…Kael charged into the firelit night, wolves racing ahead of him, steel flashing like a second moon.
Elira stared after him, pulse drumming against her ribs.
Her name still echoed on his tongue.
I begged him not to let the sky take me back…?
The memory clawed at the edge of her mind — a falling star, a voice calling her home, a chain of light snapping—
She pressed a hand to her temples.
Moons dipped behind clouds. Flames hissed. Screams rose and died. The battle had not waited for her to make sense of anything.
"Elira!" someone shouted — not Kael, not friendly. Too close.
She stumbled backward as another creature burst through the smoke, red-cracked skin splitting as it lunged. She ducked just in time, scrambling behind a charred tree trunk. Her grip tightened around the dagger.
Fear threatened to freeze her.
But Kael's promise burned hotter:
"As long as you stay under my protection, it won't."
Whether it was threat or vow…
she would not be dead weight.
Elira exhaled, low and steady. Her heartbeat slowed. Magic hummed just beneath her skin, waiting.
The night waited too.
...Elira pushed away from the tree, forcing her feet to move toward the screams instead of away. Smoke burned her throat, but she kept going — toward Kael.
Toward the only person who might know what she was.
She found him surrounded — five Abyss-born creatures converging on him at once. His wolves tore into one, but two more broke through. Kael slashed one down, but the other drove a jagged claw deep into his side.
Blood spattered the ground.
"Elira, stay back!" he snarled.
She ignored him.
The creature turned on her — faster than she expected. Kael moved to intercept, but pain staggered him. Elira thrust her hand forward on instinct.
Silver power flared.
The blast sent both the creature and Kael flying.
"No—!" She choked on the word as Kael hit the ground hard.
She ran to him, knees skidding in the dirt. Blood seeped through his armor — too much, too fast. The serpent beneath his skin writhed angrily, pressing against bone, trying to tear free.
Kael grabbed her wrist weakly.
"Don't… touch me," he rasped.
His voice was deeper — layered with something ancient and monstrous.
Elira hesitated — then clasped his hand tighter.
"I'm not leaving you."
Silver light surged from her palm, sinking into his wound. His body arched, a growl vibrating from his chest — not human. The serpent's scales bulged under his skin before sinking back as the torn flesh knitted closed.
Kael gasped — then went still.
The battlefield had gone quiet around them. The worst of the attack had passed, for now.
"Kael?" she whispered.
His eyes fluttered open — molten steel dimmed with exhaustion. "You're trouble."
"You're welcome," she shot back, voice shaking.
Arrival at Dravenfall Fortress — Forced Closeness
Soldiers finally reached them, forming a protective circle. Elira expected Kael to push her away.
Instead, he leaned into her — all that brutal strength gone soft and heavy against her shoulder.
He needed her to stand.
And he hated it.
The march to Dravenfall was slow — Kael never once letting go of her. Whispers followed them:
"Why is the Warlord letting the mage near him?"
"She's cursed."
"She's controlling him."
The fortress gates opened with a groan. Cold torches flickered. A general strode forward, gaze sharp on Elira.
"She is to be isolated," he snapped. "She's dangerous."
Kael's hand tightened on her waist.
"She stays with me," he growled.
Silence fell like a blade.
Elira's breath caught. Her cheeks burned.
A room was prepared — only one, clearly not meant for two. The general protested again, but Kael's glare ended the argument.
Inside, Kael braced himself on a table, teeth clenched against pain returning. Elira reached for him.
He caught her wrist before she could touch his wound.
"Your magic…" His stare was fire and fear.
"It binds things. Even monsters."
Elira swallowed. "I don't want to hurt you."
"That's the problem," he whispered, voice rough.
"You already could."
Their faces were close — too close — his breath uneven, hers tangled with nerves and something warmer. She could feel him fighting the urge to pull away… and the stronger urge not to.
Outside, wolves howled beneath the rising moon.
Inside, a warlord and a forgotten star stood on the edge of something dangerous.
And neither stepped back.