Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone Chapter 575 - 570: Steamy?

The rain returned before their watch ended and stayed with them through the rest of the night. It came down steady and cold, soaking the cloaks and turning the ground soft under the horses’ hooves.

By morning the trail was slick. The animals moved with greater care, heads low, picking their way over wet stone and mud. Kaelara kept the column tight and the pace measured.

No one needed orders for that. Every rider understood what the silence of the intermediate stones and the empty second waystation meant. The risk had changed shape. Confirmation would only come at the third waystation, and only if the contacts were still there and still reliable.

Aiden rode near Elizabeth for most of the morning. The rain made speech difficult without raising one’s voice, so they used the small language of shared work. A glance when the trail narrowed.

A brief gesture when one of the younger scouts’ mounts slipped on a wet stone. The quiet passing of a water skin when the column halted to breathe the horses. The others kept their distance by habit and by training. The formation held.

At one such halt, under the partial shelter of a stand of pines, Elizabeth dismounted to check a loose strap on her saddlebag.

Aiden stepped in close to hold the horse’s head while she worked. Rain dripped from the branches onto their cloaks. For a moment they were screened from the others by the animals and the trees.

Her gloved fingers brushed his as she took the strap. The contact lasted longer than necessary. When she looked up, the rain had darkened her lashes and the cold had put color in her cheeks. The private thread sat between them, quieter than it had been in the temple, but no less present.

"Still with me?" she asked, voice low.

"Always." His reply was equally quiet. His hand settled briefly at the small of her back, under the edge of her cloak, warm against the damp fabric of her riding clothes.

The touch was steady and deliberate. It carried more heat than the practical excuse of steadying her on the uneven ground required. She leaned into it for the space of a breath before stepping back to finish the strap.

They remounted. The column moved on.

The trail climbed. The trees thinned in places and the higher ridges came into view through the gray. Selene checked the northern stones again and reported that the signal remained thin but stable. No new information. No confirmation from the contacts. Kaelara took the report without comment and ordered the pace held.

By early afternoon the rain had lessened to a fine, cold mist. The air stayed sharp. The horses’ breath showed white. Aiden watched the line of riders ahead and the ground behind. He had done this kind of travel before.

The silence after an empty station always pressed harder than open pursuit. You waited for the next marker and hoped the people who were supposed to meet you had not already been taken or turned.

Kaelara called a short halt near a cluster of rocks that offered partial cover from the wind. While the scouts checked the animals and the straps, Aiden found Elizabeth standing a little apart, looking north. He joined her.

"The third waystation should be visible by late tomorrow if the weather holds," he said.

"If the contacts are still there."

"Yes."

She turned her head slightly. Rain had plastered a loose strand of hair to her temple. Without thinking, Aiden reached up and smoothed it back. His fingers lingered against her skin.

The touch was small, almost practical, yet it carried the same undercurrent that had marked their quieter moments in the temple. Elizabeth’s eyes held his for a beat longer than the gesture required.

"We’re still carrying it," she said.

"We are."

The moment closed when Kaelara called the column forward again. They rode on through the thinning mist. The private thread traveled with them—quiet, deliberate, and touched now with the low heat of everything they were still choosing to protect.

The rest of the afternoon passed in the same measured way. The trail grew steeper. In places the rock underfoot was slick enough that the rear riders had to dismount and lead their animals. No one spoke more than was needed.

The younger scouts stayed close to the more experienced ones. Selene checked the stones one more time before the light began to fail and confirmed the signal had not changed. Still thin. Still stable. Still no word from the third station.

They made camp that evening in a narrow defile where the rock walls broke the worst of the wind. The rain had stopped, but the ground remained wet and the air carried the sharp promise of colder weather overnight. Watches were set in pairs.

A small fire was built low and shielded so the light would not carry far. The horses stood close-packed under a makeshift shelter of cloaks and oilcloth. Gear was checked again. Weapons stayed within reach.

Aiden drew the first watch with one of the younger scouts. They took positions at either end of the defile. The hours passed slow. Water still dripped from the rock faces.

The horses shifted now and then. The fire at the center of the camp gave off little smoke and less light. Aiden kept his eyes on the dark stretch of trail they had come from and the narrower path ahead.

He thought about the empty second station and the silence of the intermediate stones. He thought about the contacts who were supposed to be waiting. He did not let the thoughts run far. There was no use in it until they reached the place and saw what was there.

When the change of watch came, the younger scout returned to the fire. Aiden remained a few moments longer while Elizabeth settled into the position.

The defile was quiet except for the drip of water from the rocks and the occasional shift of the horses. They stood a short distance apart, close enough for low speech, far enough to maintain the proper watch angles.

"Tomorrow we reach the third station," Elizabeth said.

"Yes."

"If the contacts are gone, or compromised, everything after that becomes pursuit rather than meeting."

"I know." Aiden kept his eyes on the dark stretch of trail behind them. "We’ll adjust. We’ve done it before."

She was silent for a time. Then: "I keep thinking about the conversation we left in the temple. The possibility. The choosing. It feels farther away in the rain and the silence of the stones, but it hasn’t disappeared."

"It isn’t supposed to disappear." He glanced toward her. In the faint light from the distant fire her profile was clear, the line of her throat and the set of her shoulders familiar. "It’s supposed to travel with us. Quietly. Until we have ground solid enough to give it more weight again."

Elizabeth stepped closer, just enough that her shoulder nearly brushed his. The cold air moved between them, but the space she closed carried its own warmth.

"I miss the parts that weren’t quiet," she said, voice low enough that it almost vanished into the drip of water.

"The hours in the ruined bed. The way you looked at me when the words about a child were still new. I don’t need them here—the road doesn’t allow it—but I miss them."

Aiden’s hand found hers in the dark, gloved fingers curling around hers for a moment. Then he shifted his grip to her wrist, thumb pressing lightly against the pulse point where her glove ended and bare skin began. The touch was intimate without being reckless, a small claim in the middle of the watch.

"I miss them too," he said. "When this stretch is done—when we know what the third station holds and what the source is doing—we’ll make space again. Not just for the conversation. For the rest of it."

Her pulse moved under his thumb. She turned her hand so that her fingers could brush the inside of his wrist in return, a brief, deliberate stroke that carried more heat than the cold night should have allowed.

"I’ll hold you to that."