The days after the Shadelands' visit passed like threads of smoke—beautiful, curling, and hard to grasp.
But beneath the palace's golden light, shadows twisted deeper.
And fire waited.
---
Elara walked slowly through the inner solarium, its glass ceiling arched high above and framed in silver vines. The air smelled of sun-fruit and lavender. This was meant to be a sanctuary. A place where the Crown Princess could rest, breathe, and prepare for motherhood.
Today, a new lady-in-waiting, gifted by the "gracious" Lord Varyx, accompanied her. A soft-voiced woman named Myla, who spoke little, bowed often, and always kept her face half-hidden beneath a gold veil.
Elara felt uneasy.
The woman's footsteps were too quiet. Her smile never reached her eyes.
Still, she stayed polite.
Until the flames began.
---
It started with a whisper.
A faint hiss. Then heat—rising from the floor like a curse.
Before Elara could react, fire erupted around her—a circle of flame conjured from the enchanted braziers and cast like a noose. The flames danced higher, licking at her skirts.
She gasped, stumbling back.
Myla stood outside the ring of fire, her veil burned away, revealing cold, inhuman eyes glowing violet.
"Your child is a threat," she whispered. "We remove threats."
Elara clutched her belly, heart pounding.
"Guards!" she screamed. "Someone—"
But before the fire could consume her—
A blur of black and steel leapt through the flame.
Kael.
He dove into the fire like it was air.
The flames licked his cloak, scorched his arm. But he didn't hesitate—he scooped Elara into his arms with brute strength, shielding her with his own body. His skin blistered. His jaw clenched.
Pain meant nothing.
Only her.
He turned, surged through the fire again—taking the brunt of it as they fell into the marble hallway outside the inferno.
Elara coughed, clutching him. "You're burning—!"
"Silence," he gasped. "You're alive. That's what matters."
Blood dripped from his hand. Burns seared up his shoulder.
Then came the thunder of boots.
Auren.
His eyes locked on Kael first—then Elara—then the fire. And rage unlike any seen on the sun prince's face exploded.
He ran to Elara, falling to his knees. "Are you hurt? Elara—gods, speak to me—"
"I'm fine. The baby's fine. Kael—he—"
Auren turned toward his brother, who still crouched nearby, gripping his burned side.
For a heartbeat, the prince and the general stared at each other.
Then Auren nodded once. A silent thank you… or a silent warning.
"I've got her," Auren said tightly. He lifted Elara into his arms, holding her like she was made of glass and gold.
"I'll burn the world before I lose you," he whispered into her hair.
Elara looked back over his shoulder—at Kael, who sat on the floor, bleeding, burning…
And still watching her like she was the last star in his night.
---
That Night
Kael refused healing.
He sat in his chambers, bandaging his own wounds, ignoring the medics knocking at his door. His hand trembled as he tightened the wrap on his forearm.
He had held her.
He had felt the pulse of her child against his ribs.
And still… it wasn't his place.
He hated the softness it stirred in him.
He hated how much he would suffer again if it meant her safety.
But most of all—
He hated that Auren got to keep her.
---
Meanwhile, Elara lay in bed, wrapped in Auren's arms. His hand never left her stomach. His other never left the hilt of his blade.
"From now on," he whispered, "no one but the guards I trust will be near you. No more courtly bonds. No more gifts. You are mine. Our child is mine. And I will destroy anything that touches you again."
Elara nodded, but her thoughts drifted…
To the man who took the fire for her.
The man whose jaw clenched not with anger—
But pain.
---