Chapter Four

  The weeks passed in a blur of quiet routine and mounting tension. Eren continued his covert mission, moving carefully through Marley, gathering information discreetly. Each day, he would slip out of the cabin early in the morning, blending into the bustling streets of Liberio or the military camps, his mind focused on the plan for the Rumbling. He met with contacts, listened in on military briefings, and pieced together the details he needed for the impending raid.

  But no matter where his mission took him during the day, Eren always returned to the cabin in the woods by nightfall. To Aurora.

  The small cabin had become their sanctuary, hidden away from the rest of the world. Aurora tended to it while Eren was gone, making it feel more like a home with each passing day. She had started a garden in the back, planting herbs and vegetables she had foraged from the surrounding woods. It wasn’t much, but it gave her something to focus on, something to nurture.

  The days were quiet and peaceful, a far cry from the life she had known as a slave for the Tybur family. But the skills she had honed during those years—the cooking, the cleaning, the gardening—now served her and Eren well. Aurora made sure the cabin was always tidy, the bed made, and the small space felt warm and inviting when Eren returned. It was a simple life, but it was theirs.

  Aurora had also begun to forage and fish in the nearby lake, collecting wild berries, mushrooms, and small fish that she used to prepare meals. She had grown talented at making something out of nothing, using the few ingredients they had to create delicious meals. It wasn’t much, but for Eren, it tasted like gourmet.

  Every evening when he returned, exhausted and weighed down by the burdens of his mission, Aurora would be there, waiting with a warm meal and a soft smile. She would serve him whatever she had prepared that day, and Eren would eat in silence, his eyes occasionally drifting to her, filled with something he didn’t quite know how to put into words.

  The meals she made—simple stews, roasted fish, wild herbs mixed with rice—were the best Eren had ever tasted. It wasn’t just the food itself, though it was clear that Aurora had a talent for cooking. It was the care she put into it, the way she made sure he had something to eat after long days of working in the shadows, always watching his back, always moving with the knowledge that Marley could discover him at any moment.

  “Thank you,” Eren would say quietly after every meal, his voice soft but filled with genuine appreciation.

  Aurora would smile at him, her heart warming at the simple act of sharing these moments with him. “You’re welcome, Eren,” she would reply, her voice gentle. She didn’t need to say more—her actions spoke for themselves.

  Despite the tension that surrounded them, despite the ever-present danger of discovery, these moments in the cabin felt almost… peaceful. Eren would sit at the small wooden table, his body tired but his mind somehow lighter in Aurora’s presence. The weight of the world, of his plans, didn’t feel so crushing when he was here, when she was beside him.

  As the weeks passed, Aurora found herself slipping into a rhythm—cooking, tending to the garden, foraging for food, and waiting for Eren to come home. It was a far cry from the life she had known in the Tybur household, where she had been worked to the bone, her every movement watched, her every action scrutinized. But here, she had the freedom to work at her own pace, to put her skills to use for someone who appreciated her.

  Aurora had always been talented with her hands. She had done everything in the Tybur mansion—cooking, cleaning, laundry, sewing, even tending to their massive gardens. They had worked her like a dog, treating her as nothing more than a tool to keep their household running. But now, those skills were coming in handy. Now, she was using them to build something of her own. Something for her and Eren.

  She found solace in the work. The garden she had started was beginning to bear fruit, small but meaningful signs of growth. Each time she plucked a ripe vegetable or caught a fish from the lake, she felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory, but it meant the world to her.

  And Eren… he noticed. He always noticed.

  One evening, as they sat together after dinner, the soft glow of the lantern casting warm light over the cabin, Eren looked at Aurora, his green eyes thoughtful.

  “You’ve made this place feel like home,” he said quietly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

  Aurora glanced at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his voice. “I just wanted to make things easier for you,” she replied, her hands folding in her lap. “You’re out there every day… doing so much. I thought if I could make this place… a little more comfortable, it would help.”

  Eren’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of his mission seemed to lift from his shoulders. “It does,” he admitted. “More than you know.”

  Aurora’s chest tightened with emotion. She had been through so much—lost so much. The world had been cruel to her, stripping away everything she cared about. But here, with Eren, things felt different. He cared about her. He valued her. And she found herself caring about him more deeply with each passing day.

  They sat together in the quiet, the flickering light casting shadows on the walls, and Aurora couldn’t help but think about how much her life had changed since Eren had come back into it. She had been on the brink of despair, ready to give up on any hope of a better life. But Eren had saved her—not just from the Tybur family, but from the darkness that had threatened to consume her.

  He had given her something she hadn’t had in years: a sense of belonging.

  And despite the terror she felt about his plans for the Rumbling, despite the anxiety that twisted her stomach when she thought about the destruction he would unleash, she couldn’t turn away from him. Eren was the one person in the world who had shown her kindness, who had made her feel like she mattered. She couldn’t walk away from him—not now, not after everything they had been through.

  Aurora looked at him, her voice soft but filled with conviction. “Eren… no matter what happens, I’m here with you. I want you to know that.”

  Eren’s eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, the intensity in his gaze softened into something more vulnerable. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave her said it all.

  Thank you.

  They sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the cabin surrounding them, as the world outside continued to prepare for the storm that was coming. But for now, in this moment, they had each other.

  And that was enough.

  …

  The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the secluded clearing where Aurora and Eren had made their temporary home. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves of the trees, rustling softly around them. Aurora knelt in the small garden she had started behind the cabin, her fingers working gently in the soil as she carefully tended to the herbs and vegetables she had planted.

  She loved this part of the day, the calmness of working with her hands, the scent of fresh earth and growing plants filling her senses. It reminded her of the times she had spent with her mother back in Shiganshina. Nadia had been a skilled herbalist, and Aurora had learned everything she could from her—how to mix herbs for remedies, how to recognize plants that could heal, and how to nurture life from the soil.

  Those memories were bittersweet now, especially after everything she had lost, but gardening brought her peace. And it was something useful she could do here, to make their small haven feel more like a home. She thought of how her skills in herbalism might be able to help Eren more. Perhaps she could gather herbs and create elixirs that might relieve the exhaustion Eren must feel after long days of gathering intelligence and preparing for his mission.

  Aurora’s thoughts wandered as she dug gently around the roots of a small plant, her mind on Eren as she worked. She wanted to be more useful to him, to contribute to the fight in any way she could. She wasn’t a soldier—she wasn’t like him, trained in combat and strategy—but her mother had always said that healing was its own kind of strength.

  As she worked, her gaze drifted toward Eren, who was standing a few yards away, chopping firewood for the cabin. He had removed his shirt in the heat, and his hair was tied back in a loose bun, leaving strands to frame his face. Sweat glistened on his skin as he swung the axe with precision, the muscles in his arms and chest rippling with each powerful movement.

  Aurora’s heart skipped a beat as she watched him, her cheeks growing warm. She quickly looked away, embarrassed by the way her thoughts had strayed, but she couldn’t help sneaking another glance. There was something about seeing him like this—focused, strong, unguarded in a way that made her stomach flutter. She had known Eren as a boy, but the man in front of her was different. He was powerful, determined, and even though she knew the weight he carried, there was a certain gentleness in the way he always treated her.

  She tried to focus on the herbs in front of her, but her eyes kept drifting back to him. The way his muscles tensed as he lifted the axe, the steady rhythm of his movements. The heat from the sun didn’t help either—her face was burning, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was from the temperature.

  Stop staring, she chastised herself silently, feeling her pulse quicken. But even as she scolded herself, she couldn’t stop her gaze from wandering back to him. There was something magnetic about Eren, something that made it hard to look away.

  Suddenly, Eren paused in his work, the axe still raised in his hand. He turned his head slightly, glancing in her direction—and their eyes met.

  Aurora’s heart leaped into her throat, and she quickly looked down at the dirt in front of her, pretending to be absorbed in her work. But the moment was already gone. She could still feel the intensity of his gaze, and she knew that Eren had seen her watching him.

  Eren’s heart skipped a beat as well. He hadn’t meant to catch her off guard, but something about the way she had been looking at him made his chest tighten. The softness in her eyes, the way her cheeks flushed when their gazes met—he couldn’t deny the effect it had on him. He had always cared about Aurora, ever since they were kids, but now… now it was different.

  He wasn’t sure what to do with these feelings. There was too much at stake, too much on the line for him to focus on anything other than the mission. But seeing her there, working in the garden, her hair glowing in the sunlight, the peacefulness she brought to this otherwise grim situation—it was hard to ignore the pull he felt toward her.

  Eren cleared his throat and resumed chopping the firewood, though his movements were a bit more distracted now. His mind wandered back to the look on Aurora’s face, the way her eyes had softened when she watched him. It wasn’t the first time he had caught her sneaking glances at him over the past few weeks, but it was the first time he had allowed himself to linger on the thought.

  For a moment, he lost himself in the rhythm of chopping wood, trying to focus on the task at hand. But his thoughts kept drifting back to her—how she had become his safe haven in a world that was crumbling around him.

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  Aurora, still feeling the heat of embarrassment, decided to focus on her work as well. She bent over her garden, pulling a few weeds and checking the progress of the plants. But her heart wouldn’t stop pounding in her chest. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Eren had looked at her. He had always been so composed, so focused on his mission, but for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something else in his eyes—something softer, something just for her.

  No, it’s just my imagination, she told herself. Eren has so much on his shoulders… there’s no way he’d think about me like that.

  Still, as she stole another glance at him from beneath her lashes, she couldn’t help but wonder.

  Eren raised the axe again, bringing it down with a sharp thud, splitting another piece of firewood cleanly in two. The rhythmic motion of chopping wood usually helped him focus, allowed him to clear his head and concentrate on the mission ahead. But today, it wasn’t working. No matter how many times he swung the axe, his thoughts kept drifting back to her.

  Aurora.

  He stole a quick glance over his shoulder at her, kneeling in the garden, her fingers gently pulling weeds and tending to the plants she had so carefully nurtured. The sunlight caught in her long, platinum blonde hair, and her soft features looked peaceful as she worked. She was beautiful—there was no denying that—and each time Eren saw her, it became harder and harder to ignore the growing feelings tugging at his heart.

  But he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not now. Not with everything on the line.

  Focus, he told himself, gritting his teeth as he brought the axe down again. Another log split in two, but even as he worked, his mind wandered back to the conversation they had had about her father.

  Aurora had told him that her father, Clive, had stolen the War Hammer Titan from the Tybur family, a fact that had taken Eren by surprise when he first heard it. The War Hammer Titan was one of the Nine, an elusive power that had remained hidden within the Tybur family for years. Eren had done some digging into it, trying to find any record of Clive or his theft of the Titan, but every lead had come up cold.

  There were no records of her father. No records of her mother, Nadia. Not even Aurora herself. It was as if the Tybur family had erased their existence entirely.

  But why?

  The Tyburs were one of the most powerful families in Marley, and their influence ran deep through its political and military structures. It wasn’t surprising that they could cover up something like this, but the question that nagged at Eren was why they had gone to such lengths to keep Aurora’s family hidden. What were they trying to protect? Or more importantly, what were they trying to keep secret?

  He wiped the sweat from his brow, his thoughts churning as he continued to chop the wood. The Tyburs were already a critical piece of his plan—he needed the War Hammer Titan to solidify his power, to make sure Paradis had the strength to face the world. But Aurora’s connection to them, her family’s history with the War Hammer, had complicated things. There was more to this than he had originally thought, and Eren couldn’t shake the feeling that Aurora’s past might be more entwined with his mission than he realized.

  The sound of her soft humming brought him back to the present, and Eren paused, lowering the axe for a moment as he turned to look at her again. She was smiling, her fingers gently brushing the leaves of the plants she had grown. There was a quiet joy in her work, a peace that seemed to radiate from her even in this chaotic world.

  Eren clenched his jaw, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions. He didn’t want to pull her into the darkness of his plans, into the inevitable bloodshed that lay ahead. Aurora had already suffered so much—losing her parents, being taken as a slave by the Tyburs. She deserved peace, not more violence.

  But he also couldn’t ignore the questions swirling in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Aurora might hold answers—answers that could change the course of his mission.

  “Eren?”

  Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Eren blinked, realizing that he had been standing there, gripping the axe tightly in his hands, lost in his own head.

  Aurora was looking at him now, concern flickering in her ice-blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded quickly, trying to shake off the tension that had built up in his chest. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, his voice a little rougher than he intended. He set the axe down, walking toward her. “Just… thinking.”

  Aurora tilted her head slightly, studying him. She could sense there was something on his mind, something deeper than just the mission. She had always been able to read him, even when they were kids.

  “About what?” she asked gently, sitting back on her heels as she wiped her hands on her dress.

  Eren hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to tell her. He didn’t want to burden her with more than she was already carrying. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Aurora deserved to know the truth. She was part of this now, whether he liked it or not.

  “Your father,” Eren said quietly, stepping closer. “And the War Hammer Titan.”

  Aurora’s expression faltered slightly, her eyes darkening with the mention of her father. It had been painful for her to talk about him, about the loss she had suffered. But she nodded, urging him to continue.

  “I’ve been looking into it,” Eren continued, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke. “Trying to find any information on him—on your family. But there’s nothing. It’s like you don’t exist. No records, no reports. The Tybur family… they’ve made sure you all stayed a secret.”

  Aurora’s breath caught, and she lowered her gaze to the ground. “That doesn’t surprise me,” she said softly. “After they took me and my mother, they made sure we were hidden away. We weren’t allowed to leave the estate. They didn’t want anyone knowing who we were.”

  “But why?” Eren asked, his voice tense. “Why go to such lengths to keep your family hidden? They have the War Hammer Titan—what are they so afraid of?”

  Aurora shook her head, her voice quiet. “I don’t know. My father… he never talked about it. He was always so careful, always on edge. I didn’t even know about the War Hammer Titan until the Tyburs came for us. He kept everything from me.”

  Eren frowned, his mind racing as he tried to piece it all together. There had to be something more, something the Tyburs were hiding. But until he could get his hands on the War Hammer Titan himself, he wouldn’t have the full picture.

  Aurora looked up at him, her gaze filled with uncertainty. “Do you think… do you think my father was part of something bigger? Something the Tyburs didn’t want anyone to know?”

  Eren’s jaw clenched, and he nodded slowly. “Maybe. But whatever it was, it’s tied to the War Hammer Titan. And I’m going to find out what it is.”

  Aurora’s eyes searched his, and for a moment, the weight of their shared past and uncertain future hung between them. There were so many unanswered questions, so many dangers still looming ahead. But despite it all, there was a quiet strength in the way they stood together, a bond that had survived the years and the distance.

  Eren reached out, resting his hand on her shoulder, his voice softer now. “We’ll figure it out, Aurora. Together.”

  Aurora nodded, her heart swelling at the reassurance in his words. She didn’t know what the future held, but as long as she had Eren by her side, she knew they could face whatever came next.

  And as they stood together in the dappled sunlight, the weight of their pasts felt a little lighter.

  …

  The cabin was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire burning in the hearth. Eren and Aurora sat together at the small wooden table, their plates filled with the simple but delicious meal Aurora had prepared. They had fallen into a comfortable routine over the past few months—Eren leaving at sunrise for his mission, gathering intelligence in Marley, and returning just before sunset to the warmth of the cabin and the comfort of Aurora’s presence. But lately, the air between them had shifted.

  There was a tension, a charged energy that neither of them could quite put into words. Unspoken feelings lingered between every glance, every shared moment. Eren felt it every time Aurora smiled at him, every time their hands brushed by accident as they sat together. He knew she felt it too—he could see it in the way her eyes lingered on him just a little too long, in the way her cheeks flushed when they spoke.

  Tonight, as they sat across from each other, the silence felt heavier than usual. Eren picked up his fork, but his mind wasn’t on the food. He kept glancing at Aurora, watching the way the firelight flickered across her face, casting soft shadows on her features. She had changed so much since they were children, but there were still glimpses of the girl he had once known—the same girl who had captivated him all those years ago.

  He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Do you remember… the first time we met?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with a warmth that came from the memory.

  Aurora looked up from her plate, her ice-blue eyes meeting his. A small smile tugged at her lips, and she nodded. “Of course I remember,” she said softly, her voice like a melody. “I was five, and you were six. My mother took me to your house to visit your mom. She and Carla were such good friends.”

  Eren smiled faintly, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. My mom was so excited for me to meet you. She kept saying how I needed more friends.” He chuckled softly, his green eyes softening as he remembered the day. “When you walked in, I couldn’t stop staring at your eyes.”

  Aurora’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she ducked her head, a bit embarrassed by the compliment. “I was so shy back then,” she admitted, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her plate. “But you… you made me feel comfortable. You weren’t like the other kids. You actually wanted to talk to me.”

  Eren’s smile grew. “You had this adventurous spirit,” he said, his voice tinged with admiration. “Even when you were shy, you were curious about everything. I liked that about you. I remember you weren’t afraid to try new things.”

  Aurora looked up at him again, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. It had been so long since she had thought about those carefree days in Shiganshina. Back when they were just children, playing in the streets, climbing trees, and exploring the world around them as if it was a grand adventure. Eren had always been so bold, always pushing her to try new things, and she had admired him for that.

  “I wanted to keep hanging out with you,” Eren continued, his voice softer now. “So we played together every single day after that. We’d run around Shiganshina like we owned the place. You were my first real friend, Aurora. I’ve never forgotten that.”

  Aurora’s heart tightened at his words, a pang of sadness hitting her as she thought back to the day everything had changed. She had only been seven when her family had disappeared from Shiganshina, taken by the Tyburs. She hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye to Eren. One day she was there, and the next, she was gone, ripped away from the life she had known. From the friends she had made. From Eren.

  “I didn’t want to leave,” Aurora whispered, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t even know what was happening. One moment, everything was normal, and then…” She trailed off, her eyes glazing over as the painful memories resurfaced.

  Eren’s jaw clenched as he listened, his heart aching for her. He had never known what had happened to Aurora back then. She had simply vanished, leaving a void in his life that no one else could fill. For years, he had thought about her, wondered where she had gone, what had happened to her. And now, knowing the truth—that she had been taken, that she had suffered so much—it made him sick with anger.

  “Aurora,” Eren said quietly, his voice filled with a deep, unshakable resolve. “I’m going to give you a life of freedom. Not fear. You’ve been through so much, more than anyone should ever have to. But that adventurous spirit you had—it’s still there. I can see it. And I’m going to help you get it back.”

  Aurora’s eyes widened slightly as she looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t expected him to say something like that, but the sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at her with such intensity—it made her feel something she hadn’t felt in years. Hope.

  “Eren…” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “You’ve already done so much for me. You saved me from the Tyburs, you’ve given me a home here. I don’t even know how to thank you for that.”

  Eren shook his head, leaning forward slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said firmly. “I’m doing this because I care about you. I always have.”

  Aurora’s breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing as the weight of his words settled over her. The tension between them, the unspoken feelings that had been building for weeks, suddenly felt palpable. She could feel her heart racing, the air between them charged with something more than just friendship.

  “I care about you too, Eren,” Aurora whispered, her voice barely audible. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

  Eren’s heart skipped a beat at her words, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He had always cared about her—since the day they met, since they had played together in the streets of Shiganshina. But now, it was different. Now, it wasn’t just the boyhood crush he had once felt. It was something deeper. Something stronger.

  But the weight of his mission pressed down on him, reminding him of everything that still lay ahead. The raid on Liberio, the War Hammer Titan, the Rumbling—it all loomed over him like a dark cloud. He couldn’t afford to get distracted, couldn’t afford to let his feelings get in the way of what needed to be done.

  Still, as he looked at Aurora, sitting across from him with that same quiet strength she had always had, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe… just maybe, there was still room for something more. Something worth fighting for, beyond the destruction and the war.

  He reached across the table, his hand gently resting on top of hers. “When this is all over,” Eren said softly, his voice filled with a quiet promise, “I’m going to make sure you have the life you deserve. A life where you’re free to do whatever you want. Where no one can ever take that from you again.”

  Aurora looked down at their hands, her heart swelling with emotion. She didn’t know what the future held—didn’t know if they would survive the storm that was coming. But in this moment, with Eren’s hand on hers, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  Hope.