Night settled quietly over the Hawk Clan mountains.
Far from the arena and the lingering echoes of victory, Lin Yue's cave glowed with soft firelight. The space was warm, carved smooth by time and lined with furs and dried herbs. Outside, the wind howled—but inside, it felt like a world belonging only to them.
Feng Lihan sat on a stone bench, wings partially folded. His crimson feathers were dulled where blood had dried along the cut on his shoulder.
"Hold still," Lin Yue murmured.
He knelt close, fingers careful as he cleaned the wound with warm water infused with healing herbs. His brows were drawn tight, concentration mixed with lingering fear.
"You scared me today," Lin Yue said quietly.
Feng Lihan watched him, eyes soft. "I won."
"That's not the point."
A faint huff of amusement left Feng Lihan's lips. "You're braver when you're angry."
Lin Yue shot him a look, then sighed. "You're impossible."
Still, his hands were gentle. He applied salve, then wrapped the shoulder securely, making sure no feathers were trapped beneath the cloth. When he finished, he sat back, studying Feng Lihan's face.
"You're really… the Acting Chief now," Lin Yue said.
"Yes," Feng Lihan replied simply. "And I'm alive. Healthy." He tilted his head slightly. "Thanks to you."
Lin Yue's ears warmed. "Anyone would have done this."
Feng Lihan lifted a hand and caught Lin Yue's wrist before he could pull away. His thumb brushed lightly against Lin Yue's skin.
"No," he said. "Only you."
The fire cracked softly.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Feng Lihan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Lin Yue's lips—slow, deliberate, full of gratitude and restrained longing. Lin Yue froze for half a breath, then melted into it, fingers curling into Feng Lihan's clothes.
The kiss deepened, but remained tender. When they finally parted, Lin Yue rested his forehead against Feng Lihan's.
"You're smiling," Lin Yue whispered.
"I'm happy," Feng Lihan replied. "I survived. I won. And I'm here."
Lin Yue smiled too, small and real.
Later, they lay together on the furs, the fire reduced to embers. Feng Lihan's wings curved protectively around Lin Yue, crimson feathers shielding him from the cold night air. Lin Yue fit against his chest as if he had always belonged there.
Outside the cave, footsteps passed—clan members on patrol.
Some paused.
They saw the glow of the fire. The unmistakable red feathers. The quiet closeness.
No one interrupted.
Word had already spread through the Hawk Clan: the Acting Chief had chosen his mate. A male mate. The one who stood by him without fear during the duel.
There were whispers, of course—but no objections.
Strength commanded respect. And Feng Lihan's strength was unquestionable.
Inside the cave, Lin Yue listened to Feng Lihan's steady heartbeat.
"Will things change now?" Lin Yue asked softly.
"Yes," Feng Lihan said. "They'll be harder."
Lin Yue lifted his head to look at him. "Then I'll stay."
Feng Lihan's arms tightened around him. "Good. Because I don't intend to face anything without you."
Under the shelter of crimson wings, the future felt uncertain—but not frightening.
That night, beneath stone and fire and feathers, the Hawk Clan's new Chief rested not as a warrior—
But as a man in love.