Terrible Enemy

 

The door slammed open, and a gust of wind and snow billowed into the small log cabin. Dain staggered inside, half-frozen and exhausted, but still wearing that same maddening smirk. The same one he wore last time he nearly bled out on Selene’s floor. Selene didn’t rise from her chair by the fireplace. She just stared. Mud-crusted boots, ice clinging to his tunic, and a light powder contrasting his dark hair. Her jaw clenched.

“You shouldn’t have come,” she said flatly. “I told you not to return.”

Dain’s smile widened slightly. “I know. But I remembered the way back.”

Silence hung between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Finally, Selene stood, every movement precise and stiff.

“You’re not welcome here.”

“It didn’t seem to matter the first time.”

Selene’s eyes narrowed. “You think just because I saved you once, I won’t turn you in this time?”

Something flickered behind his eyes, a flash of fear gone in a heartbeat. But she saw it. It was the same look he had worn the night she found him bleeding out in the snow.

 

He was barely conscious when she came upon him. Half buried in snow, his armour torn open and blood painting the ground around him. One look at the red sigil on his chest and she knew he was the enemy. She walked closer to him, her boots crunching on the snowfall. The noise caused him to stir from his daze, and he looked at her. Confusion marked his face, replaced quickly by fear when he recognized the sigils she wore. His breathing grew heavier, eyeing the dagger on her hip as she closed the distance between them. She should’ve left him. Should’ve slit his throat or turned him over to the soldiers. But that look. The one of fear that made her realize that he was no different to any other injured person in need. And that was her duty as a healer. To aid those in need, to tend to the wounded, no matter who they were. She crouched beside him and reached out a hand to cup his cheek.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said softly. “I’m here to help.”

Eyes wide, never leaving hers, he nodded slowly. She began steadily pulling the armour away, revealing a deep gash along his side. From the bag on her hip, she retrieved gauze and antiseptic and started tending to the wound.

“What’s your name?” she asked, unravelling a bandage.

“Dain,” the man said bluntly.

She nodded. “I’m Selene.” She wrapped the bandage around his side, and he grimaced as she shifted him.

“Now this will only hold for a little while, but it will keep you alive. We need to get you back to my lodge where it is warm and I can treat you properly.”

Dain began to protest, before Selene cut him off.

“I made an oath to help those in need, regardless of where they are from. Now we need to move quickly before someone sees us. Unless you want to stay and take your chances with any soldiers nearby.”

She reached her hand out to him. After a moment’s hesitation, Dain begrudgingly took it. He groaned in pain as she pulled him to his feet. With Dain leaning heavily on her, Selene began the slow walk back toward her lodge, silently praying no one from her clan would see them.

 

It took far longer than normal but they managed to reach the lodge, Selene dragging more than supporting Dain through the last stretch. She pushed the door open, and they stumbled inside, snow swirling behind them as it slammed shut. The fire she’d banked before leaving still burned low, throwing steady heat into the room. Without a word, she guided him to the table near the hearth, her movements sharp and efficient. Selene laid him down, the wood creaking under his weight. She disappeared for a moment, returning with fresh bandages, salves, and a needle. Selene paused, then with a swift tug, stripped off the tattered tunic he wore, revealing the muscle beneath – honed, scarred, and tense from the cold. The bandage she’d applied earlier had soaked through. As she peeled it off, her gaze flicked to the strength in his chest, the rise and fall of it as he breathed.

“If you wanted an excuse to undress me, you could’ve just asked,” he said with a smirk.

Selene rolled her eyes and pressed a cloth to the wound – firm and unforgiving. A ghost of a smile crossed her lips as he flinched.

“You just focus on not dying for me,” she said sarcastically. “Do that for me, at least.”

Dain chuckled. “I’ll try to survive. For your sake.”

 

Once the wound was clean, Selene grabbed the needle and held it over the nearby flames.

“I need to stitch the wound closed, so this is going to hurt a bit,” she said.

Dain gave a crooked smile. “Well, I nearly died today. This can’t be much worse.”

Selene rolled her eyes again and began silently working the needle and thread into his skin. Dain flinched.

“Tell me,” he murmured, voice low, “do you treat all your enemies this gently?”

“Just the ones I don’t accidentally kill,” Selene replied, her tone dry as she focused on her task.

Dain huffed a laugh. “Good thing I’m feeling lucky today.”

A flicker of amusement crossed her lips, and she smiled to herself.

 

Once she was finished, Selene wrapped a fresh bandage around Dain’s chest, making sure it was tight to stay in place. She helped him to his feet and guided him to the couch by the fire.

“You need to rest,” she said gently. “I’ll get you something for the pain.”

She turned back to her satchel and pulled out a small sprig of herb and handed it to him.

“Eat this. It’ll help you sleep.”

Dain took it from her, his usual smirk fading into something softer.

“Thank you,” he said, sincere this time. “Really.”

He chewed the herb quickly and swung his legs up, laying down on the couch. Selene grabbed a nearby blanket and draped it over him.

Within moments, his breathing had slowed deep and even. The room settled into quiet save for the soft crackle of the fire, and the wind howling faintly beyond the walls.

 

Selene watched over him through the night. When he woke – feverish and confused – she reassured him until he calmed down, smiling at her like she was the morning sun through the frost.

“You’re a terrible enemy,” he murmured, voice hoarse, before drifting back to sleep.

She hated the warmth that flowed through her when he said that.

By morning, the worst had passed. He was weak, but stable. Strong enough to leave, he insisted. Selene packed him a small satchel with more herbs for the pain, and fresh bandages, pressing it into his hands at the door.

“Don’t come back,” she told him, her voice low and even.

Dain met her eyes. “I won’t.”

But she saw the lie there. Clear as the frost on the windows. She knew he would. She didn’t stop him; didn’t say anything. Just watched as he stepped out into the snow and vanished from sight. And now, he was here. Standing in her doorway again. Covered in snow, smirking and impossible to forget.

 

“You know you can’t be here,” she hissed, her voice in a panic. “If anyone sees you– “

“I’ll be dead. I know.” His eyes never left hers.

“No, they’d kill me too!” she snapped. “Did you even think about that?”

“I did,” he said, closing the door and shutting out the cold behind him. “But I had to see you.”

Selene took a step back, her hand slipping to the dagger she carried at her hip. She unsheathed it in one smooth motion.

“Bringing you here last time was a mistake.”

Dain began to advance, slowly, confidently. Not threatening. Worse. Deliberate.

“Tell me to go,” he said. “Say it, and I’ll walk out of here.”

Her grip tightened on the dagger.

Dain took another step. “Say you don’t want me here.”

Another step. She could smell him now — worn leather, winter wind, and the ache of desire.

“Say you want me gone,” he whispered. “And I’ll go.”

He was right in front of her now. Eyes burning. Breaths shallow. Close enough to kiss. Close enough to kill. The dagger trembled in her hand.

“You should… Her voice cracked.

But she didn’t say the words. Instead, she let the blade fall.

“Stay,” she breathed.

And when he kissed her, it was everything she feared – and everything she desired – all at once.”