---
The kiss lingered like warm firelight between them.
Soft at first—hesitant, like two souls unsure if they deserved this gentleness. Then deeper. Fiercer. Seraphina's fingers curled into Ravon's dark cloak as he cupped her face with both hands, his touch reverent… as if he was afraid she might vanish.
He pulled back just slightly, resting his forehead against hers.
"I've waited centuries," he breathed, "to feel something like this. To feel anything."
Seraphina's heart thundered. She traced the line of his jaw, her touch brushing the scar that marked him—a faint line along his cheek. She had never asked him about it. Now, her fingers lingered.
"What happened here?" she whispered.
His lips tilted into a small, sad smile. "I was betrayed. By someone I trusted with my life."
"And yet… you still let me in."
"I didn't mean to." He laughed softly, more breath than sound. "You shattered every wall I built the moment you defied me. Every time you spoke your mind… every time you didn't flinch from my darkness…"
She leaned in again, her voice like a secret, "I never feared your darkness, Ravon. I saw your loneliness. Your ache. Your longing to be more than what the world demanded of you."
His arms wrapped around her then—firm, protective. She melted into him.
For a long time, they said nothing. Just held each other in the stillness of the Eclipsed Plane, surrounded by stardust and broken illusions.
But in that silence, Seraphina felt it.
The bond deepening.
No longer just a mystical thread of power. But an emotional tether—spun from shared pain, honesty… and the beginning of love.
---
Later that night (or what passed for night in this realm)
They sat beside a flickering illusion-fire Ravon conjured with a word. Seraphina leaned into his shoulder, and for the first time in what felt like days, she laughed softly.
"You know," she said, playing with the edge of his sleeve, "you're not as terrifying as the legends say."
He arched a brow, amused. "I've slaughtered kings."
"You also warm illusion fires for cold girls and look at them like they're made of starlight."
He turned toward her then, brushing a lock of hair from her face. His thumb lingered on her cheek.
"You are made of starlight, Seraphina. I just didn't know I needed light… until you."
Her breath caught.
She leaned in again—but this time, he met her halfway.
The kiss was slower now. Intimate. Their fingers interlocked like roots seeking one another beneath the surface.
And in that kiss, Seraphina no longer felt like the girl who was marked by fate.
She felt like his.
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