Chapter Five

  The evening sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow through the small windows of the cabin. Inside, Aurora sat at the wooden table, carefully examining the small vial of elixir she had just finished creating. She held it up to the light, the amber liquid catching the sunlight. It had taken her weeks to perfect, carefully gathering herbs from the surrounding forest and cataloging their properties in the notebook that lay open beside her.

  Aurora had always loved herbalism, a passion passed down from her mother. But now, in the quiet safety of the cabin, she had been able to immerse herself in it fully. This elixir was meant for Eren—something to help with the fatigue he faced after long days of covert operations. He was pushing himself too hard, she could see that. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and though he never complained, Aurora could tell how exhausted he was every time he returned.

  A soft smile played on her lips as she corked the vial and set it carefully on the table. She had finally done it. This would help him. She could picture the look on his face when she handed it to him, the way his green eyes would soften in gratitude, even though he’d probably insist he didn’t need it.

  She glanced out the window, her heart giving a small, fluttering beat. He should be back soon, she thought. Eren always returned just before sunset, like clockwork. Even though he was focused on his mission, he always made time to come back to her.

  The cabin had become their sanctuary—quiet, safe, tucked away from the rest of the world. But as much as Aurora enjoyed the peace, there was always a small undercurrent of fear. The danger was ever-present, lurking just outside the boundaries of their small world.

  As she began tidying up the table, her mind drifted to thoughts of Eren. She missed him during the day, missed the sense of security he brought just by being near. She glanced down at the notebook filled with her notes on the plants she’d discovered, and for a brief moment, she let herself dream of a future where they could live without fear. A future where Eren wouldn’t have to fight, where they could just… exist.

  Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the cabin, shattering the peaceful silence.

  Aurora froze, her heart instantly pounding in her chest. Her first thought was Eren, but no—that wasn’t how he knocked. Eren always knocked twice, softly. This knock was harsh, loud, and unfamiliar.

  Fear surged through her, and she quickly stood, her eyes darting to the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone. No one knew about this cabin except for Eren. She reached for the vial of elixir, gripping it tightly in her hand, as if it could offer some sort of protection.

  Another knock—this time more forceful, rattling the door on its hinges.

  Aurora’s breath quickened, her mind racing. She didn’t know who was out there, but something in her gut told her it wasn’t good. The sound of footsteps outside the cabin sent a cold shiver down her spine, and she backed away from the door, her heart thudding in her chest.

  This isn’t Eren.

  Before she could think of what to do, the pounding grew louder—more violent. The wood groaned under the strain, and then, with a sudden, sickening crack, the door burst open, the hinges splintering as it was kicked inward.

  A man stood in the doorway, his silhouette dark against the fading light outside. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dirty, his clothes torn and stained. His eyes were wild, darting around the cabin before locking onto Aurora. He looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days, and there was a desperate, dangerous edge to him. He was a Marleyan criminal who had escaped and was now on the run.

  Aurora’s blood ran cold.

  “Please…” she stammered, taking a step back. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  The man’s lips curled into a snarl, and he stepped inside, slamming the broken door behind him. “Shut up,” he growled, his voice rough and menacing. “I didn’t know anyone was living here. But now that I see you, I can’t have any witnesses.”

  Aurora’s heart raced in terror. She could barely comprehend what was happening. The man moved toward her, his eyes dark and predatory. There was no reasoning with him—he was focused on survival, and that meant silencing anyone who could turn him in.

  He’s going to kill me.

  She backed away, her mind screaming for her to run, but her body frozen in fear. Her hands trembled as she clutched the vial of elixir, as if it could somehow protect her. She didn’t know what to do. She had no weapons, no way to defend herself.

  The man lunged toward her, his hand reaching for a knife tucked into his belt. Aurora screamed, stumbling back as he closed the distance between them in an instant.

  Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps pounded through the forest outside. Eren had been on his way back when he heard her scream—sharp, terrified. His heart had stopped, and without thinking, he had sprinted back toward the cabin, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong.

  He crashed through the trees, his breath ragged, and burst into the clearing just in time to see the cabin door hanging off its hinges. Panic seized him, but there was no time for thought. He charged toward the cabin, fear and rage boiling inside him.

  Inside, the man grabbed Aurora by the wrist, pulling her toward him. She struggled, but he was too strong. His knife gleamed in the dim light as he raised it, ready to strike.

  But before he could, the door slammed open again with a force that rattled the entire cabin.

  Eren.

  His eyes blazed with fury as he stormed inside, his gaze locking onto the man who had dared to lay a hand on Aurora. The criminal barely had time to react before Eren was on him, his body moving with the lethal speed of a soldier who had seen far too much death. He grabbed the man by the collar, ripping him away from Aurora and slamming him against the wall with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs.

  Everything after that happened in a blur. The man barely had time to register Eren’s arrival before Eren was on him, his body moving with the lethal precision of a soldier. In a flash, Eren grabbed the man by the wrist, twisting it with such force that the knife clattered to the ground. The man grunted in pain, struggling to break free, but Eren was relentless.

  He didn’t know who this man was, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care why he was here or what had led him to this point. The only thing Eren cared about was that this man had threatened Aurora.

  “Get away from her,” Eren growled, his voice low and menacing as he bashed the man’s head into the wall again, this time with a brutal force that made the wooden beams creak.

  The man gasped, his eyes wide with panic as he struggled against Eren’s iron grip. “What the hell are you—”

  Eren didn’t let him finish. His hand shot out, grabbing the man by the throat and squeezing, his face dark with fury. There was no hesitation, no mercy in his eyes. This man had tried to kill Aurora. Eren wouldn’t give him the chance to regret that mistake.

  The man thrashed desperately, trying to claw at Eren’s arm, but Eren tightened his grip, cutting off his air supply. The man’s wild, panicked eyes darted around, searching for a way out, but it was too late. He was already dead—he just didn’t know it yet.

  With a final, sickening crack, Eren crushed the man’s throat, letting his lifeless body fall to the floor with a dull thud.

  For a moment, the cabin was eerily silent, the only sound Eren’s ragged breathing as he stood over the body, his fists still clenched tightly. He didn’t feel anything. No remorse, no guilt. The man had been a threat. And Eren had eliminated him. That was all there was to it.

  He turned to Aurora, who was standing frozen by the table, her eyes wide with shock, her chest heaving as she struggled to process what had just happened. Her face was pale, her body trembling, but she was unharmed.

  “Aurora,” Eren said, his voice softer now as he stepped toward her, his expression shifting from rage to concern. “Are you okay?”

  Aurora blinked, her heart still racing, and she slowly nodded, though her voice trembled when she spoke. “I… I’m okay. I… I didn’t know what to do. He just… came in.”

  Eren reached out, gently placing his hands on her shoulders, his touch grounding her as she tried to calm herself. “It’s over now,” he said quietly, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Aurora’s breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly felt the weight of everything crash down on her. The fear, the relief, the shock of it all—it was too much. She collapsed against Eren’s chest, her hands gripping his shirt as she let out a shaky breath.

  Eren wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as she trembled against him. He could feel her fear, her fragility in that moment, and it made his heart ache. He had been too late. Even if she was unharmed, she had been terrified, and that was something Eren couldn’t forgive himself for.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I should have been here.”

  Aurora shook her head against his chest, her voice muffled as she replied. “You saved me, Eren. That’s all that matters.”

  Eren held her for a long time, the tension in his body slowly easing as the adrenaline began to fade. But even as the cabin grew quiet again, the rage that had sparked inside him remained, simmering just beneath the surface.

  He would protect Aurora. No matter what.

  As Aurora stood there, enveloped in Eren’s strong arms, her mind raced, struggling to process the sheer chaos of what had just happened. The cabin, which had felt like a sanctuary just moments ago, was now the scene of something horrifying. A stranger had broken in, intent on killing her, and Eren—her childhood friend, her protector—had snapped the man’s neck without a second thought. It had all happened so quickly, too quickly for her to even comprehend.

  The entire ordeal couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes, but in those five minutes, her world had turned upside down. One minute she was peacefully preparing for Eren’s return, and the next, she was fighting for her life, watching as Eren killed a man right in front of her. The man’s lifeless body still lay crumpled on the floor, his face frozen in the terror of his last moments.

  Her hands trembled as she clung to Eren’s shirt, her breath coming in shallow, shaky gasps. She could still hear the sound of the door breaking, the man’s cruel voice, the way the air had been filled with violence so suddenly. And then, Eren’s expression—cold, determined, deadly—as he had crushed the man’s throat with nothing but his bare hands.

  Aurora closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart, but the images played over and over in her mind, too vivid to escape. She could feel Eren’s steady heartbeat beneath her cheek, could feel the warmth of his body against hers, but it wasn’t enough to stop the overwhelming fear that still gripped her.

  “I… I don’t… I don’t know what just happened,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as though saying it aloud would make it more real. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt as she buried her face deeper into his chest, seeking the comfort that only he could provide.

  Eren’s arms tightened around her, his hand gently stroking her back in slow, calming motions. He didn’t say anything at first—what could he say? He had acted on pure instinct, driven by the overwhelming need to protect her. But now, holding her like this, he could feel the weight of what had just happened pressing down on both of them.

  "I’m sorry," Eren whispered again, his voice low and heavy with guilt. His breath was warm against her hair, but there was something cold and distant in his tone. "I should’ve been here sooner. You shouldn’t have had to go through that."

  Aurora shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke. “No, Eren… you… you saved me. I—” She choked on her words, the shock and fear still clouding her thoughts. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t put into words the terror she had felt, the helplessness that had consumed her when that man had come for her with a knife.

  The memory of Eren’s cold, lethal precision lingered in her mind. He hadn’t hesitated—not for a second. She had seen him fight before when he praticed his hand-to-hand combat outside, seen the power and violence he could unleash as both a human and titan, but this had been different. This had been personal. Eren had killed that man to protect her, and he had done it without blinking.

  She pulled back slightly, looking up at him, her eyes wide and filled with confusion. “How… how do you do it, Eren?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “How do you just… kill like that? So quickly, without hesitation?”

  Eren’s expression softened, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes as he looked down at her. He had seen too much death, been forced to make too many impossible choices. He wasn’t the same boy she had known all those years ago in Shiganshina. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and he had learned long ago that sometimes survival meant doing terrible things.

  “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a quiet resignation. “I’ve done things, Aurora… things I’m not proud of. But if it means keeping you safe, if it means protecting the people I care about… then I’ll do whatever I have to.”

  Aurora’s heart ached at his words, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She had always known that Eren was different now, that the boy she had once played with had grown into a man hardened by the horrors of the world. But hearing him say it, hearing the pain and guilt in his voice—it made her realize just how much he had sacrificed.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to—”

  Eren shook his head, cutting her off. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. This is my fault. I should’ve been here.”

  Aurora’s hands tightened around his shirt, her chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths. “No, Eren… it’s not your fault,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “You saved me.”

  Eren stared at her for a long moment, his green eyes filled with an intensity that made her chest tighten. He didn’t know how to explain the feelings that had surged through him when he had heard her scream. The fear, the rage, the primal need to protect her at any cost—it had been overwhelming. And now, holding her in his arms, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had come too close to losing her.

  Slowly, Aurora pulled herself out of Eren’s embrace, her hands still trembling as she wiped at her tear-streaked face. The fear still lingered, but being in his arms had helped calm the panic that had gripped her. She looked around the cabin, her gaze falling on the broken door, the scattered wood, and then finally on the man’s lifeless body lying on the floor.

  Her stomach churned at the sight, and she quickly averted her gaze. “What do we do now?” she whispered, the weight of the situation settling over her. “We… we can’t just leave him here.”

  Eren’s jaw tightened, his gaze darkening as he glanced at the body. He nodded grimly. “I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly, his voice cold and determined. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  Aurora swallowed hard, nodding as she took a shaky breath. She trusted him—she always had. But the world they were living in now was so different from the one they had known as children. There was no more innocence, no more safety. Only survival.

  As Eren moved to deal with the body, Aurora sat down at the table, her hands still trembling as she tried to steady her breathing. The cabin had been their sanctuary, a place where she had felt safe for the first time in years. But now, the walls felt like they were closing in, the weight of the danger pressing down on her.

  Eren glanced over at her, his expression softening as he saw the fear still lingering in her eyes. “I promise you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with determination. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

  Aurora nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “I know.”

  But as she sat there, her heart still racing, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The world outside was closing in, and no matter how hard Eren fought to protect her, the danger would always be there, lurking in the shadows.

  And yet, as long as she had Eren, she knew she wouldn’t face it alone.

  Eren stood still for a moment, his eyes locked on Aurora, who sat trembling at the table, her eyes filled with fear and unease. He could feel the tension radiating from her, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on them both. The body on the floor was a grim reminder of the brutal reality they faced—this wasn’t a peaceful world where they could hide forever. Every day was a battle for survival, and Eren couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Not for a second.

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  He knew what had to be done, but leaving Aurora alone, even for a short while, made his chest tighten with unease. He couldn’t stand the thought of anything else happening to her. Yet, he also knew the body couldn’t stay here. The sight of it was making her uncomfortable, and the longer it remained, the greater the risk of someone else stumbling upon them.

  Eren turned to Aurora, his voice gentle despite the weight of the situation. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, his hand reaching out to gently brush her shoulder. “I need to get rid of the body. But I promise I’ll make sure everything is safe before I go.”

  Aurora looked up at him, her face pale but nodding in understanding. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice still shaky. “Just… be careful.”

  Eren gave a small nod before turning his attention to the body. His expression hardened, his jaw clenched as he knelt down to grip the dead man by the collar. Whoever this man had been, whatever his reasons for stumbling across their cabin, none of it mattered now. The moment he had broken in, the moment he had threatened Aurora, his fate had been sealed. Eren didn’t regret snapping his neck. The only thing he regretted was that Aurora had to witness it.

  He signed his death warrant the second he stepped inside.

  Even if the man hadn’t been hostile, even if he had been nothing more than a wanderer, Eren knew he still would’ve killed him. He couldn’t afford to take any chances—not with Aurora’s safety, and not with the mission. They were both too valuable, too dangerous to be discovered. He was the holder of the Founding Titan, the most wanted man in Marley, and Aurora… she was a runaway slave from the most powerful family in the country. If anyone found out who they were, it would be over for both of them.

  Eren’s priorities were clear: Aurora came first. Always. And after that, the War Hammer Titan. These were the only two things that mattered to him right now.

  He carefully dragged the body toward the door, his muscles tensing as he pulled the man’s dead weight out of the cabin. As he stepped outside, he paused for a moment, scanning the surrounding area, his senses heightened for any sign of danger. The trees stood still, the evening air quiet and undisturbed. But Eren didn’t relax. He couldn’t afford to. Not with what was at stake.

  After making sure the area was secure, Eren began dragging the body deeper into the woods. His thoughts were calm and methodical, his focus unshaken by the gruesome task at hand. He had done things like this before, made decisions that others might find impossible. But Eren had long since accepted that the world they lived in required hard choices. If anyone threatened what he was working for—if anyone posed a danger to Aurora or his mission—he would kill them without hesitation.

  He would do whatever it took to protect her. And whatever it took to secure the War Hammer Titan. In that order.

  As he dragged the body further away from the cabin, Eren’s mind replayed the moment in the cabin over and over again. The man’s face twisted with fear, his life slipping away beneath Eren’s hands. It hadn’t been the first time Eren had taken a life, and it wouldn’t be the last. The guilt he had once felt over killing had long since faded, replaced by a cold, unwavering resolve. His mission—their survival—was all that mattered.

  Aurora’s face flashed in his mind again, the look of terror she’d had when the man burst through the door. It wasn’t the blood or violence that haunted Eren—it was the thought that he had been too late, that he hadn’t been there in time to stop the fear that had gripped her. He hated that she had been put in danger, hated that she had to see the worst parts of this life. He wanted to shield her from all of it, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t possible.

  He knelt down in the clearing, digging a shallow grave with his bare hands. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to keep the body hidden. Eren worked quickly, his movements efficient and precise, his mind already turning to what needed to be done next. The Raid on Liberio was still months away, but every day brought them closer. And every day, the risks grew greater.

  Once the grave was dug, Eren dropped the body in without a second glance, covering it with dirt and leaves until the ground looked undisturbed. He stood up, brushing the soil from his hands, and looked around one last time to make sure there were no signs of what had happened.

  Satisfied, Eren turned and began the walk back to the cabin. His steps were heavy, his mind still turning over the events of the day. He couldn’t shake the image of Aurora’s fear-stricken face, the way her voice had trembled when she spoke.

  I can’t let this happen again, he thought, his jaw tightening. I have to keep her safe. No matter what.

  As he reached the cabin, Eren stepped inside quietly, his gaze immediately falling on Aurora. She was still sitting at the table, her hands folded in her lap, her face pale but calm. When she saw him, she offered a small, tentative smile.

  “I’m okay,” she said softly, as if sensing the concern radiating from him. “I’m… just trying to process everything.”

  Eren nodded, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to worry anymore,” he said quietly. “He’s gone. No one will find him.”

  Aurora looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for a moment. There was something unspoken between them—an understanding that the world they lived in was unforgiving, that this wouldn’t be the last time they faced danger. But as long as they had each other, they could face it together.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet gratitude. “For protecting me.”

  Eren’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, his heart swelling with something deeper than he could express. “I’ll always protect you, Aurora,” he said firmly, his voice steady with the weight of his promise. “Always.”

  Aurora nodded, her heart feeling lighter despite everything that had happened. She trusted him completely, and no matter how dark the world became, she knew Eren would always be there.

  …

  The cabin was quiet now, the earlier chaos feeling like a distant memory, though the weight of it still hung in the air. Eren had done everything he could to make sure Aurora felt safe, but as the evening deepened into night, he could sense the lingering tension in her. The fear she had experienced still gripped her, making the silence in the cabin feel heavy.

  Aurora stood near the small bed in the corner of the room, wringing her hands together as she glanced at Eren. She had been thinking about asking him this for what felt like hours, but her nerves had kept her quiet. After what had happened earlier—the terror of almost losing her life, the violent way Eren had protected her—she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone tonight.

  But asking him to stay… to sleep beside her… it felt like such an intimate request.

  She swallowed hard, trying to gather the courage to speak. “Eren…?” she started softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Eren turned to her immediately, his eyes softening at the sight of her standing there, clearly unsure of herself. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, stepping closer.

  Aurora hesitated for a moment, feeling her heart race. She didn’t know how to ask this without sounding… awkward. But she didn’t want to be alone tonight, not after everything. And there was only one person she trusted, only one person who made her feel safe.

  “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” she admitted quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “Not after… everything that happened.” She glanced up at him, her blue eyes searching his face for any sign of rejection. “Could you… stay with me? In the bed?”

  Eren’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he froze. His heart skipped a beat, and he could feel a faint blush creeping up his neck. In the bed? With Aurora? He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. Did she want him to just lay beside her for comfort, or… did she want him to hold her?

  The thought sent a surge of nervousness through him, but there was also a warmth that spread through his chest at the idea. He had always cared for Aurora, and now that they were together again, those feelings had only grown stronger. He’d do anything for her, anything to make her feel safe.

  “Y-yeah, of course,” Eren stammered slightly, trying to keep his voice steady. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but he quickly nodded, not wanting to make her feel awkward. “I’ll stay with you.”

  Aurora felt a rush of relief wash over her, but she also couldn’t ignore the nervous flutter in her chest. She hadn’t meant for it to sound so forward, but after what had happened earlier, all she wanted was the reassurance of Eren’s presence. Just having him close made her feel safer, like nothing could harm her while he was there.

  Eren hesitated for a moment before he walked over to the bed, his mind still racing. He glanced at Aurora, who was standing beside the bed, her cheeks faintly pink as she avoided his gaze. He could tell she was nervous too, and for some reason, that made him feel a little more at ease. She wasn’t asking for anything more than comfort—he knew that. But still, the idea of lying beside her, holding her, made his heart race.

  Without saying a word, Eren carefully climbed into the bed, the mattress creaking slightly under his weight. Aurora followed suit, slipping under the covers and lying on her side, facing away from him. The bed was small, and the space between them was almost nonexistent.

  Eren swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing thoughts. His entire body felt tense, every nerve on edge. He wasn’t sure what to do—whether he should reach out and hold her or simply stay on his side of the bed. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but he also didn’t want her to feel alone.

  For a moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. The warmth of the blankets surrounded them, but Eren could feel the nervous tension in the air.

  “Eren?” Aurora’s voice was soft, barely audible in the quiet of the room.

  Eren’s heart skipped another beat. “Yeah?”

  Aurora hesitated, her voice trembling slightly. “Can you… can you hold me?”

  The question made Eren’s heart race even faster, but he didn’t hesitate this time. He carefully shifted closer, slipping an arm around her waist and gently pulling her back against his chest. Aurora’s body was warm, and as she settled into him, he could feel the tension in both of them slowly start to fade.

  His heart pounded in his chest as he held her, the feel of her soft hair brushing against his chin. He hadn’t been this close to anyone in such a long time, and now, lying here with Aurora in his arms, it felt… right. She was the only person who had ever made him feel like this, and in this moment, nothing else mattered.

  Aurora felt the warmth of Eren’s body against her back, and the tension that had been building inside her all evening finally began to dissipate. His arm around her was strong and protective, and for the first time since the terrifying events earlier, she felt safe. She let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to relax into his embrace.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of gratitude.

  Eren didn’t respond with words. Instead, he tightened his hold on her ever so slightly, his heart swelling at the feeling of her in his arms. He didn’t know what the future held for them, but right now, in this moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that Aurora was safe, and he was here to protect her.

  As the quiet of the night settled around them, the tension between them faded into something softer, something deeper. And though neither of them said anything more, the unspoken feelings they had both been holding onto lingered in the space between them, warm and undeniable.

  Aurora lay still, her body pressed against Eren’s as his arm wrapped securely around her waist. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back, the warmth of his body seeping into hers through the blankets.

  Her thoughts raced, but not from fear. Despite the violent encounter earlier, despite watching Eren take a life without hesitation, she had never felt more secure. His presence, his strength—it was comforting in a way that she hadn’t expected. The weight of his arm around her, the steady, protective hold, made her feel like nothing could harm her as long as he was there.

  But then there was the way she could feel him. Every inch of him. His muscled torso pressed against her back, his solid frame surrounding her. She was so much smaller than him, and the size difference between them was only more noticeable in this intimate position. She shifted slightly, feeling his arm tighten instinctively, and her breath hitched. He’s so strong.

  Aurora closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing thoughts. It was impossible not to think about him. Eren wasn’t the boy she remembered from Shiganshina—he was a man now, hardened by war and burdened with the fate of their people. But to her, he was still the person she had always cared for, and now, in this moment, she was keenly aware of just how close they were. Physically, emotionally.

  She could feel the firm planes of his body, the way his warmth enveloped her. And even though he had killed a man earlier, it didn’t scare her. If anything, it reassured her. She knew, without a doubt, that Eren would do anything to protect her. There was something powerful in that knowledge, something that made her feel… safe.

  But at the same time, she couldn’t ignore how aware she was of him. Her cheeks flushed as she realized just how close they were, especially when she felt the firmness of his chest against her back, his breath on her neck. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same tension, the same awareness of their proximity.

  Meanwhile, Eren was trying his best to keep it together, thankful that Aurora had her back turned to him so she couldn’t see the blush burning across his face. He had been holding her for what felt like hours, and every second had him more on edge. He could feel every curve of her body pressed against him, every soft line of her form molded against his.

  Aurora had changed since they had first reunited in Marley. She had been so thin, so frail when he found her, malnourished from the years of being a slave to the Tybur family. But now, after months of living in the cabin, her body had filled out, and Eren couldn’t help but notice how beautifully she had grown. Her curves had become more pronounced, her skin glowing with health, and he had always admired her, though he kept those thoughts to himself.

  But admiring from a distance was different than feeling it. Now, with her pressed so tightly against him, he was struggling to keep his thoughts from wandering. Her hips, her waist, the way her body fit perfectly against his—it was almost too much. Her butt pressed into his crotch, and Eren had to bite the inside of his cheek, willing himself not to react.

  Stay calm, he told himself, his breath uneven. Don’t get turned on. Don’t let her notice.

  He closed his eyes, hoping to distract himself, but the warmth of her body, the soft feel of her against him, only made it harder. His grip around her waist tightened slightly, but he quickly loosened it, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was taking advantage of the situation.

  Aurora shifted again, her back pressing more firmly into him, and Eren swallowed hard, his face growing hotter by the second. God, she feels…

  He forced himself to focus on something else, anything else, but it was impossible. Her presence was overwhelming. He could smell the faint scent of herbs on her, a mix of the garden and the fresh air from the woods outside. It was intoxicating, and every time she moved, his heart beat a little faster.

  Eren’s mind raced, a part of him wanting to pull her closer, to let the feelings he’d been holding in for months come to the surface. But another part of him knew this wasn’t the time. Aurora had been through too much today, and right now, she needed comfort, not whatever confusing emotions were swirling in his chest.

  Just stay still, he reminded himself, his breath shallow. But even as he told himself that, he couldn’t stop the faint blush from creeping up his neck.

  Aurora, too, was finding it harder to remain calm. She could feel the tension in Eren’s body, the way his muscles tensed every time she moved. And though he was trying his best to keep it together, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same way she was. The closeness, the warmth, the unspoken bond between them—it was all so overwhelming.

  She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she simply lay there, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back, letting the comfort of his presence wash over her.

  Neither of them spoke, the silence between them charged with everything they weren’t saying. But in that quiet, something unspoken lingered—something deep and undeniable, something that neither of them could ignore for much longer.

  But for now, they stayed as they were, wrapped in each other’s warmth, acutely aware of the other’s presence, and hoping that the tension between them wouldn’t betray the feelings they were both trying to hide.

  Eren, desperate for something—anything—to distract himself from the warmth of Aurora's body pressed against his, noticed the small vial on the table. The firelight caught on the glass, casting a soft glow over the amber liquid inside. He could tell it wasn’t there earlier, and the sight of it sparked enough curiosity to pull his mind away from the tension in his body.

  Trying to focus on something other than the way Aurora’s soft curves fit perfectly against him, Eren cleared his throat softly. “Hey… what’s that on the table?” he asked, his voice low, trying to sound casual. His arm was still wrapped around her waist, but he loosened it slightly, just enough to give her space to answer without feeling too close.

  Aurora blinked, grateful for the distraction as well. Her heart had been racing ever since she asked Eren to hold her, and though his presence made her feel safe, there was no denying the nervous tension in the air. She followed his gaze to the vial on the table, and her lips curved into a small smile, remembering the work she had put into creating it.

  “Oh, that,” she said softly, her voice still a little shaky from the events of the day. “It’s an elixir I made. It’s supposed to help with fatigue.”

  Eren raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Fatigue?” He shifted slightly, his hold on her still gentle, but his attention fully focused on what she had just said. “You made that for me?”

  Aurora nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah… I noticed how tired you’ve been lately, with everything going on. I thought… maybe it could help. I know it’s not much, but it’s something.”

  Eren felt a warmth spread through his chest, this time not from the closeness of their bodies, but from the thoughtfulness behind her words. Despite everything she had been through, despite the fear and uncertainty they were both facing, Aurora had taken the time to think about him. She had gone out of her way to create something that would ease his burden, even if it was something as simple as an elixir for his fatigue.

  “Thank you,” Eren said quietly, his voice sincere. He tightened his arm around her just slightly, a silent gesture of appreciation. “I’ve… been feeling it, you know. All of this. But you didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

  Aurora smiled faintly, feeling a little more relaxed now that they were talking about something else. “It wasn’t any trouble. I’ve always loved working with herbs… and I guess I wanted to do something that could help you. You’ve done so much for me already.”

  Eren looked at her with a soft, almost unreadable expression, though she couldn’t see it with her back turned to him. The fact that she had gone to such lengths for him, after everything she had endured, stirred something deep within him. He didn’t feel deserving of her kindness, not after the life he was leading—the violence, the bloodshed, the choices he had made. But hearing her talk about wanting to help him, wanting to ease his burden, made him feel something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

  Gratitude. And something more.

  “You don’t owe me anything, Aurora,” Eren murmured, his voice soft but firm. “Everything I’ve done… I’ve done because I want to. Because I care about you.”

  Aurora’s heart skipped a beat at his words, and she could feel the blush rising in her cheeks again. She shifted slightly in his arms, unsure of how to respond. She wasn’t used to hearing such vulnerability from him, but the sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten in a way she couldn’t ignore.

  “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But still… I wanted to do something.”

  Eren glanced at the vial again, his mind drifting back to the effort she must have put into creating it. He had seen her working in the garden, seen the care she took with every plant, every herb. And now, to know that all of that was for him… it made the tension between them feel even more charged.

  “You really think it’ll help?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He was grateful for the change in conversation, something to focus on other than the way her body was pressed against his. “I mean, I’ve never had anything like that before.”

  Aurora chuckled softly, the sound a welcome break from the tension in the room. “It should help,” she replied. “It’s not a miracle cure, but it’ll give you more energy. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, Eren.”

  He nodded, knowing she was right. The mission, the weight of what he had to do—it had taken its toll on him. But he never let himself rest. There was too much at stake. Too much to lose if he didn’t keep moving forward.

  “I’ll try it,” Eren said quietly, his voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Aurora. It means a lot.”

  Aurora smiled to herself, feeling a little more at ease now. She was still hyper-aware of how close they were, of the way his arm was wrapped around her waist, but the conversation had helped calm her nerves. She hadn’t expected him to appreciate the elixir so much, but hearing him say it meant more to her than she realized.

  As the night stretched on, the tension between them slowly began to ebb, replaced by a quiet comfort. They stayed like that, lying close together in the warmth of the bed, the unspoken feelings between them still lingering, but now softened by the simple act of caring for each other.