Chapter 8
by 
Yelawolf
Do you want to try your luck with one of the ladies?
You pick Shadowheart
The camp is quiet, the fire reduced to glowing embers. The others have retreated to their tents, leaving you alone under the starlit sky. Your thoughts drift to Shadowheart—her guarded demeanor, her quiet strength, the way her eyes soften when she thinks no one is looking.
You find yourself standing outside her tent, hesitating. The flap is slightly open, and you can see her sitting inside, her fingers tracing the edges of the artifact. She looks up as you approach, her expression unreadable.
“Can’t sleep?” she asks, her voice soft.
You step inside, the tent feeling smaller with the two of you in it. “Not really. Too much on my mind.”
She sets the artifact aside, her gaze meeting yours. “Join the club.”
You sit across from her, the air between you charged with unspoken tension. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then, you break the silence.
“Shadowheart… I know you’ve got your secrets. Your obligations. But I want you to know… you’re not alone in this.”
Her eyes flicker with something—vulnerability, perhaps. “You don’t know what you’re saying. My life… it’s not simple. It’s not safe.”
“Neither is mine,” you reply, leaning closer. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find moments of peace. Moments of… connection.”
She studies you, her expression softening. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
You reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She doesn’t pull away. “I care about you, Shadowheart. More than I probably should.”
Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she looks like she might retreat. But then she leans into your touch, her voice barely a whisper. “This is dangerous. For both of us.”
“I know,” you say, your hand cupping her cheek. “But sometimes… danger is worth it.”
She closes her eyes, her resolve crumbling. When she opens them again, there’s a fire in her gaze—one that mirrors your own. “Then… don’t stop.”
The distance between you vanishes as your lips meet, the kiss tentative at first, then deepening as the tension between you ignites. Her hands find yours, intertwining your fingers as she pulls you closer. The world outside the tent fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the moment.
When you finally pull apart, her cheeks are flushed, her breathing uneven. She rests her forehead against yours, her voice trembling. “This… complicates things.”
You smile, brushing your thumb over her knuckles. “Complicated can be good.”
She laughs softly, the sound like music. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, here you are,” you tease, earning a playful swat on the arm.
For the first time since the crash, Shadowheart looks at peace. She leans against you, her head resting on your shoulder. “Just… don’t make me regret this.”
“Never,” you promise, holding her close. You didn't have sex with yet, but you could tell next camp site, if you don't do anything to terrible, you'll have yourself some sweet Shar follower pussy.
The night stretches on, the two of you wrapped in each other’s warmth. For now, the tadpoles, the Absolute, and the looming threat of ceremorphosis feel far away. In this moment, there’s only you and her—and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll find a way through this together.