Elowen woke choking.
The air was thick and damp, tasting of old stone and rot. Pain flared the moment she tried to move, sharp enough to steal her breath. Her limbs felt heavy, uncooperative, as though they no longer belonged entirely to her.
She became aware of heat pressed close to her side.
Too close.
Her eyes snapped open.
Kael lay beside her on the narrow stone floor, one arm braced above her head, his body angled protectively even in sleep. His breathing was shallow, uneven. Sweat darkened his collar. Faint embers glowed beneath his skin, pulsing slowly in time with her own heartbeat.
Her pulse stuttered.
The magic stirred instantly, responding to awareness, to proximity. A low hum filled the space between them, vibrating through bone and blood.
Elowen sucked in a sharp breath and pushed at his chest.
Kael's eyes flew open.
For a split second, confusion clouded his expression. Then his gaze locked onto hers, sharp and assessing, like a blade finding its mark.
"Do not move," he said.
"I was about to say the same thing," she snapped, though her voice shook.
He exhaled slowly, carefully, as if any sudden movement might tear something fragile apart. "If either of us panics, it gets worse."
"Worse than this?" she demanded.
The glow beneath his skin brightened in response.
"Yes."
She went still.
The tunnel around them was narrow and low, carved from raw stone. The air carried the distant sound of dripping water and something else beneath it, a faint rhythmic thrum that made her teeth ache.
"What is this place," she asked.
"Old catacombs," Kael replied. "Built before the kingdom learned how to lie to itself."
She frowned. "That is not an answer."
"It is the only one you get."
She glared at him. "You dragged me here without explanation, accused me of destroying your life, and now you expect me to trust you."
His mouth curved into something sharp and humorless. "Trust is irrelevant. Survival is not."
The magic surged again, flaring hot and sudden. Elowen gasped as pain lanced through her chest, bright and unbearable. She curled inward instinctively.
Kael swore under his breath.
"Stop fighting it," he said.
"I do not even know what it is."
He hesitated.
That scared her more than any lie.
"This bond," he said finally, "is older than the crown. It was designed to bind a catalyst and a conduit."
Her stomach dropped. "Which am I."
"You are the catalyst."
The words landed heavy and final.
"And you," she said quietly, "are the conduit."
"Yes."
The thrum in the air intensified, reacting to the admission.
Elowen laughed weakly. "That sounds like a disaster."
"It was meant to be," he replied. "For everyone else."
She swallowed hard. "What does it do."
Kael did not answer immediately. His gaze dropped to her throat, where her pulse fluttered visibly. The look in his eyes made her breath hitch, not with attraction but with something more dangerous. Hunger edged with restraint.
"It amplifies," he said. "Emotion. Desire. Rage. Fear. Power."
Her skin prickled.
"And," he continued, voice roughening, "it does not care about consent."
Silence pressed in around them.
Elowen felt suddenly exposed, every emotion scraping raw beneath her skin. Anger surged, followed by fear, followed by a sharp, unwelcome awareness of how close he was. How warm. How real.
The magic responded eagerly.
"No," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
Kael's jaw clenched. "If we do nothing, it will keep escalating. You felt it in the square. That was the first surge."
"And the next," she said, dread creeping in, "will be worse."
"Yes."
Her hands curled into fists. "So what do we do."
He met her gaze steadily. "We stabilize it."
"How."
"With blood."
Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs. "Absolutely not."
Kael did not flinch. "It does not require death."
"That is not comforting."
"It requires intent," he said. "A willing exchange. Enough to anchor the bond."
Her laugh was sharp and brittle. "You just told me it does not care about consent."
"It does not," he agreed. "But it responds better when consent is present."
She stared at him. "You are asking me to bleed for you."
"I am asking you," he corrected, "to bleed with me."
The magic flared again, almost approvingly.
Elowen squeezed her eyes shut. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to fight, to refuse. But the pain was building, coiling tighter with every breath. She could feel it reaching for something catastrophic.
"What happens if we do not," she asked quietly.
Kael's expression darkened. "Then it will take what it wants."
Her pulse raced.
Slowly, reluctantly, she nodded. "Fine."
He did not move immediately. Instead, he reached into his boot and drew a small blade, its edge dull with age but still sharp enough to cut.
"This must be deliberate," he said. "Look at me."
She did.
"Say stop," he added. "If you cannot finish, say it."
She swallowed. "And if you do not."
"I will," he said. "Even if it costs me."
That, more than anything else, unsettled her.
He pressed the blade lightly against his palm and drew it across the skin. Blood welled instantly, dark and vivid in the low light. The magic surged hard, responding violently.
Elowen gasped as heat ripped through her chest.
"Your turn," Kael said.
Her hands shook as she took the blade. She hesitated only a second before cutting her own palm, a sharp sting followed by warmth.
The moment their blood touched, the world lurched.
Power surged violently through the tunnel, slamming into them both. Elowen cried out as sensation overwhelmed her, every nerve lighting up at once. She felt him too, his pain, his anger, his burning restraint flooding her senses.
Kael groaned, dropping to one knee.
The bond locked.
The thrum steadied, settling into something heavy and constant.
They stared at each other, breathing hard, palms still pressed together, blood mingling.
Something had changed.
The air between them felt charged, intimate in a way that had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with danger.
Kael was the first to pull away.
"That," he said grimly, "was only the beginning."
Elowen wiped her bloody hand on her sleeve, heart pounding. "You could have warned me."
"You would not have agreed," he replied.
She glared at him. "I still do not."
His gaze lingered on her a fraction too long before he looked away. "Good."
Outside the catacombs, the kingdom was already mobilizing.
Inside, a bond had been sealed that neither of them fully understood.
And somewhere deep beneath the stone, something ancient stirred, pleased by the taste of blood and promise of what would come next.