Page 39 of Unravelled
The door shut behind him with a dull thud. Final. Heavy. The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It settled over the room, pressing in from all sides. She turned to face him but Tharion hadn’t moved.
Slowly, without a word, he crossed the space between them. His steps were quiet, his movements unhurried, as if he were approaching something fragile. Mira watched him, his presence steady, stopping just a breath away.
Without fanfare, he wrapped his arms around her.
It wasn’t a sweeping gesture, wasn’t desperate.
His arms folded around her back, his chest against her shoulder, and for a moment, everything else dropped away.
The uprising, the officer. The silence between them.
It all slipped into the background. She stood still, surprised, not by the touch, but by how familiar it felt.
How easy. Like a language they hadn’t forgotten.
After a breath, her hand came up rest tightly around him.
And then he spoke, voice low, close to her ear. “Mira,” he began, “I’m so sorry. For what I said. For how I’ve been.”
She didn’t pull back, but her shoulders tensed slightly beneath his hands.
“This isn’t your fault,” he murmured. “And it’s not mine, either. What they did … you didn’t choose any of it.” He pulled back enough to meet her gaze, still holding her in place. His expression was bare. Unmasked.
“All I’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe.” Her breath hitched, but she didn’t look away. “I don’t support this.” he said. “Not because I doubt you. But because it’s you. If it were anyone else, I’d be talking tactics. I’d be fine with it. But it’s not anyone else. It's you.” He swallowed.
“I’m coming with you. Not to stop you. To stand with you.” A beat passed. “And if anything happens, if he crosses a line, if you so much as look like you want out, I’ll help you No hesitation.”
Mira let the silence settle again. Not tense. Just full.Then, softly as she smiled, “You always do that.”
Tharion frowned. “Do what?”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “Make it hard to be angry with you.”
Tharion’s expression softened, and then, slowly, he smiled. Not wide. Just enough for her to see it was real. “Good,” he said. “I was starting to worry I’d lost the knack.”
She stepped back, just enough to breathe. “I’ll get ready,” she said. “You should too.”
She turned, quietly, and moved toward the small adjoining room.
???
Mira let out a slow breath as she stepped away from the waterfall’s steady cascade, the warm droplets rolling down her skin one last time before she reached for a towel. The water had cooled her, washing away the salt, the sweat, the exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin.
She wrapped the simple linen towel around herself, tucking it securely. Then, a knock. Her head snapped toward the door, muscles instinctively tensing. A pause. Tharion’s voice was low and composed.
“Mira.” She inhaled slowly, exhaling just as carefully.
“Yes?” The door cracked open just enough for her to see a sliver of him, a glimpse of his broad shoulders.
“May I come in?” His voice was careful, measured. A flicker of something passed through her, hesitation, awareness, something more tangled.
She shifted her grip on the towel, then sighed. “Go ahead. ”
The door swung open a fraction more, just enough for him to step inside without intruding. She blinked at the sight before her. In his hands, a folded set of clothes. A small cosmetics kit. And resting atop them, a sealed note. Mira frowned.
Tharion stepped closer, extending the bundle toward her. “Instructions, they were just delivered”
Her stomach twisted. She reached out, taking the items from him, her fingers brushing the edge of the note before flipping it over. Brahn’s handwriting. Her pulse ticked faster. She opened the letter.
The officer’s name is Captain Dren Solvar.
He’s been stationed along Kharador’s western front for a few years.
Experienced, smart, but reckless. He doesn’t always follow orders.
He operates well under pressure. And he’s willing to take risks if it means securing an advantage.
Tell him we are going to be passing through Harrow’s Hollow in three day’s time.
He prefers dark-haired women. Burn this note.
She glanced at the cosmetics kit, and her auburn hair on her shoulder. The implication sinking in. Change your face. Change your hair. Become the woman he’d notice.
Tharion cleared his throat, drawing her gaze back to him.
His expression was tense. She lifted the garments that were delivered, the fabric shifting like liquid between her fingers.
It was an exquisite ivory corset and undergarment set, crafted from shadowlace, thin enough to see through in parts, yet snug enough to mold to her skin.
Mira was no stranger to bare skin, to dressing for appearances, but this, this was different. Alongside was a dark, floor-length robe, its fabric soft yet deceptively heavy, meant to conceal and reveal in equal measure. She met Tharion’s gaze once more.
"I'm going to need some time." His jaw tensed, but he only nodded.
Without another word, he stepped back and shut the door.