✓ 2. SHADOW HUNTER ᵇᵉˡˡᵃᵐʸ ᵇˡᵃᵏᵉ

26. the final battle

-THE FINAL BATTLE-
"Because a warrior without pain is like a warrior without purpose and a sword without a blade: powerless and incomplete."

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Sairah's fingertips glide over the defined ridges of Bellamy's abs, tracing each contour with a delicate, teasing touch. She watches as every caress makes his body shudder in response. There's a thrill in seeing the effect she has on him, an effect she had never fully realized until now.

In her life, Sairah had caused many to shiver with fear and dread, a byproduct of her strength and the aura she carried. But with Bellamy, it's different. The shudder that passes through him is not out of fear but of raw desire, a testament to the powerful connection between them. Each touch, each trace of her fingers, sends waves of pleasure through him, a clear sign of just how profoundly she affects him.

Sairah's gaze softens as she observes the way Bellamy's eyes follow her every movement. She shifts her position, resting her head on her hand, and looks down at him with a sense of growing intimacy. Bellamy's eyes, usually so strong and resolute, now carry a vulnerability and depth that she's only beginning to understand. It's a look he reserves just for her, a glimpse into his heart that she is finally starting to see.

The room around them seems to fade away as Sairah's smile grows, a tender acknowledgment of their shared moment. "We should go back to the others," she murmurs softly, the words coming more out of consideration than a desire to leave. "They're probably wondering where we are."

But Bellamy's response is immediate and firm. He shakes his head, his hands pulling her closer with a gentle insistence. With a smooth, confident motion, he shifts, positioning her so that she straddles him, her legs draped over his sides. "The others can wait," he says with a playful smile that warms his eyes. "You know how long I've waited for this?"

His fingers brush a stray lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that contrasts with the heat of their earlier moments. His touch lingers, his gaze locked onto hers with an intensity that makes her heart skip a beat.

Sairah's smile widens, her heart racing at his words and the way he looks at her. The depth of his desire and affection is undeniable, and it makes her feel cherished in a way she's never experienced before. "You can wait a little longer," she teases, her voice carrying a playful edge.

In one swift, fluid motion, she rises from her position on top of him, her body moving with a grace that leaves Bellamy watching her intently. She strides across the room towards a pile of clothes draped over one of Lexa's chairs. Her movements are confident and purposeful, but there's a lingering, teasing quality to the way she moves.

Sairah sifts through the pile of clothes with determined fingers, her mind set on finding something of Lexa's to wear. If these are truly her final moments, she wants to be surrounded by the familiar comfort of Lexa's presence, even in the form of a shirt. The thought of dying with Lexa's scent lingering on her is both bittersweet and comforting.

As she searches through the clothes, she glances back at Bellamy, who remains in the same position on the bed, his eyes unwaveringly fixed on her. "Where will you be while I look for the kill code?" she asks, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and concern.

Bellamy's response is immediate. "Next to you," he says softly. "I'm not leaving your side for even a second." There's a subtle, yet undeniable edge of possessiveness in his tone, a hint that he won't allow anything to come between them. "There's no way you're dying tonight, not on my watch."

Sairah's heart swells at his words, a faint smile touching her lips. But she quickly masks her emotions, refocusing on her task. "Good," she replies, her voice steady. "Because I'm not planning on it."