Selene moved like a shadow.
Even during training, she was a blur of focus and fire. Her strikes were calculated, her footwork sharp. But today… she was off.
Distracted.
One slip of concentration; one second too slow, and the blade grazed her shoulder before she could block.
"Selene!" Kael's voice thundered across the training yard.
She hissed through her teeth, pressing a hand to the shallow gash. Blood seeped between her fingers.
"I'm fine," she muttered, turning away.
But Kael was already beside her.
"No, you're not."
He didn't shout, didn't scold. But his voice carried the edge of fear, like something inside him cracked at the sight of her bleeding.
He lifted her hand gently. "Let me see."
"I said I'm—"
"Selene."
Just her name. Said like a command, and a plea. And she went still. Kael guided her out of the training circle and into the healer's cabin.
The room was dim, quiet, and filled with the scent of herbs and fresh linen.
"Sit."
She hesitated.
Then sat.
Kael washed her wound with a cloth, careful and slow. His touch was firm but gentle, calloused hands moving over her skin like he was trying not to shatter something delicate.
Selene tried not to stare at his face; how close it was, how intense his eyes were when he focused.
"I've had worse," she murmured, trying to lighten the moment.
He glanced up. "Doesn't mean you should keep collecting them."
That shouldn't have made her heart flutter.
But it did.
She looked away, breath catching as his fingers brushed her bare shoulder.
"You should have blocked that."
"I was distracted."
He didn't ask why. Maybe he already knew.
She watched him tie the bandage, his fingers brushing her skin again and again. Every graze left heat behind, like a brand.
"Why do you care so much?" she whispered, before she could stop herself.
Kael looked up.
For once, he didn't mask his expression. No wall. No steel. Just raw, open emotion.
"Because you're mine."
The words hung in the air; hot, heavy, irreversible.
Selene's heart stuttered.
"Kael…"
"I know what you're thinking. That I shouldn't trust you. That this bond is a trick."
"It might be," she said quietly.
"I don't care."
His voice was hoarse now. "You think I don't feel the danger? That I don't see the way you flinch when someone talks about the war? I know there's more. But damn it, Selene, every time you walk into a room, my heart knows you."
She couldn't breathe.
"You're not a weapon to me. You're not a spy. You're not even a threat."
He reached up, cupping her cheek.
"You're the only thing that feels right."
Her body betrayed her. Leaned into his touch. Her throat ached with everything she couldn't say.
He leaned forward, just a breath away now. His forehead pressed gently to hers. And she let it happen.
Not a kiss. Not yet.
Just touch. Just warmth. Just silence between two people too broken to fall fast, too drawn to resist.
She closed her eyes.
And for one stolen moment… she let herself be his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That night, Selene stood on her balcony, staring into the forest. The bandage itched, her shoulder throbbed… but nothing hurt more than the truth clawing its way through her chest.
She had come here to kill him. And now, he was the only one who touched her like she mattered.
The only one who saw her.
And the more he touched her with kindness…
The more she feared she would never be able to leave.