This chapter is told in a series of short vignettes—snapshots of Elara and Jorah returning, again and again, to the old mill. Sometimes to fuck. Sometimes to talk. Sometimes just to be in the quiet, charged space they’ve made together.
If Chapter One was the ignition, this is the slow burn. Their sex deepens—more trust, more heat, more ache. But there’s tenderness, too. Jorah listens. Elara learns what it feels like to be wanted without apology.
And the village? It’s watching. Bread marked with poems. A few heads turning. The fire is catching, one ember at a time.
“Show me,” she said. And he did. With his mouth. With his hands. With a rhythm that shook loose the old silence inside her.
More soon.
—Eric