Elowen POV
Kael kneels in front of me like he's afraid of startling something wild.
Like me.
His hands hover inches from my knees—close enough that I feel the heat rolling off him, close enough that my body leans forward instinctively before my mind can stop it.
I hate how easily I react to him.
Hate how my power quiets the moment he's near, how the frantic ache inside me twists into something lower, heavier, aching in a different way entirely.
"You're burning," he says softly.
I swallow. "You came anyway."
His jaw tightens. "You didn't give me a choice."
"I did," I whisper. "You just don't like it when I make them."
His eyes lift to mine.
Gold flares—not with anger, but something darker. Possessive. Controlled.
"I don't like it," he agrees. "That doesn't mean I'll take it from you."
The words should reassure me.
Instead, they undo me.
My body trembles, heat coiling tighter under my skin. Every nerve feels exposed, aware of him—his breath, his presence, the way he's holding himself back like restraint is a blade pressed to his own throat.
"Kael," I breathe, barely louder than a thought.
He doesn't touch me.
Not yet.
"Tell me what you need," he says.
The honesty of the question scares me more than his dominance ever did.
"I need—" My voice cracks. "I need to stop hurting."
His thumb lifts, stopping just short of my knee. "And if stopping means you bind yourself to me?"
My heart stutters.
The truth claws its way out anyway.
"Then I'm afraid I already have."
The air snaps.
His control fractures—not fully, but enough that I feel it ripple through him like a suppressed growl. His hand finally settles on my leg, warm and steady, grounding me instantly.
My breath shudders.
He leans in, forehead pressing briefly to mine, the contact intimate enough to make my vision blur.
"You don't know what you're offering," he murmurs.
"I know exactly what I'm risking," I whisper back.
Kael POV
She's shaking.
Not with fear—no, that's worse.
With want.
With trust she doesn't realize she's giving me, wrapped tight around vulnerability sharp enough to draw blood.
If I take one wrong step, I ruin her.
If I take none, I lose her anyway.
My hand slides higher, slow, deliberate, giving her every chance to pull away. She doesn't. Instead, she leans into the touch, breath hitching as her power responds—fire licking faintly along her skin, warm and reactive.
Gods.
"She's opening," Lyra says quietly behind us.
I snarl without looking at her. "Then stop watching."
Too late.
The shadows at the edge of the clearing shift.
Wrong.
Not mine.
I feel it an instant before the sigils ignite—cold, invasive magic snapping shut like a trap.
"Elowen," I growl.
She gasps as the fire around her flickers violently, her body arching as something pulls at her power.
Her scream tears out of her as chains of light slam into the ground around us.
Cult magic.
They were waiting for this moment.
For me.
Elowen POV
Pain explodes through me.
Not physical—deeper. Like hands ripping at something inside my chest, dragging my power forward whether I want it or not.
I scream Kael's name.
He's on his feet instantly, shadows roaring outward, but the sigils flare brighter, feeding on my distress.
A voice echoes through the clearing.
"Choose," it says.
I turn, vision blurred with tears and fire.
A robed figure steps forward, face hidden.
"Stay with the demon king," the voice continues calmly, "and we take the girl."
My heart stops.
Lyra.
They seize her from the shadows, a blade pressing to her throat. Her eyes widen—not in fear for herself, but for me.
"Run," she mouths.
My body shakes violently.
"And if you leave him," the cultist says, "we let her live."
Kael's roar shakes the earth.
"Touch her and I burn your world to ash."
The cultist laughs. "You already will."
I look at Kael.
At the fury barely restrained in his face.
At the bond screaming between us, begging me to stay, to choose him, to let him protect me.
And I realize the truth with sickening clarity.
Being with him doesn't just endanger me.
It endangers everyone I love.
My chest caves in.
"I can't," I whisper.
His eyes snap to mine.
"Elowen—"
"I can't let them die for me," I choke. "Not because of what I feel for you."
Pain—real pain—flashes across his face.
But he doesn't beg.
Doesn't command.
He steps back.
"If you leave," he says hoarsely, "they won't stop hunting you."
"I know," I whisper.
My power recoils, shriveling as I force distance between us.
"I still have to go."
The cultist smiles.
Lyra screams my name as the shadows pull me away—
And the last thing I see is Kael standing in the fire, utterly still, watching me choose against my own heart.