Chapter 256 Saving Professor Maelis

Sect Mistress Meng Yao, her obsidian eyes alight with a desperate, rekindled hope, didn’t waste a moment. The instant Alaric Steele confirmed his willingness to aid the Mystic Ice Sect, she sprang into action.

“Grand Elder Xue!” Meng Yao’s voice, usually a calm, icy command, now resonated with an uncharacteristic urgency. “Summon the Core Disciples! The Barrier Guardians! All available martialists to the Outer Citadel walls! Lord Steele brings salvation!”

Her words sent a ripple of astonished excitement through the Ice Heart Chamber. The few senior disciples present, who had witnessed Alaric’s brief, devastating display outside, rushed to obey, their movements quickened by a mixture of awe and disbelief.

‘He truly is their only hope,’ Alaric mused, watching Meng Yao galvanize her sect. ‘And she knows it. Pride has given way to pragmatism. Excellent.’

He gestured towards the components of the ‘Arctic Warden’ barrier array he had brought – large, intricately carved obsidian plinths humming with contained energy, crystalline conduits, and a central focusing crystal that pulsed with a cold, blue light.

“Sect Mistress,” Alaric said, his voice cutting smoothly through the chamber’s sudden flurry of activity. “These components require precise placement along your Citadel’s primary defensive perimeter. Your disciples familiar with the existing wardstones and energy lines would be best suited to assist in their rapid deployment under my direction.”

“Of course, Lord Steele!” Meng Yao agreed instantly. “Elder Suyin! Disciple Lingfeng! You know our ancient ward lines better than anyone. Attend Lord Steele immediately! His instructions are to be followed without question!”

Elder Suyin, a stern-faced woman with silver woven through her black braids, her aura that of a peak Grandmaster Martialist, bowed deeply to Alaric, her usual austerity tinged with undisguised respect. Disciple Lingfeng, a younger woman with surprisingly fiery eyes despite her ice-aspected training, followed suit, her gaze lingering on Alaric with open curiosity.

‘Good. Quick compliance,’ Alaric noted. He then turned to the other artifacts he had brought. The ‘Frostfire Quencher’ orbs and ‘Infernal Nullification’ charms.

“These,” Alaric announced, displaying the potent anti-demonic tools, “are for your frontline defenders. The Orbs unleash concentrated bursts of nullifying cold specifically attuned to counter fire-based demonic energy. The Charms create localized fields that disrupt dark magic. Distribute them to your most skilled martialists, your elders. They will provide a significant edge against the types of demons currently besieging you.”

Meng Yao’s eyes widened further as she sensed the pure, focused power emanating from the artifacts. “Lord Steele… these are… magnificent! The craftsmanship… the sheer targeted potency! They are beyond anything our Sect could produce.”

“Consider them a gesture of goodwill for our new alliance, Sect Mistress,” Alaric replied with a charming smile, though his eyes held a calculating glint. ‘And a taste of what you stand to gain by continued cooperation.’

The distribution was swift. The Sect elders and core disciples received the artifacts with a mixture of reverence and disbelief. Holding these tools, feeling the power thrumming within them, a surge of renewed hope coursed through their weary spirits. Their ancient ice techniques, so effective against most foes, had struggled against the unnatural heat of these new demonic invaders. These artifacts felt like a direct answer to their prayers – prayers now subtly directed towards the powerful young lord who had brought them.

With the disciples mobilized, Alaric, accompanied by Meng Yao, Elder Suyin, and Lingfeng, proceeded to the Outer Citadel walls. The scene there was grim. The ancient ice barriers flickered erratically, large sections glowing with an angry crimson where demonic fire constantly battered them. Disciplined ranks of Ice Sect martialists stood firm, their faces pale but resolute, unleashing flurries of ice shards and freezing gusts of wind, desperately trying to repel the endless waves of flame-wreathed demons.

Alaric didn’t waste time. “Elder Suyin, Disciple Lingfeng, the primary energy conduits for my array need to be anchored to your strongest existing wardstones. Here, here, and here.” He pointed to key locations along the wall, his understanding of defensive formations preternaturally sharp. “The plinths go at these junctures. The focusing crystal, atop the central watchtower.”

Under his precise direction, the Sect disciples worked with frantic speed, their ice-shaping abilities proving surprisingly useful in rapidly carving out emplacements for the obsidian plinths. Alaric himself moved like a whirlwind, his hands a blur as he etched supplementary runes onto the plinths, calibrating them to the unique energy signatures of the Ice Heart Citadel and the bitter cold of the valley. He didn’t use grand spells, just focused, efficient bursts of mana, his control absolute.

Within two hours, a timeframe that would have seemed impossibly short for erecting any conventional barrier, let alone one of this complexity, the ‘Arctic Warden’ array was in place. The final focusing crystal was set atop the Citadel’s highest tower, pulsing with a cold, steady light.

“Stand back,” Alaric commanded. He placed his hands on the central plinth at the main gate, channeling his own potent Grandmaster-level mana into the array, kickstarting the energy flow.

A low hum resonated through the Citadel. The obsidian plinths glowed with intricate azure runes. The focusing crystal pulsed brighter, sending out beams of shimmering blue light that connected with each plinth, forming a vast, interconnected web of energy.

Then, with a sound like fracturing glaciers, a new barrier shimmered into existence, enveloping the entire Ice Heart Citadel. It was a dome of pure, crystalline energy, far more solid, far more potent than the flickering remnants of the ancient ice wards. Runes of immense power swirled within its depths, radiating an aura of absolute, chilling defense.

The demons attacking the old barriers suddenly found their fiery assaults and dark magic impacting this new, formidable shield. Their attacks sizzled and dissipated harmlessly against its surface. A few of the larger flame brutes, charging recklessly, slammed into the barrier and were instantly flash-frozen, their infernal heat extinguished by the array’s ‘Frostfire Repulsion’ field.

A collective gasp of awe, then a deafening cheer, erupted from the Ice Sect disciples. They stared at the new barrier, at the effortlessly powerful young man who had conjured it, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten, replaced by overwhelming relief and profound reverence.

“It… it holds!” Elder Suyin whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Such power…” Lingfeng breathed, her fiery eyes now fixed on Alaric with something akin to worship. ‘He is like a god of ice and storm himself!’

Sect Mistress Meng Yao simply stared, speechless. This barrier… it was a work of art, a fortress of magic beyond her comprehension. And he had erected it in mere hours. Her decision to ally with him, to trust him, felt profoundly, undeniably right.

‘He saved us,’ she thought, her heart swelling with a gratitude so intense it almost felt like… something more. ‘He saved my Sect. My people. My home.’ Her gaze on Alaric softened further, the last vestiges of her Sect Mistress’s icy reserve melting under the warmth of his power and her burgeoning, confusing admiration.

Alaric surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction. The ‘Arctic Warden’ was stable, its power drawn directly from the ambient cold of the valley, amplified by its own internal energy cycle, making it incredibly resilient and self-sustaining. ‘Good. This should hold them for a while. Now, for the other matter.’

He turned to Meng Yao. “Sect Mistress, the Citadel is secure for now. However, I sensed another pocket of… activity… further down the valley. A smaller encampment, under heavy assault. Your guest palace, I presume?” He already knew, of course, from Natasha’s briefing. He was merely feigning discovery.

Meng Yao’s face paled. “The refugees from Eloriath! Professor Maelis and her group! I had almost forgotten in the chaos… Yes, they are housed in the Western Guest Palace! Are they… are they alright?”

“They are under attack,” Alaric stated calmly. “And it appears their defenses are… less formidable than yours were.” He didn’t mention that he suspected Maelis, an Archmage, was likely the only reason they hadn’t been overrun already.

Without waiting for Meng Yao’s reply, Alaric turned to Kai, who had landed patiently nearby. He leaped onto the Roc’s back. “Sect Mistress, ensure your disciples utilize the artifacts I provided to clear any demons remaining near the Citadel walls. I will see to the safety of your… guests.”

Before Meng Yao could even form a response, Kai let out a piercing cry and launched into the sky, a streak of azure lightning heading west down the valley, towards the besieged guest palace.

‘Professor Maelis,’ Alaric thought, a predatory glint in his ruby eyes as Kai effortlessly cut through the frigid air. ‘An Archmage. Master of Magic Martial Arts. A body honed by combat, radiating power and… a rather distracting mature allure. Rescuing her from peril… an excellent opportunity to make a… lasting impression.’ He wasn’t concerned about Noah or the other alchemists. They were irrelevant. Maelis was the prize.

The Western Guest Palace of the Mystic Ice Sect was, by any normal standard, a fortress in itself. Carved from the same pale stone and enchanted ice as the main Citadel, its walls were thick, its gates reinforced. But it lacked the ancient, deep-seated wards of the Ice Heart, and it was currently a scene of desperate, chaotic battle.

Professor Maelis was a whirlwind of contained fury. Her dark hair, usually impeccably braided, was now wild, escaping its confines as she moved with blurring speed. She wore no armor, only practical, dark leather training gear that clung to her athletic, surprisingly voluptuous figure, accentuating the powerful muscles of her arms and legs, the toned curve of her stomach, and the impressive swell of her breasts that even her disciplined breathing couldn’t entirely conceal.

Her mastery of Magic Martial Arts was on full display. Her fists and feet, wreathed in crackling arcane energy, slammed into demonic flesh with the force of siege engines. A Dragon Talon Kick sent a hulking Flame Mauler Demon flying backwards, its chest caved in. A Phoenix Wing Block deflected a barrage of shadow spikes, the impact sending shivers up her arm but not breaking her stance. She moved like a dancer, a warrior, a force of nature, her Archmage-level power channeled through her own body, each strike precise and devastating.

But she was outnumbered. Horribly.

Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of demons swarmed the guest palace courtyard. Flame-wreathed brutes, agile shadow stalkers, and grotesque, acid-spitting abominations. And leading them were three particularly nasty specimens – Master-level Demon Commanders, each radiating significant power.

Behind Maelis, huddled near the palace entrance, were the alchemists and artificers she was desperately trying to protect. Noah, his face pale but his eyes burning with a fierce determination, was at the forefront of this smaller group, hurling his alchemically charged pills with surprising accuracy. Explosions of corrosive acid, concussive force, and even temporary freezing mist erupted amongst the demonic ranks, disrupting their advance, buying Maelis precious seconds.

‘Damn it, Noah, stay back!’ Maelis mentally cursed, parrying a flaming axe blow from a brute while simultaneously kicking a shadow stalker in the throat. ‘Your little bombs are useful, but you’re too exposed!’

The other alchemists and artificers were less… proactive. They cowered, occasionally throwing a poorly aimed defensive trinket or a vial of weak holy water, their faces masks of terror. They were scholars, not warriors. Maelis knew her primary duty was to keep them alive, but it was stretching her Archmage reserves to their absolute limit. Every demon she felled, two more seemed to take its place.

“Professor! To your left!” Noah yelled, just as a particularly large Acid Spitter Demon lumbered towards Maelis’s flank, its grotesque maw already gathering a glob of sizzling green venom.

Maelis whirled, her hand crackling with focused mana. Iron Fist Impact! Her strike, aimed at the Spitter’s soft underbelly, should have been devastating. But she was tired. Her mana channels ached from the constant exertion. The blow landed, but lacked its usual overwhelming force. The Spitter roared in pain but wasn’t incapacitated. It retaliated, spewing its acid.

Maelis leaped back, dodging the worst of the spray, but a few drops splashed onto her arm, searing through her leather bracer, burning her skin. She hissed in pain, momentarily distracted.

It was the opening the Demon Commanders had been waiting for. The three of them – a hulking, obsidian-skinned warrior wielding a jagged flame-wreathed sword, a lithe, whip-fast assassin wreathed in shadow, and a bloated, grotesque sorcerer conjuring bolts of necrotic energy – surged forward, their attacks converging on Maelis.

‘This is bad,’ Maelis thought, her heart sinking. She could take one, maybe even two, but all three at once, while she was already fatigued and protecting the others…

Just as the three commanders were about to unleash their combined assault, a piercing cry echoed from the sky above.

WHOOSH!

A blur of azure and wind slammed into the courtyard like a meteor. Kai, Alaric’s Roc, landed with earth-shattering force directly between Maelis and the attacking Demon Commanders. Its massive wings beat once, unleashing a Tempest Wing Gust that sent the three commanders staggering backwards, their attacks momentarily disrupted.

Before anyone could fully react, Alaric leaped from Kai’s back, landing gracefully beside Professor Maelis. He wore a calm, almost bored expression, but his ruby eyes held a cold, predatory light.

“Professor Maelis,” Alaric said, his voice cutting through the sudden lull in the battle. “You appear to be having a rather… spirited disagreement… with the local fauna.”

Maelis stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Alaric? What in the blazes are you doing here?” Then, her gaze fell upon Kai, and her jaw dropped slightly. “And what is THAT?”

“A friend,” Alaric replied casually, gesturing towards Kai, who let out another imperious shriek, its sapphire eyes daring any demon to approach. “And I’m here because your Sect Mistress seems to be under the impression that her guests require… rescuing.”

He turned his attention to the three Demon Commanders, who were recovering from Kai’s initial blast, their expressions now filled with rage and surprise at this unexpected intervention.

“Now,” Alaric said, cracking his knuckles, a wolfish grin spreading across his handsome face, “shall we continue this party? Or would you prefer to scurry back to whatever hellhole you crawled out of?”

The obsidian-skinned warrior roared, charging forward, its flame sword blazing. “Insolent human! You will die for your interference!”

Alaric didn’t even flinch. He simply raised a hand. A shimmering barrier of azure energy, infused with the cold power of the ‘Arctic Warden’ array he had brought, erupted around the entire guest palace courtyard, trapping the demons within, and sealing Maelis and her group safely inside with him.

“Barrier up,” Alaric stated calmly, as if he did this every day. “Now, Professor,” he turned back to Maelis, his eyes sweeping over her battle-worn, sweat-slicked, and undeniably alluring form, “let’s clean up this mess together, shall we? It’s been too long since we had a proper… practical lesson.” He offered her a charming, dangerous smile. ‘A perfect opportunity to show her just how much I’ve grown… in all respects.’

Professor Maelis stared at Alaric, her mind still trying to process his sudden, dramatic arrival and the effortless way he had erected a powerful defensive barrier around them. The flame-wreathed Demon Commander, momentarily stunned by the azure shield, roared in fury and slammed its fiery sword against it. The barrier shimmered but held firm, the impact barely causing a ripple.

‘That barrier… it’s far stronger than anything the Sect possesses,’ Maelis thought, her Archmage senses analyzing the intricate weave of cold energy and arcane runes. ‘And he just… conjured it? Effortlessly?’

“Professor?” Alaric prompted, his ruby eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched her reaction. “Lost in thought? Or simply admiring my handiwork?”

Maelis flushed slightly, shaking her head to clear it. “Alaric… how…?”

“Later, Professor,” Alaric said, his gaze shifting back to the three Demon Commanders, who were now joined by a fresh wave of lesser demons pouring into the courtyard from the palace’s breached outer defenses, all now trapped within his barrier. “Right now, we have pests to exterminate.”

He didn’t wait for her reply. With a speed that belied his calm demeanor, Alaric launched himself towards the obsidian-skinned warrior. He didn’t use grand spells. Instead, his body became wreathed in faint elemental energies – wind around his feet for speed, ice hardening his forearms like bracers, sparks of fire dancing around his knuckles. The Lion-Spirit Dance, his unique fusion of magic martial arts and beast essence.

The obsidian warrior swung its massive flame sword in a brutal arc. Alaric ducked under the blow with fluid grace, his fist, crackling with fire and ice, slamming into the warrior’s unarmored side. Thunderous Frostfire Fist! The impact sent a visible shockwave through the demon’s body, a mixture of searing heat and biting cold causing it to roar in pain and stagger.

‘Magic martial arts?’ Maelis watched, her eyes widening further. ‘He’s infused his strikes with elemental power! And that speed… that control… it’s far beyond what he showed at the academy. He’s using it like… like I do, but with elemental fusion!’ Her own mastery of Magic Martial Arts was profound, but Alaric’s application, combining it with raw elemental power and that strange, bestial aura, was something entirely new and unsettlingly effective.

The shadow-wreathed assassin Demon Commander blurred, attempting to flank Alaric, its movements like smoke. Before it could strike, Kai, Alaric’s Roc, let out a piercing Cyclone Shriek. The sonic force slammed into the assassin, disrupting its shadow form, causing it to stumble and solidify for a crucial instant.

In that instant, Maelis reacted. She had been momentarily stunned, but her Archmage instincts were too deeply ingrained. “Dragon’s Breath Palm!” She thrust her own palm forward, a concentrated blast of pure arcane force erupting from it, slamming into the disoriented shadow assassin, sending it tumbling backwards.

“Good timing, Professor!” Alaric called out, delivering a spinning Azure Gale Kick to the obsidian warrior’s head, dazing it further. “Still got those reflexes!”

Maelis felt a surge of adrenaline, the familiar thrill of combat returning, amplified by the unexpected presence of her former, now terrifyingly powerful, student. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint my best pupil, Alaric!” she retorted, a fierce grin spreading across her face.

They fell into a natural rhythm, Alaric and Maelis fighting back-to-back, their movements surprisingly synchronized despite never having sparred together in this manner. Alaric’s elemental martial arts were a whirlwind of fire, ice, and wind, each strike precise and devastating. Maelis, her own Magic Martial Arts flowing with effortless grace and power, became a blur of motion, her fists and feet shattering demonic armor and bone.

Kai, the Azure Roc, provided aerial support, its Tempest Wing Gusts scattering lesser demons, its Feather Vortex Darts impaling any that tried to interfere with Alaric and Maelis.

Noah, from the relative safety of the palace entrance behind Alaric’s barrier, watched the display with a mixture of awe and gnawing envy. ‘Maelis… she’s incredible. And Alaric Steele… Grandmaster Mage? He’s fighting alongside her like an equal, against Master-level Demon Commanders!’ His own achievements, reaching Grand Mage with his alchemical system, felt suddenly insignificant. He clutched a newly brewed explosive pellet, his knuckles white. ‘I need to contribute. I need to show them… show her… I’m not useless.’

The bloated sorcerer Demon Commander, seeing its companions being overwhelmed, began to chant, dark necrotic energy gathering around it. “Feast of Rot! Plague Swarm!”

Before it could unleash its vile spell, Alaric spun, his hand outstretched. “Sovereign’s Silence!” A pulse of azure energy, imbued with a hint of the Azure Spirit Lion’s dominant will, slammed into the sorcerer. It wasn’t a destructive attack, but a targeted disruption of its mana channels. The sorcerer choked, its spell fizzling, its dark energy dissipating. Alaric then followed up with a casual Inferno Burst, engulfing the now defenseless demon in searing flames, its screams quickly silenced.

“One down,” Alaric commented, turning back to the obsidian warrior, who was now reeling under Maelis’s relentless assault.

“Two,” Maelis grunted, delivering a final, crushing Phoenix Talon Strike to the warrior’s chest, shattering its core.

Only the shadow assassin remained, now facing Alaric, Maelis, and Kai. It hissed, its form flickering, attempting to melt back into the shadows.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Alaric smirked. He clapped his hands together. “Domain of Binding Light!” A sphere of pure, radiant light – not holy, but concentrated arcane light – erupted around the assassin, trapping it, its shadow form sizzling unpleasantly.

Kai let out a triumphant cry and unleashed a final, devastating Azure Sky Rend, its wind-infused talons tearing through the trapped assassin, leaving only dissolving wisps of shadow.

The courtyard fell silent, save for their ragged breathing and the dying crackles of elemental energy. The lesser demons, seeing their commanders annihilated, shrieked in terror and tried to flee, only to slam futilely against Alaric’s impenetrable barrier. Alaric and Maelis, with Kai’s help, made short work of them, a swift, brutal cleanup.

Maelis leaned against a broken pillar, her chest heaving, sweat plastering her dark hair to her face. Her leather attire was torn in several places, revealing glimpses of her toned, voluptuous physique. She looked utterly exhausted, but her eyes, when she looked at Alaric, shone with a mixture of disbelief, grudging admiration, and a strange, unfamiliar warmth.

“Alaric Steele,” she panted, shaking her head. “You are… full of surprises.” She gestured towards the barrier. “That magic… that beast… your combat skill… You’re not just a Grandmaster, are you? That felt… stronger.”

Alaric offered a casual shrug, though his eyes gleamed. “Just picked up a few new tricks, Professor. One learns to adapt in these… interesting times.”

He deliberately let his gaze linger on the torn sections of her leather armor, the way it clung to her sweat-slicked skin, the enticing curves it failed to conceal. He moved closer, feigning concern.

“You’re injured, Professor,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. His hand reached out, seemingly to inspect a tear near her hip, but his fingers brushed deliberately against the bare skin beneath.

Maelis shivered, a jolt of unexpected electricity shooting through her. His touch was light, almost accidental, yet it felt incredibly potent. She should pull away, maintain professional distance, but her body felt strangely reluctant. His proximity, his power, the lingering adrenaline of battle… it was a heady mix.

“Just… a few scrapes, Alaric,” she managed, her voice slightly breathless. ‘Gods, he’s standing so close. He smells of… ozone and something uniquely… him.’

Just as Alaric was about to perhaps press his advantage further, a guttural roar echoed from beyond the barrier, far more powerful, far more menacing than anything they had faced so far. The ground trembled.

A shadow fell over the courtyard.

Alaric and Maelis looked up simultaneously. Hovering just outside the azure barrier, its massive, bat-like wings beating slowly, was a demon of terrifying proportions. It was easily the size of a small house, its skin like charred obsidian, its eyes burning with malevolent intelligence. A crown of jagged black horns adorned its grotesque head, and it wielded a colossal greatsword wreathed in black flames. This was no mere commander. This was an Archdemon.

‘Damn it,’ Alaric thought, his good mood evaporating. ‘Where did that come from? My barrier is strong, but against a direct assault from an Archdemon… it will strain the local power source quickly.’

“Archdemon!” Maelis breathed, her face paling. She instinctively moved closer to Alaric, her hand reaching for her own weapon, though she knew her Archmage power, already depleted, would be sorely tested against such a foe.

The Archdemon outside the barrier let out another roar, then raised its flaming greatsword. It began to gather dark energy, preparing a devastating attack aimed directly at the barrier section protecting Maelis.

“It’s targeting you, Professor!” Alaric yelled, pushing her roughly to the side. “Get behind Kai!”

Maelis stumbled, surprised by his sudden force. She looked back, her eyes widening in horror as she saw Alaric step directly into the path of the impending attack. The Archdemon’s sword slammed down, not with physical force, but unleashing a concentrated beam of pure annihilating dark energy.

“Alaric, no!” Maelis screamed.

Alaric didn’t try to block it with a spell. He didn’t have time. He threw up his arms, channeling all his remaining ambient mana and a surge of the Azure Spirit Lion’s defensive essence directly into his own body, bracing for impact. Sovereign’s Iron Body, a technique from the Royal Archives he had been practicing, designed to temporarily harden the user’s physique to an incredible degree.

The beam of dark energy struck him squarely in the chest.

An explosion of black light and raw force erupted. Alaric grunted, a sound torn from his throat, his body shuddering violently. The force of the blow was immense, far greater than he anticipated.

His hastily erected Iron Body technique cracked, his internal organs felt like they were being pulped. He felt a searing pain, then a wave of blackness threatened to engulf him.

But he held. Barely.

The impact, however, sent him flying backwards like a broken doll. He crashed heavily into Maelis, who hadn’t managed to get fully clear. Their bodies collided, and the momentum sent them both tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap.

Alaric landed heavily on top of Maelis. His head swam, black spots dancing before his eyes. He coughed, a raw, metallic taste filling his mouth.

He could feel the warm, soft give of Maelis’s body beneath him, her surprisingly ample breasts cushioning his fall against her chest, her hips cradling his. The scent of her – sweat, leather, and something uniquely feminine – filled his nostrils, cutting through the acrid smell of demonic magic.

“Ugh… Alaric… are you… alright?” Maelis gasped, pinned beneath him, her own breath knocked out of her. She could feel his hard, muscular body pressed against hers, his weight surprisingly heavy, his breath hot against her neck.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a confusing mixture of fear for him, shock at their intimate position, and a strange, unwelcome surge of… awareness.

His thigh was pressed firmly between hers, his groin intimately nestled against her stomach. Even in his injured state, his physical presence was overwhelming.

‘Damn… that actually hurt,’ Alaric thought, his vision slowly clearing. ‘Archdemon power… no joke. But… this landing spot… not entirely unpleasant.’

He tried to push himself up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he slumped back down, his head resting for a moment in the surprisingly soft valley between Maelis’s breasts. ‘Definitely not unpleasant.’

He could feel their softness, their warmth, even through her torn leather. It was an island of unexpected comfort in a sea of pain.

Maelis felt his head nestle against her chest, his hair brushing against her skin. A jolt, sharp and unexpected, shot through her. She should push him off, demand he get up, but her arms felt strangely weak, her body unwilling to break the contact. His closeness, despite the circumstances, felt… solid. Reassuring.

And the feel of his muscular thigh pressed so intimately between hers… she blushed furiously, suddenly acutely aware of every point of contact between their bodies. ‘Get a grip, Maelis!’ she chided herself.

‘He’s injured! He just saved your life!’ But the rational thought did little to quell the sudden, chaotic storm of sensations and emotions raging within her.