Elowen learned quickly that silence did not protect her.
It only made Kael more attentive.
The training chamber was colder today. The air pressed down on her shoulders like unseen hands, and the band on her wrist had not warmed since she entered—an absence that felt deliberate.
Kael stood behind her.
Not close enough to touch.
Close enough that she could feel him.
"You are tense," he said.
She did not answer.
Her jaw locked, gaze fixed forward on the etched stone wall. She refused to turn. Refused to acknowledge how every instinct in her body tracked his position.
"Look at me."
The command struck sharper than any raised voice.
Elowen stayed still.
The silence stretched.
Then Kael moved.
He stepped into her space without warning, his presence slamming into her like heat. One hand came down on the stone beside her head, caging her in. The other closed around her wrist—right over the band.
She sucked in a breath despite herself.
"I said," Kael murmured near her ear, "look at me."
Her defiance cracked—just enough.
She turned her head.
His eyes were dark, unreadable, fixed not on her face but on the way her pulse jumped beneath her skin.
"Good," he said quietly. "You hear me."
"I hear you whether I want to or not," she said, voice tight.
His grip tightened.
The band flared warm, reacting instantly.
Elowen's breath stuttered.
Kael felt it. She knew he did—saw it in the way his fingers flexed, the way his gaze sharpened.
"You resist," he said calmly, "and your body betrays you."
"I don't belong to you," she snapped.
The words were a mistake.
Kael leaned in, his mouth close enough that she felt his breath along her jaw.
"You are alive," he said softly, "because you belong to me."
The statement wasn't loud. It wasn't angry.
It was final.
Her fear spiked—and with it, the heat in her chest surged, pressing hard against the restraint. The band burned cold, snapping the power inward before it could escape.
Elowen gasped.
Kael did not release her.
"This is training," he said. "You will learn what provokes it."
She trembled. "You provoke it."
"Yes," he agreed. "Which is why you will learn to endure me."
Her nails dug into the stone. "You enjoy this."
Kael paused.
Then, almost thoughtfully, he said, "Enjoyment is irrelevant."
His hand slid from her wrist to her waist—not possessive, not gentle, just there, anchoring her in place. Her entire body reacted, heat flaring sharp and sudden.
She hated it.
She hated that he felt it.
"You see," Kael continued, voice low, controlled, "how easily it responds. This is why I do not allow distance."
She swallowed hard. "You're afraid I'll lose control."
"No," Kael said. "I am afraid someone else will take advantage of it."
His hand tightened at her waist—just enough to remind her she could not pull away.
"You are mine to protect," he said. "And protection requires obedience."
Her breath shook. "And if I refuse?"
Kael straightened slowly, releasing her at last.
"Then I restrain you," he said. "Harder."
He stepped back, eyes never leaving her.
"Again," he ordered.
Elowen closed her eyes, chest tight, knowing one thing with absolute clarity:
This wasn't about teaching her power.
It was about teaching her who controlled it.
And her body already knew the answer.