Elowen POV
Lyra doesn't wake screaming.
That's what frightens me most.
She lies still beside the dying fire, lashes resting too neatly against her cheeks, breath shallow but steady. No fever. No visible wounds. Just… wrong. Like something essential has been removed and replaced with a hollow echo.
I brush her hair back with shaking fingers.
"Lyra," I whisper. "Please."
Nothing.
The silence presses in until it feels hard to breathe.
Kael stands several paces away, rigid as a statue carved from shadow and flame. He hasn't moved since the cult vanished. The fire around him is quieter now—but not calmer. It coils under his skin like a restrained beast, angry and ashamed.
I don't look at him.
If I do, I might break.
"She trusted me," I say softly, more to myself than him. "I let them use her."
"You didn't know," Kael replies.
I shake my head. "I should have."
My chest tightens painfully.
"I wanted a friend," I whisper. "Just one. Someone who didn't see me as power or threat or yours."
The word hangs between us.
I hear Kael inhale sharply—but he doesn't interrupt.
"She laughed with me," I continue, tears burning hot behind my eyes. "She shared bread. Stories. And all that time…" My voice fractures. "She was bait."
"You were the target," Kael says.
"That doesn't make it better."
I finally look at him then.
His eyes are dark, rimmed with something dangerously close to desperation.
"I warned you," he says quietly. "They would take what you love."
I laugh bitterly. "You say that like it's proof you're right."
He flinches.
"It's proof they're cruel," he answers.
"And you?" I ask. "What are you proof of?"
The question cuts deeper than I intended.
Silence stretches. Heavy. Loaded.
Lyra stirs faintly, a soft sound escaping her throat. I lunge toward her, heart leaping painfully—but her eyes remain closed.
"She's alive," Kael says. "But touched."
"Touched how?"
His jaw tightens. "Bound. Marked. They didn't just hurt her—they changed her."
My stomach drops.
"She'll never be free of them," I whisper.
"No," he agrees.
The word feels like a death sentence.
Kael POV
I deserve her anger.
That truth settles cold and heavy in my chest.
I replay the moment again and again—the surge of flame, the way the cult's magic shattered beneath my fury, the look on Elowen's face when she realized I hadn't hesitated.
I tell myself I had no choice.
But the truth is uglier.
I wanted to burn them.
I wanted them to suffer for touching what I consider mine.
And that is exactly what they wanted her to see.
Elowen kneels beside Lyra, shoulders hunched protectively, body curled inward like she's bracing for impact. She hasn't looked at me since that one sharp question.
What are you proof of?
I don't know how to answer that.
A protector?
A monster?
A man who cannot love without destroying?
"Elowen," I say carefully.
She stiffens—but doesn't turn.
"I can take her somewhere safe," I offer. "There are healers who—"
"No," she says immediately.
The finality in her voice chills me.
"You don't get to decide that," she adds. "Not anymore."
Something inside me fractures.
"I'm trying to help."
"I know," she says, voice hoarse. "That's what scares me."
I step back.
Because if I step closer, I might touch her—and if I touch her, I won't stop.
And if I don't stop, I will become exactly what she's running from.
Elowen POV
When Lyra wakes, it's at dawn.
Her eyes open slowly, unfocused, pupils dilated like she's staring at something far beyond the sky.
"Lyra?" I whisper.
She turns her head toward me with mechanical slowness.
"Hello, Elowen," she says calmly.
My heart lurches.
"That's… not how you sound," I murmur.
She smiles.
It doesn't reach her eyes.
"They told me you'd be kind," she continues. "They said you'd feel guilty."
My blood runs cold.
"Who told you that?"
Lyra's gaze flicks briefly to Kael—then back to me.
"They want you to come," she says. "Not today. Not tomorrow. But eventually."
Tears spill down my cheeks.
"They hurt you," I whisper. "I'm so sorry."
Her smile wavers—just barely.
"I volunteered," she says.
The words hit like a blow.
"You—what?"
"They promised me purpose," she replies. "And they promised me protection—from him."
She nods faintly toward Kael.
Rage flares hot and sudden.
"He would never hurt you!"
Lyra tilts her head. "He would burn the world for you."
I don't answer.
Because she isn't wrong.
"They didn't lie," Lyra continues gently. "They just told the truth from a different angle."
My chest caves inward.
"I won't go," I whisper.
Lyra's eyes soften, just a fraction.
"You will," she says. "Because you don't want anyone else to suffer for you."
She reaches out and grips my wrist—harder than she should be able to.
"And next time," she adds quietly, "they won't ask."
Kael POV
That's when I understand.
This was never about forcing her hand immediately.
This was about poisoning the ground beneath her feet.
I move toward Lyra, fire bristling dangerously beneath my skin.
"Release her," I command.
Lyra looks at me—and smiles.
"You can't kill me," she says softly. "Not without killing her trust in you."
Elowen pulls her hand free and stands abruptly.
"Stop," she says.
I freeze.
Her gaze meets mine—steady, wounded, resolute.
"I need time," she says. "Away from you. Away from all of this."
The words strike like a blade between my ribs.
"If you leave," I say carefully, "they will hunt you."
"They already are," she replies.
I want to tell her I'll follow.
That I'll watch from the shadows.
That I'll burn anyone who breathes wrong near her.
But I see it then—how that promise would sound to her now.
Like a threat.
So I nod once.
"Go," I say.
It might be the hardest word I've ever spoken.
She hesitates—just for a heartbeat.
Then she turns away.
And the fire inside me screams.