A feathery touch.

Alarick could feel it as it brushed against his cheek and glided down his arm. The subtle, almost imaginary caress left nothing but a searing heat in its wake.

His body was set ablaze, aching and exhausted, but burning nonetheless. His bones were sore, his head throbbed, and his heart hammered against his ribs. Pain tore through his entirety, gripping tense muscles and tender teeth. He could neither move nor open his eyes.

Alarick resigned to the welcomed lightness that enveloped him, overtaking all his senses, and slowly drifted into undisturbed slumber.

Accalia gently stroked his hair, sensing him burrow into her touch, and smiled as he slept. Her Lycan needed all the rest he could get for his energy to be replenished and his body to recuperate. The aftermath of the shift had finally settled in, and it'd take a while for him to recover.

Silence blanketed the room and faint rays filtered through the window as the curtains flapped slightly. Accalia watched the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Warmth enveloped her body as she sank into the mattress, and a sense of peace settled over her. Heaviness slowly tugged at her eyes until they fluttered shut and soft snores emanated from her.

Alarick stirred, a faint groan escaping his lips as he shifted on the bed. His brows furrowed slightly, and his eyelids flickered before slowly opening to reveal drowsy, silver orbs. He blinked a few times, trying to orient himself.

As his senses gradually sharpened, he became aware of the softness of the bed. His palms spread over the silky sheets beneath him and moved until they reached his damp skin. He was drenched in sweat.

Alarick found sitting up to be quite a challenge, feeling unsteady and light-headed as if he had been immobile for an extended period. Frowning, he reached up to hold his head, waiting for the dizziness to pass and his vision to clear.

Then, his gaze swept around the room. It was pitch black. The curtains were drawn shut, and there was neither a fire crackling nor a candle flickering.

Yet, despite the utter absence of light, Alarick's sight remained unaffected and he could see just fine.

As a wolf, a creature accustomed to the darkness of the night, his vision was already keen. However, after his Moon healed him, his senses were heightened a thousandfold. Now, as a Lycan, it felt...different.

It was him, but not entirely. Everything seemed new and strange but in a good way.

Alarick stood up, enjoying the cold floor under his feet. It was a welcomed coolness to his sweltering skin. A soft breeze brushed his body and he glanced down. The cloak Accalia gave him was gone.

"Fur substitute," he mumbled, recalling what she'd said, picked up the silky sheets, and messily draped them over himself.

Proud of his work, Alarick sniffed the air before padding out of the room. He ought to find her, for only she could soothe the aches in his heart, soul, and body.

The corridor was dim and abandoned, yet still clinging to life with scattered, shy flames flickering along its walls. Large windows stretched from end to end, reaching high to the ceiling. Faint silver rays filtered through, dispelling the looming obscurity and suffocating loneliness that shrouded the place.

The intricate shapes on the glass danced like murky shadows across the navy carpet as he ambled from one long hallway to another, her scent guiding him through uncharted territory.

Alarick marveled at his surroundings, captivated by their remoteness. The spacious halls exuded an aura of grandeur, with tall ceilings and elegant doorways. Smooth marble floors gleamed under the soft light of shimmering chandeliers that hung overhead, battling infinitely with the darkness that threatened to obnubilate everything.

Furniture, in all shapes and shades of cerulean and argent, filled the rooms in a way that made up for the lack of inhabitants. Long, light curtains pooled at the ground and swayed gently, seeking to add some life to the emptiness that permeated the inside.

It starkly contrasted the natural world he had known as a wolf. Never having ventured close enough to human dwellings, this was his first encounter with such opulence.

Alarick was utterly mesmerized, wide eyes taking in the breathtaking beauty surrounding him. Descending the wide, spiraling staircases, he found the first floor to be just as magnificent as the one above. Yet, there lingered still a sense of solitude and scattered hints of a past life now slowly fading.

His Moon, it seemed, has perfected the life of an aonaran.

The dim moon rays fought hard against the tenebrous atmosphere of the place, and Alarick decided that the coldness surrounding him wasn't due to the lack of warmth, but to the absence of love. It reminded him of his time running aimlessly through the dense woods, sad and without a purpose until the Moon called for him and he answered. It was his devotion to his beloved that saved him.

The castle was on the brink of abandonment, hanging on to existence with a fine, silver thread of hope.

Alarick vowed to chase the tenebrosity away from his ethereal beauty. A faint smile curved his lips when his eyes landed on her oblivious form. His heart swelled as he approached her silently. Despite the lingering fatigue from his transformation, he felt contentment and comfort wash over him in her presence.

Unlike before, her dress, akin to a moonless night adorned with faint stars, pooled around her feet, blending seamlessly with the surrounding gloom. As he watched her gaze down at the vast lands beneath, he couldn't help but wonder...how could someone who breathed life into barrenness live within such despondent lifelessness?

Accalia only noticed him when his body brushed her side. She looked up, startled, and placed a hand atop her heart. "Oh, my," she breathed. "I'm not accustomed to having guests."

Alarick paused, his brow furrowing in thoughts, then grimaced slightly. Eventually, his expression settled into one of apology. "My apologies."

Chuckling softly, Accalia covered her face with her hands, mumbling, "Heavens, you are too endearing, Alarick."

Before he could fully process it, his fingers moved instinctively, tucking wisps of her hair that obscured her twinkling aquamarines from his bright moonstones. "You, as well."

Her breath caught in her throat, and her eager eyes lifted, feasting on his handsome features. Her arm lifted, reaching to trace his exposed collarbone. Alarick stiffened under her touch, his attention fixated on her neck. It was hidden away from his hungry gaze, yet looked succulent nonetheless. He licked his lips, glancing at where skin met skin.

For some reason, his voice came out a whisper when he spoke, "What is your name?"

"Accalia."

"Accalia," he repeated, enjoying the way it rolled off his tongue. Then, his mouth stretched into a boyish smile. "A beautiful name."

Warmth colored her cheeks pink, and her hand stilled before it dropped to her side. She hadn't expected him to learn to speak as quickly as he did. An otherworldy bond had formed between them ever since he began singing his devotion to her every night. Then, when she saved him, their connection grew until his transformation solidified it. Now, a part of her essence resided within him, and his very existence was imbued with the moon's blessings.

It was, indeed, no wonder he'd grown so powerful in the past few weeks while resting.

"Weeks?" Alarick frowned.

Accalia mirrored his expression. Then, gradually, her eyes widened as realization dawned on her, astonishment and curiosity flashing across her face. 

"Can you...hear my thoughts?"

Word count: 1272.

Total word count: 8046.

8K milestone✔

"Moon" refers to Accalia, and "moon" refers to the actual sphere of light, btw. It's not a mistake, it's used intentionally.

MEANING OF THE WORDS USED:

Aonaran: (n.) a person who lives in self-imposed isolation or seclusion from the world.