Page 13

THIRTEEN

SELENE

S elene sat propped against the pillows Kael had personally ordered for her—soft furs layered over thicker woven linen, nothing like the stiff ceremonial bedding from the guest quarters.

The chamber still felt foreign despite the firelight dancing across the walls.

Too large. Too quiet. Every time she shifted, a soft ache flared beneath her ribs.

The healer had told her she was lucky.

Selene didn’t feel lucky.

She felt like she’d swallowed lightning and it hadn’t finished burning through her.

There was a guard at her door. One of Kael’s hand-picked men. She recognized him from the training yard—silent, sharp-eyed, loyal to a fault. She wasn’t sure if he was there to protect her or to make sure she didn’t disappear again.

Maybe both.

The knock came just after sundown.

Not loud. Not soft.

Kael.

She straightened slightly, wincing at the pull in her side.

The door opened without waiting for permission.

Of course it did.

Kael stepped inside, and for the first time since the attack, she saw him properly.

His cloak was damp from snow, ash-blond hair tousled like he’d raked his hands through it too many times. His eyes—those freezing blue eyes—were rimmed with sleepless red. There was tension wound through every inch of him, like a wire pulled too tight for too long.

“You’re late,” she said softly.

“I was dealing with the prisoner,” he replied. His voice was low. Guttural.

Her heart thudded once. “And?”

He shook his head.

Selene’s stomach twisted.

“He’s dead,” Kael said. “Found him in his cell. No weapon. No poison. He was stripped, locked behind iron and spellwoven stone. No one entered. No one saw anything.”

She swallowed hard. “So someone killed him without a trace?”

“It might have been a spell already on him. It’s hard to say. Except that they made sure we wouldn’t get answers.”

Silence stretched between them.

Kael crossed the room slowly, like she might break again if he moved too fast. He didn’t sit. Just stood a few feet away, hands clenched at his sides.

Selene forced her voice steady. “Do you think it was someone in the court?”

“I know it was,” he said. “But proving it will be a war of whispers.”

Her fingers curled in the blanket. “And I’m the first casualty.”

Kael flinched.

She didn’t mean it as an accusation. But it landed like one anyway.

He exhaled, running a hand down his face. “I failed you.”

She blinked.

“What?”

“I promised you’d be safe,” he said, barely above a whisper. “And I couldn’t even keep a blade from finding you in my own damn court.”

Selene stared at him, heart stuttering.

“You didn’t fail me,” she said.

The words hung between them, fragile as frost.

Kael looked at her then— really looked. Not as the court’s pawn or the girl who’d stepped through the Veil uninvited, but as something far more dangerous. Something he couldn’t shove into the neat corners of duty or prophecy.

Like he didn’t believe her. Like he wanted to—but couldn’t afford to.

Selene’s chest tightened.

“Kael…” Her voice faltered.

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t know how.

There was too much between them—unspoken, unclaimed, unfinished. Weeks of bitter glances, barbed words, unshed truths. Nights of aching silence where the bond between them whispered things neither dared speak aloud.

And something cracked.

Something old and stubborn and suffocating split wide open.

Kael moved.

One breath, she was speaking. The next, he was there—at the edge of her bed, towering, braced on either side of her body. Not touching. But close enough that the heat of him poured into her like firelight after a long frost.

Her breath caught.

His head dipped, gold-ringed eyes locking onto hers with a hunger he’d never let show until now. A storm kept caged too long.

“Don’t say I didn’t,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t pretend like I’ve done right by you.”

Her gaze didn’t flinch. “Then stop pretending like you don’t care.”

The words came sharp, uninvited.

She wasn’t even sure why she said them so challengingly—maybe it was Nyra’s story echoing in her ears.

Maybe it was the way her body still ached not from the blade but from his absence.

Maybe it was her own damn need —a yearning that had been clawing at her since the moment he touched her after the ceremony.

Or maybe she was done letting him carry the weight of their bond like it was some kind of curse.

Maybe she wanted him to feel it like she did.

The air grew heavy, thick with tension, heat, something wild and real and wrong in all the right ways.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

But she saw it, felt it—in the way his eyes dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. In the way his fingers flexed against the mattress as if he was fighting himself. As if he was going to say something?—

And then he didn’t.

Because he kissed her.

No warning. No softness.

Just fire.

It was heat and hunger and fury all tangled together, lips crashing against hers like he was trying to swallow the silence between them. His mouth was rough, desperate, tasting of regret and fire. Her hands found the front of his shirt before she realized she’d moved. Clutched him like an anchor.

And for a heartbeat, she kissed him back.

Hard.

Fierce.

The bond flared between them like wildfire.

She felt the thrum of his pulse under her fingers. Felt the quake of his chest when she gasped into his mouth. She could feel how much he hated this— wanted this—needed it like a man drowning.

And then, just as fast, he pulled back.

Like he’d been burned.

They both stared at each other, breath ragged.

Her fingers were still twisted in his tunic.

His hand hovered near her cheek, trembling.

Kael stepped back. One slow, painful retreat.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice wrecked.

Selene didn’t say anything.

Couldn’t.

Because if she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure what would come out.

Kael turned and walked out without another word.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And Selene, still shaking, pressed her fingers to her lips.

She could still feel the kiss like it was burned into her skin.

She didn’t know if she was more furious at him for walking away…

Or at herself for wanting him to stay.