"You'd better," she murmured, her head falling against his chest. "Or I'll haunt you." She didn't resist as he lifted her, her small frame light in his arms.
Terya leaned close, her voice low, her breath warm against his ear. "You're collecting quite the harem, healer."
Leon groaned, his face redder. "Not now."
But he didn't let go of Lysette, not yet, her warmth grounding him as the temple's whispers grew louder, the Crimson Veil's hunger pulsing in the air.
Lysette's breathing had steadied, but her body trembled faintly in Leon's arms, her small frame warm against his chest.
Her emerald eyes, still guarded, flicked away the moment she realized how closely she leaned into him.
She pulled back with a huff, brushing dust from her torn white robe, her movements sharp as if to erase the moment of weakness.
"Don't think this means I trust you," she muttered, steadying herself against the bone-carved wall of the Temple of Lysara, her cracked staff clutched tightly.
