Forging Ash of The beloved
Book One: Air and ash and all We Lost
By Jesse Annette
Posted: March 5th, 2026
Length: approx. 2k words
Content Note: 2x spicy
Daria- Unfair
She was going to kill her. Daria clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms until her knuckles whitened. Her control slipped, just enough for heat to lick up her arms. Austra was too much. Too bright. Too alive. Too skilled at pulling feelings out of Daria that should have stayed buried. She closed her eyes and forced a slow breath. She wanted her. She hated wanting her. She hated that she couldn’t stop. When she opened her eyes again, Austra was watching her with a flicker of concern softening her sharp grin.
“You okay?” Austra asked quietly.
Daria stepped closer before she could stop herself, her voice low and strained. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Oh?” Austra said, steady, unflinching.
“Everything about you is unfair,” Daria admitted, the words scraping out of her.
Austra closed the distance until their foreheads brushed and gently covered Daria’s clenched fists with her own. “Daria,” she whispered, “kiss me again.”
That was it. Daria stopped fighting. She kissed Austra, slow at first, then with hunger, then like she was reclaiming something she’d denied herself for far too long.
Austra- Their Night
She kissed Daria back instantly, desperation answering restraint. Her hands tangled in Daria’s hair as Daria grabbed the front of her shirt, hauled her down the hall, shoved her into her quarters, and slammed the door behind them. Austra gasped, breathless laughter slipping free, only to be swallowed by another kiss as Daria pinned her against the door. Wind sparked at Austra’s fingertips, lantern flames flaring wildly as their bodies pressed together. Heat and cool air tangled. Austra arched into every touch, every sound, every fierce, claiming moment.
Daria’s hands moved with purpose along her sides, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was perfect. Daria kissed like she fought: focused, relentless, devastating.
“I knew you wanted me,” Austra murmured against her mouth.
“Shut up,” Daria muttered, biting her lip.
Austra grinned. “Make me.”
The sound Daria made went straight through her. Daria pinned Austra’s wrists above her head, unyielding, heat rolling off her in waves that Austra felt through her clothes.
“Austra,” Daria growled into her ear, “you have no idea what you’re asking.”
Austra shivered. “I really think I do.”
Wind curled instinctively around Daria’s hips. Her breath hitched once before she crowded closer, thigh between Austra’s, lips hovering just out of reach.
“Stop using your magic on me,” Daria whispered, restraint fraying.
“I’m not,” Austra breathed, and it was true. Her magic was moving on its own, answering something she hadn’t yet named.
Daria swore softly, reverently, and then kissed her again, deeper, need tearing loose all at once. Austra whimpered, and Daria pressed fully into her, holding her there like she meant to keep her.
“I missed you,” Austra whispered, breaking for breath.
“Don’t,” Daria said hoarsely, forehead resting against hers. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t survive wanting you like this.”
Austra met her gaze, heart splitting open. “Then don’t survive,” she said gently. “Want me.”
For a heartbeat, Daria froze, caught between discipline and desire. Something in Daria’s expression shattered. Desire won, and she kissed Austra again, fierce and aching, then lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the narrow bed. Austra wrapped herself around her, kissing her like she’d been waiting her entire life for this moment.
Daria laid her down with unexpected gentleness before leaning over her, hair falling around them both.
“You’re impossible,” Daria murmured.
“You like that about me,” Austra replied.
Daria answered with a kiss, slow now, deep, unhurried, hands tracing Austra’s ribs as if memorizing her. Wind and fire softened, tangled, went wild and warm.
Austra broke the kiss with a soft gasp, cupping Daria’s cheek. “Daria,” Austra whispered. “I want you…I’ve wanted you since the overlook.”
Daria’s eyes softened, truly softened, for the first time in weeks. “You’re going to ruin me.”
“Then let me,” Austra said, brushing her thumb along Daria’s mouth.
Daria kissed her again, surrender, confession, claim, all at once. Austra kissed her back, pulling her down, pulling her in, until there was no space left between them. Daria’s hand dipped down from her stomach to in between her thighs and Austra bit back a moan. The lanternlight dimmed. Austra playfully tugged Daria’s shirt over her head, and soon all of their clothing was on the floor. Wind curled around their bodies. Heat rose in a slow, molten wave. Hours blurred as they roamed and devoured each other.
When dawn finally broke, Austra lay half-draped over Daria and whispered into her shoulder, “…Wow.”
“Go to sleep,” Daria muttered sleepily.
Austra kissed her neck. “You like me.”
“I regret everything.”
Austra snorted. Daria elbowed her. Austra poked back. Daria caught her wrist.
“I think you’re smiling,” Austra whispered.
“I am not.”
“You so are.”
“Shut up.”
Austra finger-gunned from inches away. Daria groaned and buried her face in a pillow. Austra fell asleep grinning.
Daria- That Morning
She couldn’t deny it anymore. She wanted Austra…the way she laughed and fought, the way she hid pain behind flirtation and kept moving even when she was exhausted, the way she made the darkest tunnels feel bright. She wanted her in every way a person could want someone. And that terrified her.
As Austra slept tangled in her arms, breath soft against Daria’s collarbone, Daria allowed herself, just for that stolen night, to admit the truth. She was falling. Fast. And she had no idea how badly it was going to hurt.
She woke well after dawn that morning, thank the gods for rest days, she thought. A week of new Oathsworn trials and interviews lay behind her; today would bring squad placements. She stretched, feeling stiff and warm and impossibly comfortable. Then she realized why.
Austra was draped across her like a blanket, face tucked into Daria’s throat, one leg slung over her hips, fingers curled into the bedding at Daria’s waist as if holding on even in sleep. Daria froze, heart hammering, every disciplined instinct screaming at her to move. To get up. To put distance between them. Instead, she stayed. For one long, dangerous moment, she let herself absorb the softness she’d denied for weeks. Austra breathed her name in her sleep, quiet, tender, unarmored. Daria was ruined.
When Austra finally stirred, Daria shot upright so fast she nearly fell out of bed. She muttered something about needing to “prepare for the day,” which might have sounded convincing if she hadn’t dressed entirely out of order: boots before pants, shirt inside out, knife belt backwards.
Austra leaned against the bedpost in nothing but Daria’s discarded shirt, watching with a lazy, post-kiss smile that made Daria’s hands shake as she tried, and failed, to braid her hair.
Nothing had ever been more humiliating. She didn’t look at Austra as they dressed and left her quarters, walking two careful paces apart even though their hands brushed more than once. Her chest felt too tight. Her pulse too fast. She was a commander. A Cross. She had no business wanting anyone this much.
Then they reached the central hall. The official squad assignment postings had already been nailed to the stone wall. Daria’s mask cracked for a single heartbeat as she read. Of course, her mother had told her beforehand. Of course, she’d argued about strategy, about the encroaching Zephyrian patrols, about the shifting tensions in Pyronous, the whispers of a more volatile rebellion forming in the shadows. Of course, none of it had mattered. Her mother had insisted that Austra would be invaluable under her command.
And there it was: Austra. Oathsworn. Squad Assigned: Commander Cross.
Daria didn’t dare look at her. She kept a perfectly professional distance, eyes fixed on the stone, already knowing exactly what expression she’d find if she turned.
Austra- The Placement
Austra woke to warmth. To steady breathing. To a heartbeat beneath her cheek. To Daria’s arms around her. For a few precious seconds, she forgot everything, forgot she was a spy, forgot her lies, forgot the Queendom. All that existed was the way Daria’s fingers had curled protectively at her waist sometime during the night. She didn’t move. She didn’t want to break the spell.
Daria stirred anyway, inhaled sharply, body going rigid, like she’d been caught committing treason. She extracted herself with military efficiency that might have worked if she hadn’t immediately tripped over the edge of her boot. Austra bit back a smile. Watching Daria dress was the most beautiful disaster she’d ever seen. She tried to re-braid her hair three times, muttered curses under her breath, and refused to make eye contact the entire time. Austra leaned against the wall, chin propped on her hand, warm and soft and, she admitted it, a little smug.
She didn’t say Last night was incredible. She did not say I think I’m falling for you. She said, lightly, “Your shirt’s inside-out.”
Daria nearly combusted.
The walk to the main cavern was a comedy of near-touches and accidental brushes, both of them pretending nothing had happened while their bodies remembered everything. When the assignment postings came into view, Austra nudged through the crowd, barely paying attention until she saw it.
Her name. Written in the bold red script of the High Priestess. Under Daria’s squad. For a moment, her breath left her. She read it twice, just to be sure. Austra. Oathsworn. Squad Assignment: Commander Cross.
A slow, giddy warmth spread through her chest, uncontainable. She turned toward Daria. The Commander looked bored, professional, entirely unaffected, except for the faint flush along her cheeks. Officially assigned. By decree. Something between a reward and a punishment.
Austra nudged her gently. Daria looked. They locked eyes. Daria didn’t look away. Not this time. Austra smiled. Then winked. Then, because she was herself, she gave a tiny, subtle finger-gun low by her hip. Daria inhaled so sharply she nearly choked. Austra felt lighter than air.
The rest of the day blurred, briefings, conversations, plans, new barrack assignments, all of it an exercise in pretending her heart wasn’t beating out of rhythm. She kept replaying the night in flashes: Daria’s hands, her voice, the way she’d softened in the dark, only to lock it all away again by morning. She told herself she wasn’t waiting for anything, wasn’t hoping for a look or a word.
As the hours bled into night and the tunnels quieted, her feet carried her forward without permission. She told herself she was just walking. Just thinking. Just burning off restless energy. Then she lifted her head and found herself standing at Daria’s door. Midnight pressed close. The ember sconces sputtered low. Austra swallowed, pulse fluttering, the truth settling heavy and clear: she hadn’t come here by accident. She missed her. She wanted her. And she was here because some part of her hoped, desperately, that Daria wanted her too.
She knocked softly. The door opened immediately. Daria stood rigid, jaw tight. Austra stepped inside, heart stuttering as the door clicked shut behind her. Silence stretched.
Then Daria said, very softly, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Austra blinked. “Since this morning?”
“No.” Daria’s voice was barely audible. “Since the tunnels.”
Heat flooded Austra’s chest. She stepped closer. “Then let’s do something about it.”
Daria exhaled, a long, shaky release, like she’d been holding her breath for weeks. When she kissed Austra this time, it was different. Rawer. Controlled need finally breaking free. Every touch was deliberate. Every kiss slow enough to undo her piece by piece. Every breath shared like something precious. They melted together in Daria’s bed, whispers, soft caresses, quiet bliss.
Hours later, Daria lay on her back staring at the ceiling, chest still rising fast. Austra traced slow circles over her sternum.
“You okay?” Austra asked.
Daria swallowed. “I don’t… know how to feel this.”
Austra kissed her temple. “You don’t have to know. Just feel it.”
Daria closed her eyes, and leaned into her, just a fraction.
© 2026 Jesse Annette. All rights reserved.
Forging Ash of the Beloved 
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