Chapter 35.5: Awkward Puppy Love: Now Featuring Coitus Interruptus 2.0

Almost three months had passed since Rissa had teleported us to the Shadow Continent, I thought with a weary sigh.

The first days had been a blur of exhaustion and constant vigilance. Sleep was a luxury we could barely afford as we trudged through the dense, ever-present fog that swallowed the landscape. Every rustle of shadow, every distant echo, made me flinch, waiting for the moment a corpse—or something worse—would rise to strike. The legends said the entire continent teemed with undead, the remnants of a dark army Altheryon had supposedly created in his pursuit of immortality.

Yet, in truth, we hadn’t seen a single one. No undead, not even a hint. Wild beasts, yes—some of them twisted and strange from the magical density of the fog—but nothing that Cassian’s masterful combat skills and brute strength, combined with Arkanthos’ astonishing magical power, couldn’t handle with ease.

It was about a month in when we finally glimpsed a sign of civilization: a grand mansion, almost like a castle in its scale and ambition. Arkanthos’ eyes sparkled as he explained it had probably been Altheryon’s residence. For the first time, I felt the faint stirrings of purpose in our aimless wandering. Information, knowledge—this was something I could do. I could study, I could gather, and maybe, just maybe, it would be useful for Rissa.

We explored the mansion cautiously. Libraries upon libraries stretched endlessly before us, their shelves stuffed with dusty tomes, manuscripts, and notes in languages that would have made most people’s heads spin. Alchemical laboratories, their contents half-decayed and mysterious, lined the walls like relics of some forgotten experiment.

And so two months passed. Two months of notes, of reading, of piecing together fragments of ancient knowledge, with Arkanthos filling in the blanks with his memories and anecdotes from a world long gone.

I should have been thrilled. I was fascinated by the discoveries, by the layers of forgotten history and magic, and I had Arkanthos’ gentle guidance to help me understand what I couldn’t. But… I wasn’t.

Because despite all of it, we found nothing that could help Rissa. Nothing to free her from the “curse,” for lack of a better word, that bound her to this endless game played by cosmic deities. Nothing to save her from the relentless cycle of death and obligation.

Night had fallen over the Shadow Continent, the mansion bathed in pale moonlight filtering through the cracked windows. I sat at a long oak table, hunched over a stack of manuscripts, eyes strained, fingers trembling from exhaustion but refusing to stop. The words blurred and shifted, but I kept reading, compelled by the desperate hope of finding something—anything—that could help Rissa.

A soft knock at the doorframe startled me.

“Serine?” Cassian’s voice was low, careful, almost hesitant.

“I’m fine,” I muttered without looking up. My hand brushed across another sheet of fragile parchment.

“You’re not fine,” he said, stepping closer, a small tray balanced in his large hands. A steaming cup of something warm glowed faintly in the moonlight. He set it down beside me. “You need to rest. At least a little.”

“I can’t rest,” I said, irritation creeping into my tone. “I have to find something for Rissa. There’s nothing else we can do while—” I cut myself off, noticing the worry in his stormy eyes.

Cassian crouched beside me, resting a hand lightly on my shoulder. “Serine… you’ve barely slept, barely eaten. You’re wearing yourself out. Rissa wouldn’t want that. And neither would I.” His voice was gentle, steady, yet filled with that quiet concern that always made my chest ache.

I felt my heart skip. His hand lingered, comforting, grounding me, and I couldn’t stop the flush rising in my cheeks. “I… I just want to help,” I whispered.

“And you are,” he said softly. “But you’re not alone. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

I looked at him, really looked, and something in his gaze made me falter. The tension between us, the shared nights of danger, the quiet conversations, and stolen glances… it all seemed to hang in the air, heavy and electric.

Tentatively, I leaned against him, letting the exhaustion take over for just a moment. He wrapped his arm around me, holding me close. His other hand brushed gently along my back, rubbing small circles in a way that made my chest ache. I wanted to pull away, embarrassed by how much warmth I felt, but I couldn’t.

We stayed like that in silence for a long moment. The mansion seemed to shrink around us, the world reduced to the soft rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear and the warmth of his body.

“Cassian…” I murmured, my lips barely brushing the collar of his tunic.

He tilted his head toward me, his eyes stormy and deep, searching mine. “Shh,” he whispered. “Just… breathe.”

Closer. I felt the brush of his hand against mine, the faint touch of his fingers against my wrist. My breath hitched.

Closer. I rested my forehead against his shoulder, letting the scent of him—wood, leather, and something indefinably him—fill me with a strange, thrilling comfort.

Closer. He leaned down slightly, his chest pressed against mine, his hand moving to cup my cheek gently. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

“I… I think I…” I began, voice trembling, but he just smiled softly and shook his head.

“I know,” he said, his lips so close I could feel his breath. “Me too.”

Closer. Closer. Our breaths mingled. My fingers twined with his, and he leaned a little more, as if testing the waters, unsure but wanting to cross the line.

I felt my lips nearly brush his… a heartbeat away…

And then, with a sudden plof, Rissa appeared.

“Ohhh, my precious little puppies,” she drawled, arms crossed, smirking in that infuriating, teasing way. “Getting all cozy, are we? How cute.”

I blinked, startled—and then joy and relief surged through me. “Rissa!” I cried, throwing myself into her arms, tears streaming down my cheeks. She caught me effortlessly, laughing softly at my display.

Cassian sighed, exasperated but amused, leaning back slightly. He watched me cling to Rissa, a small, frustrated smile tugging at his lips. “Figures,” he muttered, shaking his head. Yet his stormy eyes softened with that same warmth he always gave me.

Rissa chuckled, ruffling my hair. “There you are, my little puppies. Safe, happy… and still adorably pathetic.”

And for a moment, the three of us stayed like that—me sobbing into Rissa’s embrace, Cassian watching over us both, exasperated, fond, and secretly relieved that I was in Rissa’s arms again.