter. Longer.
For the first time since she had known him, he looked unsure.
That realization tightened unexpectedly in her chest.
“Saleh,” she said softly.
He looked at her then immediately away again.
That tiny movement affected her much more than confidence would have.
“This is a mistake,” he said quietly.
“Probably.”
“You don’t sound worried.”
Eirika thought about that honestly. “I think I’ve been trying to feel worried for several weeks now.”
That finally made him let out a faint, helpless laugh.
The sound warmed her almost as much as his body had.
Neither moved after that. The distance between them had already disappeared.
Saleh slowly lifted one hand, giving her every chance to stop him, and touched her face.
His palm was rough from years of handling parchment, stone, herbs, and mountain weather. The touch itself was incredibly gentle.
Eirika leaned into it before she could think better of it.
Something in Saleh’s expression changed. Not a loss of control. Not sudden hunger. Simply the exhaustion of holding back.
When he kissed her, it felt less like giving in to passion and more like finally speaking after staying silent for too long.
Careful at first. Hesitant enough that she could have pulled away.
She didn't.
Instead, she grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands and kissed him back hard enough to break whatever composure he still had left.
Saleh made a low sound against her mouth that clearly surprised both of them.
Eirika pulled back just enough to look at him.
“There,” she whispered, breathless. “You sound human after all.”
For one startled second, Saleh just stared at her.
Then he laughed, the sound softly echoing through the cave. It completely lacked his usual calm, and Eirika realized with a sudden, painful clarity that she had never wanted anyone more than she wanted the man looking at her right now.