He pulled back from her slowly.
Eliora's chest was still rising and falling, her lips parted as she tried to steady her breathing.
Zarek's hand remained at her waist for one lingering second… like he didn't quite want to let go.
Then he did.
He stood up abruptly, turning away from the bed.
Eliora pushed herself up slightly on her elbows.
"Zar…?"
He didn't answer.
He ran a hand through his hair, shoulders tense, the kind that didn't come from anger alone but restraint.
Then he started walking toward the tent flap.
Eliora sat up properly, the fur blanket slipping slightly as she watched him.
"Zarek," she called again, softer this time.
He stopped.
One hand rested against the tent opening, and his back still to her.
For a second she thought he might just leave without saying anything. Then he turned his head a little.
His eyes were still red.
"I'll be back," he said.
