Clara's Command(3/3)

The battlefield was a cacophony of chaos—clashing swords, roaring flames, and the cries of the wounded—but Clara stood tall, her sword glinting under the smoky sky. 

Her forces had held the line, their determination unshakable. Across the field, Noah's team had done the impossible: the Council's operations were in ruins, their plans thwarted.

As the smoke began to clear, Clara's heart raced not from the adrenaline of battle but from the thought of seeing him again. She scanned the horizon, her breath catching when she spotted Noah striding toward her, his jacket torn and bloodied but his eyes alight with triumph.

"You're alive," he said, his voice low and rough, as if he hadn't dared to hope.

Clara smirked, though her hands trembled as she sheathed her sword. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Noah stepped closer, his gaze scanning her for injuries. "You're hurt."

"Just a scratch," she lied, brushing off the gash on her arm. His fingers grazed the wound, gentle but insistent, and she felt a shiver run through her.

"You're a terrible liar," he muttered, his voice softening.

She laughed, the sound shaky but genuine. "And you're a terrible distraction. We won, Noah. We actually won."

"We did," he agreed, his hand lingering on her arm. "But it's not over yet."

The weight of his words settled between them, the unspoken challenges of what lay ahead. 

Clara looked up at him, her chest tightening. "We'll face it together," she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her.

Noah's eyes searched hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Together," he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

The air between them was electric, charged with unspoken words and the pull of something deeper. 

Clara's breath hitched as his gaze dropped to her lips, and she thought for a heartbeat that he might kiss her. But he stepped back, his hand falling to his side, though his eyes never left hers.

"We should regroup," he said, his voice rougher than before.

Clara nodded, though her heart ached with the nearness of what could have been. "Lead the way," she said, forcing a smile.

As they walked side by side, their shoulders brushing, Clara couldn't help but steal glances at him. Noah caught her looking and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Just making sure you're still in one piece," she teased, though her voice was softer than she intended.

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a flush through her. "I'm not going anywhere, Clara."

The promise in his words made her chest tighten, and for the first time since the battle began, she felt a flicker of hope. They had won the fight, but the real battle—the one for each other—was just beginning.