Freya watched Myra shiver, a flicker of something akin to guilt crossing her crimson eyes. While her intention with the cold bath had been to counteract the unknown effects Myra was experiencing, she hadn't fully anticipated the resulting shock and distress.

  "Rest now, Myra," Freya said softly, her voice losing its usual crispness and taking on a gentler tone. "Whatever that… surge of energy was, it has clearly taken its toll. The cold bath was meant to… recalibrate your system, to quell the intensity. Perhaps it was too abrupt."

  She moved to the edge of the bed, her gaze intent on Myra's trembling form. "Do not try to understand it now. Focus on getting warm and regaining your strength. I will return with dry clothes and something warm to drink. Just… rest." Her words carried a note of reassurance, a subtle acknowledgment that her intervention might have been more forceful than necessary. For the ancient vampire, accustomed to dealing with matters in a swift and decisive manner, the delicate nuances of human reactions were still a learning process. The sight of Myra, so weakened and vulnerable, seemed to stir a protectiveness within her, overriding her usual detached demeanor.

  Myra’s hand, still trembling slightly, reached out from beneath the edge of the velvet coverlet and gently closed around Freya’s cool fingers. Her grip was weak but surprisingly firm, a silent plea for warmth and comfort.

  “Freya,” she whispered, her eyes still wide and a little dazed, “my… my body is so cold. Would you…” She hesitated, a faint blush creeping onto her pale cheeks despite the chill that wracked her. “Would you… perhaps… lie down with me for a moment? Just… to help me get warm?”

  Her gaze flickered up to meet Freya’s, a vulnerability id bare in their emerald depths. “Is that… is that alright?” The question hung in the air, a mixture of childlike seeking of comfort and an awareness of the unusual intimacy she was requesting. The lingering effects of the strange sensations and the shock of the cold bath had left her feeling fragile and in need of reassurance, and in that moment, Freya, the ancient and powerful being, was the only presence in the dimly lit room.

  Freya’s crimson eyes widened slightly at Myra’s unexpected request. A flicker of surprise, quickly followed by a thoughtful contemption, crossed her features. The intimacy of the invitation was not lost on her, and for a moment, she simply regarded Myra, her cool hand held gently within the mortal woman’s trembling grip.

  "Myra," Freya began, her voice a low murmur, "are you certain? The warmth I possess is… different. And…" She paused, considering her words carefully. "Should I… should I remove my own garments as well?" The question was posed with a detached curiosity, yet there was an underlying awareness of the potential implications of such closeness.

  Myra’s breath hitched at Freya’s question. Her mind raced, the implications of the vampire lying beside her, unclothed, sending a fresh wave of nervous anticipation through her chilled body. She would see Freya fully, a being of immense power and otherworldly beauty. Was she truly ready for that? A part of her recoiled at the thought, the potential vulnerability too intense. Another part, however, felt a strange pull, a desire for that closeness, that warmth, despite the apprehension.

  Hesitation flickered across her face, her gaze dropping momentarily to the dark velvet of the bed. She thought of the cold that still clung to her bones, the lingering weakness, and the surprising comfort she had found in Freya’s touch. She thought of the captivating beauty she had admired, the ancient being who held both power and a strange, enigmatic allure.

  Then, lifting her gaze back to meet Freya’s, a sudden wave of resolve washed over her. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the earlier sensations, or a burgeoning trust that had developed between them, or simply the desperate need for warmth and reassurance. Whatever the reason, Myra’s answer came quickly, though her voice still trembled slightly.

  "Yes," she whispered, her emerald eyes fixed on Freya’s. "Yes, please."