Elowen POV
The worst part isn't the danger.
It's the quiet moments—when nothing is happening and my body still aches like it's waiting for something it knows won't come.
I wake before dawn, breath caught halfway in my chest, heart racing for no reason I can explain. The fire beside me is low and obedient, a dull orange glow instead of the roaring presence it once was.
Once, I would have felt him then.
That invisible pressure.
That certainty.
Now there's only absence.
I press my hand to my sternum, fingers digging in as if I can hold myself together that way. My chest feels hollow, scraped raw from the inside.
You chose this, I remind myself.
But choosing freedom doesn't stop grief from following.
I sit up slowly. Lyra is already awake, staring into the treeline like she's listening to a voice I can't hear.
"You didn't sleep," I say.
She blinks. "Neither did you."
I wrap my arms around myself. The morning air bites cold against my skin, and for a moment I ache for warmth that has nothing to do with fire.
I ache for him.
The thought comes unbidden—and with it, guilt.
"I shouldn't miss him," I whisper.
Lyra tilts her head. "Why not?"
"Because he frightens me."
"And?"
"And because when I'm near him," I continue, voice trembling, "I forget how to breathe without permission."
Lyra studies me carefully.
"But when you're away from him," she says, "you forget how to rest."
The truth of it hits so hard my eyes sting.
I look away quickly, ashamed.
"He doesn't know how close he is to breaking me," I murmur. "Or maybe he does—and that's worse."
Lyra's voice softens. "He knows."
I swallow. "Then why does he keep holding back?"
She doesn't answer.
Which is answer enough.
Kael POV
I haven't slept.
Sleep invites memory, and memory invites weakness.
Instead, I pace the battlements as dawn bleeds gray across the horizon. The fire inside me coils tight and restless, reacting to something it shouldn't be able to feel from this distance.
Her.
The bond pulls—not loudly, not violently—but persistently, like a bruise pressed again and again.
She's awake.
Unsettled.
I close my eyes and force myself to breathe through it.
This is restraint, I remind myself.
This is love that does not devour.
But the distinction feels thinner every hour.
A lesser man would already be on the road.
A crueler one would drag her back.
I am trapped somewhere in between, and it is tearing me apart.
"She's safer without you," I whisper to the wind.
The lie tastes bitter.
I see her in my mind too clearly—her defiant tilt of chin, the way her power curls shyly around her wrists when she's nervous, the heat that blooms between us when neither of us dares to move.
I never touched her.
Not the way I wanted to.
Not the way she deserved.
My hands curl slowly into fists.
Because if I had, I don't know if I would have stopped.
Elowen POV
Later, when we reach the crossroads, I freeze.
The air changes.
Not violently—just enough to make the fire inside me tense, alert.
Someone has been here.
Not soldiers.
Observers.
"They're close," I whisper.
Lyra nods calmly. "They want you unsettled."
My pulse spikes. "Why?"
"Because fear erodes judgment," she replies. "And longing erodes resolve."
My breath stutters.
"That's cruel."
"Yes," Lyra agrees. "They learned from watching him."
Anger flares hot and sharp.
"Don't talk about him like that."
She glances at me. "You're already defending him."
I open my mouth to argue—and falter.
Because she's right.
I rub at my wrist, suddenly cold. "I don't want to hate him."
Lyra's gaze softens in something like pity.
"Hate would be easier," she says. "They want you torn."
Between fear and desire.
Between safety and choice.
Between the man who would burn the world for me—and the woman I'm trying to become.
I close my eyes.
And in that darkness, I feel him.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
A distant, restrained presence—tight with control, heavy with unsaid things.
My breath catches painfully.
Kael, I think, not knowing if he can hear me.
My fire flares in answer.
Kael POV
It hits me like a blade between the ribs.
Her awareness.
Sharp. Sudden. Aching.
I stagger, gripping the stone parapet as the bond hums violently beneath my skin. My fire surges, furious and desperate, before I force it down with a snarl.
"She reached for you," my inner voice whispers.
Not consciously.
Instinctively.
Because some bonds don't weaken with distance.
They starve.
And starved things become dangerous.
I press my forehead to the cold stone.
"Don't," I whisper—to her, to myself, to the part of me that wants to go to her and never let her walk away again.
If I go now…
I won't be able to leave.
And if I stay away much longer…
I don't know who I'll become.
Elowen POV
That night, as I lie awake beneath unfamiliar stars, the truth settles heavy and undeniable in my chest.
I didn't leave because I stopped wanting him.
I left because wanting him scared me more than losing him.
Tears slip silently into my hair.
"I don't know how to choose," I whisper to the dark.
The fire flickers gently, warm and steady.
Waiting.
Not pushing.
Not demanding.
For the first time, I understand what Kael has been trying to do all along.
And it breaks my heart.