POV: Lyra
It had been three days since Kairo touched me.
Three days since the fire inside me had consumed everything in its path, and I watched him retreat into silence again. He hadn't come near me. No training. No commands. No long stares across the courtyard. He vanished like a ghost, leaving the walls colder and my thoughts louder.
I hated how I missed him.
Hated the way my chest tightened at night, how my fingers twitched for his voice, how I searched for him with my eyes even when I pretended not to care. I told myself I was fine. That I didn't need him to stand beside me for me to stand tall. But my body knew better.
He had become a gravity I couldn't escape.
And right now, I was floating in his absence.
I sat by the window of the East Wing, watching the mist creep over the woods that bordered the estate. The forest looked different since I had fought there. Since I had burned something ancient into the ground. Since I had remembered.
My memory still haunted me.
A woman's scream.
My own.
And those red eyes watching.
I pressed my hand to my chest as if I could quiet the ache. Something was waking inside me. Something old. Something that had nothing to do with Kairo and everything to do with the fire in my blood. But I still wanted him to look at me. To say something. To show me I wasn't going through this alone.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of boots outside my door.
I didn't dare turn.
But then his scent filled the room — dark spice and storm-soaked earth — and I knew.
"Kairo," I said quietly.
He didn't answer right away. Just stepped in, shutting the door behind him. The silence between us stretched, full of unsaid things.
"I was starting to think you were avoiding me," I said, my voice lighter than I felt.
"I was," he replied.
I turned, startled by his honesty.
"I had to. After what happened in the forest... I wasn't sure if I could be around you without losing control."
My pulse jumped. "You mean the power?"
"I mean everything."
He stepped forward, slowly, like he was afraid I'd vanish. I stood too, unsure whether to run to him or run from him. But I didn't move.
"I've been thinking about the fire," I said, keeping my voice steady. "The memory that came back. It wasn't just an image, Kairo. It was a warning."
He nodded. "You saw the eyes?"
"Yes. Red. Watching me. Waiting."
He exhaled sharply, jaw tense. "The Emberbloods marked you long before you were brought here. You weren't just a prophecy to them. You were a target. You still are."
"And you think I'm not ready to face them."
"No," he said, stepping closer. "I think you're becoming someone who doesn't need protection. And that terrifies me."
"Why?"
He looked at me, really looked at me, and I could see it all — the fear, the longing, the hunger, the war.
"Because I don't know if I'll be able to hold back much longer," he said, voice low.
My breath caught.
He raised his hand slowly, fingers brushing the side of my face.
"Lyra," he whispered, "you have no idea what you do to me. What you've always done."
My hands curled into his shirt without thinking. "Then stop holding back."
He hesitated. His forehead touched mine. The space between us disappeared.
But just before his lips touched mine, the door burst open.
Vren stood there, panting.
"The Emberbloods," he said. "They breached the west gate."
Kairo didn't move at first. His jaw clenched.
"Are you serious?" he growled.
"They're not attacking directly," Vren said. "They left something."
Kairo turned to me, eyes dark. "Stay here."
"No," I said, lifting my chin. "We face this together. Remember?"
His expression flickered, caught between protest and pride. Then he nodded once.
We followed Vren to the courtyard. The night air was heavy, thick with magic. At the gate, a message had been burned into the stone — not with words, but with flame sigils. They pulsed with power I didn't understand… but felt in my bones.
"What does it say?" I asked.
Kairo stared at it, eyes hard. "It's a challenge. They want us to send you to them before the moon rises again."
"And if we don't?"
"They'll bring the war to us."
I stepped forward, toward the pulsing sigils. A strange pull started in my chest, like something ancient inside me was waking again. My hand moved before I could stop it, drawn to the heat.
But Kairo caught me.
"Don't," he said, voice fierce.
"I felt it," I whispered. "It called to me."
"And that's exactly why I can't let you touch it."
We stared at each other, the tension like a live wire between us.
"I'm not afraid," I said.
He leaned in closer, voice barely above a whisper.
"Then let me be afraid for you."
And for the first time in days, I believed him.
He wasn't avoiding me because I was dangerous.
He was avoiding me because he was falling too fast to stop.
And he didn't want to drag me down with him.
But it was too late for both of us.
Because we were already burning.