Married To Darkness-Chapter 448: Under The Waterfall

"If it is, I volunteer to be cursed after I bathe," Jean muttered.

As they made their slow descent, the mood lifted just a little—exhausted warriors and fugitives chasing something so simple... a clean wash, cool water, and maybe, just for a moment, peace.

By the time they reached the bottom of the hill, the horses were lathered in sweat and even Lucius looked humanly tired.

The trees bowed back, revealing the hidden pool like a secret kept by the mountains—a stretch of glassy water cradled by smooth stones, moss-soft banks, and a low melody of flowing current.

Salviana slid off her horse with a groan of relief. "If the water isn’t blessed, I might just bless it myself."

Jean threw her arms up. "I vote for complete nudity."

Lucius raised a brow. "You do that, and the gods themselves might come down."

"Let them," Jean muttered, already kicking off her boots.

Alaric laughed quietly beside Salviana as he helped her down. "You’ll go in first, won’t you?"

She looked up at him, grinning. "Only if you follow."

A few minutes later, clothes were tossed over tree branches, boots left in the grass, and their group had spread along the pool’s edge. Lucius waded in chest-deep with his usual scowl, while Jean splashed water at him just to provoke it into something more human.

Salviana waded in slowly—her bare skin glowing in the dappled light, her red hair dripping down her back like a ribbon of fire. She dipped low, letting the water close over her shoulders with a long, contented sigh.

Alaric stood still on the bank for a long moment, just watching her. His armor was off, his black tunic clinging to his frame, wet at the hem where he’d stepped in. His gaze softened, darkened even, as she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Well?" she called, voice a breathless dare. "Afraid of a little cold?"

"I’m more afraid of you," he answered honestly, stepping in, the water rippling around his legs.

"Good," she teased. "Then you won’t mind if I drown you with affection."

When he reached her, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms lazily around his neck. His skin was cool, but his eyes burned.

"Salviana," he murmured, brushing his nose against hers. "You’re making it difficult to behave."

"Then stop behaving," she whispered.

He kissed her. Not soft, not tender—but slow and deep, the kind of kiss that rewrites the air around them. Her breath hitched against his mouth as her fingers curled into his wet hair.

The water swirled around their bodies, hiding but heightening everything. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

"You’re... not scared?" he asked against her lips, forehead pressed to hers.

"Of you?" she whispered, "Never."

He closed his eyes briefly, as if absorbing the weight of her trust. Then—gods help him—he kissed her again, lifting her just slightly, her feet brushing the stones below.

"Alaric," she breathed, "if this is a dream, don’t you dare wake me."

He chuckled darkly. "You started this, fiery wife."

"And I’ll finish it," she smiled, nipping his lower lip before slipping from his grip and disappearing under the water with a splash.

Alaric blinked—and then smiled like a man ready to chase war or woman. "Oh no. You don’t escape that easily."

Nearby, Jean was shaking her head. "I swear, they’re the reason I want to get married,"

Lucius smirked, "So you will marry me?"

"Shh," she dished him while he hugged her from behind.

The other couple played around awhile and decided to rest near the water, they’ll be insects Salviana said while Jean said but better weather.

The stars came out like scattered silver bones over Wyfhelm’s sky—glittering and cold, untouched by city smoke or castle flame.

The forest had gone still, save for the crackle of the small fire Lucius built near the camp.

They’d set up in a crescent around it, using thick moss for bedding, rolled cloaks as pillows. Already curled in sleep, Jean with her head on a folded satchel, her arms crossed tightly over her chest despite Lucius draping his coat over her.

Salviana sat with her back against Alaric’s chest, nestled between his arms like a secret the night itself was cradling.

Her hair smelled of river and pine, her skin still warm from the kiss of the sun earlier. She wasn’t sleeping yet, just breathing quietly, as if listening to the forest exhale.

"You don’t need to stay awake," Alaric murmured, his lips near her ear.

She shook her head slightly. "Not yet. I like it here."

He smiled, brushing his fingers gently down her arm. "You like being out here with bandits on our heels and kings declaring us enemies?"

"No," she said softly. "But I like being here... with you. I like the quiet after everything. The stolen peace."

Alaric said nothing for a while. The fire flickered shadows across his face—elegant and sharp, eyes burning low like dying embers.

He didn’t need sleep. He could sit perfectly still for days if needed. But watching her breathe, feeling the weight of her pulse beneath his palm—that was rest enough.

Lucius, perched on a boulder not far from them, spoke without turning. "I’ll take first watch."

Alaric raised a brow. "You already are."

Lucius gave a tired, vampire grunt. "Jean talks in her sleep. I’m too curious to look away."

From the other side of the fire, Jean mumbled something in a half-dreamed voice and flipped over. "Pumpkin...cake... don’t touch it... mine..."

Salviana snorted and covered her mouth.

"I rest my case," Lucius said dryly.

Alaric chuckled and buried his face in Salviana’s hair. "Get some sleep. I’ll wake you in two hours."

"I’m not tired," she lied sweetly, her eyes fluttering closed just seconds later.

Later that night...

The stars wheeled on. The fire dimmed to golden coals. Lucius leaned against a tree, staring into the dark like he was waiting for memories that refused to arrive.

Jean stirred once and rolled into his coat.

Alaric remained still, wide awake but peaceful. Salviana pressed tight in his arms.

No danger came. No hunters. No screams.

Just moonlight. Just breath. Just one quiet night before the storm.

"I can’t believe you lot forgot about me!"

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