They brought her to a high balcony overlooking the inner training grounds.
Below, warriors—human and otherwise—moved through brutal drills beneath the open sky. Steel rang against steel. Fire scorched the air. A dragon circled far above, its shadow sliding across the stone like a living omen.
Kael stood at the railing, hands clasped behind his back.
He did not look at her when she approached.
"You are calmer today," he said.
"I didn't know I was required to perform," Elowen replied.
His mouth curved faintly. "Everything performs here."
She joined him at the railing, careful to keep a measured distance. Below, a trainee missed a step. Kael did not speak—he merely tilted his head.
The trainee collapsed, choking, as if the air itself had turned against him.
Elowen stiffened. "Was that necessary?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Kael turned then, golden eyes sharp. "Because weakness spreads."
The warmth inside her reacted violently—pressure slamming outward before she could stop it. The air rippled. The choking stopped. The trainee collapsed, gasping, alive.
Silence fell.
Kael stared at her.
"So," he said softly, "you intervene on instinct."
"I didn't mean to," Elowen said.
"I know," Kael replied. And this time, there was satisfaction in his voice.
Below them, the dragon changed course—angling closer to the balcony.
Kael stepped subtly in front of her.
The gesture was possessive.
Protective.
And unmistakably deliberate.