Kael's fingers tightened around Liora's wrist with such force that her skin flushed beneath his touch. His eyes—storm-dark, vulnerable, and fierce—locked onto hers as if anchoring them both against the rising tide of chaos.
"Stay with me," he growled, voice low and rough with emotion. "Whatever happens next… you are not to leave my side."
Liora's breath caught. Her pulse roared louder than the alarms outside.
He… wants me here.
For a split second, the world seemed to still. Her own instincts screamed to run, to flee from this dangerous bond—but another, deeper part of her longed to stay. To stand with him—not as a pawn, not as a stranger—but as someone who belonged.
Her lips parted. "I will," she whispered, steady despite the storm within her.
...
Kael's eyes softened… only for a moment.
The softness vanished as duty reclaimed him.
With a nod to the guards, he barked, "Seal the pavilion entrances. No one is to leave."
The guards scrambled to obey, but their eyes flicked between the prince and Liora with silent questions—who was she to him? Why did his eyes burn with such desperate intensity?
Kael ignored them.
He turned back to Liora, his face hardened once more, but his fingers lingered at her wrist before releasing it—as though letting go would break something inside him.
"Whatever threat comes next," he said, quieter now, almost pleading, "trust me."
...
The words pierced her.
Trust you…
Can I?
Do I want to?
The questions surged inside her like a tide, but before she could answer, a servant stumbled into the pavilion, his face drained of color.
"My lord… the royal chambers…" he choked. "The chamber guards… all slain… the queen… missing…"
The words landed like a hammer blow.
Kael's eyes flared in fury, but when they swept back to Liora, something darker stirred beneath the surface—fear, grief, and… helplessness.
For the first time, his composure cracked.
...
He took a step toward her, his face inches from hers.
"Do you see?" he growled. "They will tear this kingdom apart."
His breath brushed her cheek. His eyes, filled with burning resolve and unspoken longing, demanded more than words.
...
Liora's chest heaved. Her hand twitched toward him, desperate to bridge the space, to offer comfort—but Kael's eyes warned her not to.
The tension between them stretched taut—two hearts aching to collide, yet bound by duty's iron chain.
...
Outside, the alarm bells rang again, louder this time, and the guards shouted orders as shadows raced through the corridors.
Kael's jaw tightened, his sword finally free from its sheath—but his eyes remained fixed on Liora, as if asking silently:
Will you stand with me… or run from what we are becoming?
...
Before Liora could answer, the pavilion doors burst open once more. A royal messenger, bloodied and barely conscious, collapsed at Kael's feet, gasping in a broken voice:"Highness… the enemy… it's inside…"
Kael's eyes snapped shut for a heartbeat—then opened with blazing determination.
He sheathed his sword, turned back to Liora, and whispered, "Then we face it together."