Page 14

FOURTEEN

KAEL

K ael hadn’t meant to kiss her.

Gods, that was the truth of it, and it burned like a blade buried beneath his ribs. It had been instinct. Reaction. Need clawing its way up from his bones, from the place inside him he kept buried beneath politics and prophecy and duty.

But now… now it was silence that echoed louder than anything.

He’d left her room before he could say something worse. Before he could kiss her again and lose what little control he had left.

But walking away didn’t stop the ache.

It followed him.

Clung to his skin like her breath still lingered on his lips.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, pacing the length of the war room. Shadows flickered from the low-burning sconces, catching on the gleam of maps and ancient banners.

He’d barely slept. His blood still pulsed with the echo of that moment—her mouth under his, her hands tangled in his tunic, the sound she’d made when she kissed him back.

It hadn’t been one-sided.

She’d wanted it too. That was the worst damn part. Because it meant something . And Kael had no room in his world for that kind of meaning.

The door slammed open behind him, wind following in its wake.

Ruarc strode in like a storm given shape, his long black cloak trailing ash and snow. His golden eyes landed on Kael like hammers, heavy with the weight of expectation.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Ruarc said without preamble.

Kael didn’t bother denying it. “You’ve been busy playing king.”

“I am king,” Ruarc snapped. “And you’re the heir—bonded, branded, and now part of something the court won’t let us ignore any longer.”

Kael’s spine stiffened. “They already tried to kill her.”

“And they’ll try again,” Ruarc said flatly. “That’s why we’re solidifying the bond. Publicly. A week from now, the ceremony takes place in front of the Houses.”

Kael’s breath left in a rush.

“No.”

Ruarc raised a brow. “No?”

“You’re forcing something that shouldn’t be forced.”

Ruarc stepped closer, his voice like tempered steel. “You don’t get to decide that anymore. The Mark has already spoken. The prophecy is in motion . Whether you like it or not, the girl is your mate in the eyes of every old-blood in the Veil. If we don’t show unity, strength?—”

“They’ll rip her apart.”

Ruarc didn’t flinch. “And you with her.”

Kael’s fists clenched at his sides. The bond flared low and hot beneath his skin. Even now, it hummed with Selene’s presence, distant but unmistakable.

He wanted to see her again. Gods help him, he needed to.

To touch her.

To prove that the kiss hadn’t just been weakness.

But it had. Hadn’t it?

“What happens if she refuses?” Kael asked quietly.

“She won’t,” Ruarc said. “Because she knows the alternative.”

Kael turned away, jaw tight.

There was no victory here. No peace.

Just the path laid out for him, marked in blood and ancient vows.

“I’ll prepare,” he said at last, voice dull.

Ruarc gave a sharp nod. “Don’t make me clean up your hesitations, Kael. You’ve done enough damage with your silence.”

Then he left.

Kael stood there long after the door shut, the words echoing.

Later, Kael found himself in the lower courtyard, pacing the snow-dusted stones beneath the darkening sky. The torches had just been lit, casting long golden fingers across the walls. His breath fogged in the cold.

He wasn’t thinking of strategy.

He wasn’t thinking of Ruarc or the prophecy.

He was thinking of her.

The way Selene had looked at him before the kiss—equal parts challenge and ache. The way her lips had parted with a sharp, quiet gasp. The heat of her hands in his shirt, tugging him closer like she needed him.

Like she chose him.

He’d spent so long believing he was cursed to carry this weight alone. That he’d lost the only softness he’d ever been allowed. That everything after Elara would be duty and sacrifice.

But Selene wasn’t Elara.

Selene was fire.

Selene fought him tooth and nail and still kissed him like she could feel the world cracking too.

And that was the problem.

He didn’t know how to want someone who could hurt him that deeply again.

He didn’t know how to survive it.

The snow fell slower now, soft flakes clinging to his shoulders. Somewhere above, the moons were rising. And Kael stood still, staring at the citadel windows, knowing exactly which one was hers.

And wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with everything burning inside him.