The wind howled through the skeletal trees, their bare branches clawing at the bruised sky. Rain lashed against the windows of the old college library, where Elara sat hunched over a stack of yellowed manuscripts. The scent of mildew and aged paper clung to the air, but she barely noticed. Her fingers trembled as she traced the faded ink of a forgotten spell, her heart pounding like a trapped bird.
*This is it.* The thought sent a shiver down her spine. The key to breaking the curse—or so she hoped.
A shadow fell across the page. She didn't need to look up to know who it was. The warmth that followed him, the subtle shift in the air—it was 𝑲𝒂𝒆𝒍.
"You're still here." His voice was low, rough with exhaustion.
Elara exhaled, her breath fogging the brittle parchment. "I have to be."
Kael dragged a chair beside her, the wood groaning under his weight. His dark eyes flickered over the text, his jaw tightening. "This isn't just research, is it? You're planning something."
She hesitated. The truth sat heavy on her tongue, but the fear of what he might do—what he might *stop* her from doing—kept her silent.
"Elara." His hand covered hers, calloused and warm. "Talk to me."
The contact sent a jolt through her, the bond between them humming like a live wire. She hated how easily he could unravel her. "I found a way to sever the tether," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But it's dangerous."
Kael's grip tightened. "How dangerous?"
"The spell requires a sacrifice." She met his gaze, the weight of her words settling between them. "A life for a life."
His expression darkened. "No."
"It's the only way to free you."
"I don't *want* to be free if it means losing you." The raw ache in his voice made her chest constrict.
Elara pulled her hand away, turning back to the manuscript. "You don't get to decide that."
A growl rumbled in his throat, the sound more beast than man. "You're not doing this."
Before she could argue, the library doors slammed open. Cold air rushed in, carrying the scent of damp earth and something darker—something *wrong*.
Kael was on his feet in an instant, his body shielding hers. A figure stood silhouetted in the doorway, their features obscured by the dim light. But Elara didn't need to see their face to know who it was.
"Lysander." The name tasted like ash.
The warlock stepped forward, his cloak pooling around him like liquid shadow. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you?" His voice was silk over steel, smooth and deadly.
Kael's fingers curled into fists. "Get out."
Lysander's lips twisted into a smirk. "Still playing the protector, Kael? How quaint." His gaze slid to Elara. "You've been digging where you shouldn't, little witch."
She stood, her legs unsteady. "I won't let you use him anymore."
Lysander laughed, the sound echoing unnaturally in the hollow space. "You think you have a choice?" He raised a hand, and the air crackled with energy.
Kael moved before she could blink, lunging at the warlock with a snarl. But Lysander was faster. A flick of his wrist sent Kael crashing into the shelves, books raining down around him.
Elara's pulse roared in her ears. She reached for the dagger hidden in her boot, but Lysander's magic wrapped around her like chains, freezing her in place.
"Such fire," he mused, stepping closer. "No wonder he's so attached." His fingers brushed her cheek, cold as death. "But attachments make us weak."
Kael staggered to his feet, his eyes blazing. "Touch her again, and I'll rip you apart."
Lysander sighed, as if bored. "You're predictable." He snapped his fingers, and the shadows surged forward, wrapping around Kael like serpents.
Elara struggled against the invisible bonds, her magic flaring uselessly. "Stop!"
Lysander ignored her, his attention fixed on Kael. "You were always meant to be a weapon, not a man. It's time you remembered that."
The shadows tightened, and Kael's agonized scream tore through the room.
Something inside Elara shattered.
Power erupted from her in a wave, shattering Lysander's hold. The warlock stumbled back, his smirk faltering. "Impossible."
She didn't think. She *acted*.
The spell spilled from her lips, the ancient words burning like fire. Light erupted from her palms, slamming into Lysander with enough force to send him crashing through the doors and into the storm beyond.
Silence.
Then Kael collapsed.
Elara rushed to his side, her hands trembling as she cradled his face. "Kael? *Kael!*"
His skin was ice-cold, his breathing shallow. The shadows had left their mark—dark veins creeping beneath his skin like poison.
"No, no, no—" She pressed her forehead to his, tears blurring her vision. "Stay with me."
His fingers twitched against hers, weak but there. "Elara…"
The library doors groaned again.
She whipped her head around, expecting Lysander. But it wasn't him.
A woman stood there, her silver hair glowing in the dim light, her eyes ancient and knowing. "You've done well, child," she said, her voice like the wind through leaves. "But he won't survive without my help."
Elara's breath caught. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled, slow and secretive. "The one who can save him." She extended a hand. "If you're willing to pay the price."
The storm raged on, but in that moment, Elara knew—there was no turning back.
She took the woman's hand.
Darkness swallowed them whole.