The days following her hesitant decision to join the cabin’s activities were strangely easier than Lilia had expected. She had been cautious at first, keeping to herself, but slowly—almost imperceptibly—something was changing.

  It wasn’t just Edian’s presence that made her feel less like an outsider; it was the others, too. Her bunk mates, who had once felt like distant strangers, were becoming more familiar. They offered small conversations, the kind that didn’t require much of a response, but enough to make her feel like part of something. A few of them even tried to include her in their activities, though she still resisted most of their invitations at first.

  But today was different.

  She had been sitting at the long table in the mess hall, the low hum of conversation around her, when a plate was placed in front of her. It was a honeycomb dessert, the glistening golden honey oozing over the edges of a soft, flaky crust. The sweet, warm scent filled the air, and she couldn’t help but glance at it.

  “Go on,” Friden said with a teasing smile. “It’s better than it looks.”

  Lilia hesitated, her fingers curling around her fork. She hadn’t eaten much recently—mostly picking at her meals when she thought no one was watching. But this time, the thought of the honeycomb dessert almost felt… comforting. It was something familiar, something enticing.

  With a quiet breath, she took a bite. The sweetness exploded in her mouth, and she felt a momentary shock—like she hadn’t realized how hungry she was for something more than just survival. She didn’t stop at one bite. The rest of the dessert was gone in minutes, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a small sense of satisfaction.

  Around her, her bunk mates exchanged approving glances and grins, and even Edian, who had been sitting nearby, gave her a nod of approval.

  As the days passed, she found herself eating more regularly, sitting with the others at meals, participating in small conversations she would’ve usually ignored.

  *

  The Elders had noticed the change as well. They began to watch Edian with increasing approval, their gazes softened with approval as they saw how his influence had drawn her out of the shell she’d been hiding in.

  But Edian—Edian noticed something else entirely.

  He had always been able to see strength in Lilia, but now? It wasn’t just admiration anymore—it was something different, something that tightened in his chest whenever he looked at her.

  Lilia stood beneath the soft, fading light of dusk, her curly red hair catching the last of the sunlight, a cascade of fiery tendrils against the cool backdrop of the sky. Her blue eyes, deep and quiet like the ocean, were lost in thought, a subtle flicker of vulnerability in their depths. She looked like a flame, wild yet tempered by a quiet sadness, her stance closed, as if shielding herself from the world around her.

  Edian, by contrast, was a contrast of warmth and openness. His tan skin seemed to glow under the soft glow of the setting sun, giving him an almost weathered look. His blond hair, tousled and carefree, framed a face full of soft, brown eyes that had seen both kindness and the ache of things unsaid. There was a quiet intensity to him—like a storm brewing just beneath the surface, always trying to keep its calm, but often struggling with what lay beneath.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  As he watched her, he knew he was falling for her.

  He wasn’t sure when it started, or how it had snuck up on him, but there was no denying it now. Every smile, every small moment of warmth she shared with him made his heart race. And when she looked at him—really looked at him—the world seemed to stop for a moment, leaving him feeling raw and primal.

  *

  The atmosphere in the mess hall was light, filled with the hum of idle chatter and the clink of silverware. Lilia sat near the edge of the table, her posture still reserved but a little more relaxed than before. She hadn’t been in the mood to talk much, but today, the chatter seemed less overwhelming.

  Sitting across from her was Liam, a lanky boy with a sharp sense of humor that Lilia had initially found grating. But today, Liam seemed unusually quiet as he leaned forward, poking at his plate of vegetables. “I swear,” he muttered, “there’s something about that soup. It’s like… a flavor I can’t quite place.”

  Lilia raised an eyebrow, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “What kind of flavor?”

  Liam tilted his head. “I don’t know. Like… disappointment, maybe? Or betrayal.” He grinned, and Lilia couldn’t help but laugh softly.

  “You know what, you’re kind of right actually, it does…” Lilia agreed, her voice surprisingly light. The laughter came easier than she expected. It was a genuine sound, not forced, like the walls around her were crumbling just a little more with every passing day.

  Julian, the quieter of the group, looked up from his plate with a shy smile. “I think it’s just, like, overly seasoned,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t mind it, though. Gives everything a kick…”

  Lilia turned toward him, a bit surprised by his sudden input. Julian had always been a little off to the side, observing more than participating. “You actually like it?” she asked, her tone curious.

  “Yeah, it’s not so bad.” Julian gave a half-shrug, his rich chocolate hair falling into his eyes. He pushed it back absently, focusing on his food. “I don’t mind weird food. It keeps things interesting.”

  Lilia nodded, her gaze flicking between the two of them. It was strange, this shift. She hadn’t expected to be part of something that felt like—well, normal. She had spent so long in her own head, trying to shield herself from any kind of attachment, any reminder of what she was missing. And yet, here they were, bantering over something as simple as the taste of soup.

  Behind her, Edian laughed, his voice ringing through the hall. “You all are insane if you think this is bad,” he said, waving a spoon around as though he were giving a lecture. “You want bad, just try the mashed potatoes from last week. Those were a crime against taste buds.”

  Lilia glanced over her shoulder at him. His casual, carefree presence had always made her feel a little uneasy—like she wasn’t sure whether to admire him or cling to him. But today? Today, his laughter felt genuine rather than forced.

  “Edian, don’t even start,” Liam shot back, mock glaring at him. “You ate them all. You literally went back for seconds.”

  He grinned unapologetically. “Guilty. But only because they were… inoffensive.”

  Julian chuckled softly under his breath, and Lilia found herself caught up in the ease of it all. She was surrounded by people—people who didn’t ask anything of her. People who didn’t force her to be something she wasn’t ready to be. For once, she felt like she didn’t have to hide in the shadows, retreat into herself. It was a small thing, a step forward, but it was progress.

  Lilia took a slow breath, almost as if testing the air, and then reached for the breadbasket. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now. Without thinking too much about it, she picked up a piece of bread and tore it in half, dipping it into the leftover sauce from her honeycomb dessert earlier. No one watched her. No one cared. It was just her being… here. Present.

  “You’re eating more,” Edian commented lightly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice.

  Lilia didn’t look at him, but she felt the heat of his gaze on her. She shrugged, her fingers still playing with the bread. “Guess I’m just surrendering to the human body,” She sighed dramatically. It wasn’t the food—it was the sense of belonging she was beginning to feel, the connection she hadn’t realized she’d been missing that was warming her body from toes to scalp.

  The others continued to talk, the noise filling the space around her, but it didn’t feel suffocating anymore. It felt like home.

  And for the first time, Lilia realized she wasn’t afraid of being a part of it.