Page 23

We stay like that, suspended. The wind whips through the trees above us, scattering brittle leaves.

My lip quivers, a swirl of yearning gnawing at me.

I recall how easily he fended off Drayveth’s attacks, how fiercely he roared when they threatened me.

That protective edge tugs at something deep inside me.

I didn’t think I could ever trust like this again, not after the coven’s betrayal.

The tension cracks. Suddenly, his mouth is on mine—urgent, heated.

I gasp, every nerve firing. My heart lurches at the shock of contact, a delirious wave of warmth flooding my senses.

There’s desperation behind the kiss, but also gentleness.

He’s careful not to press too hard against my injured shoulder, his hand sliding around my waist, anchoring me.

Time blurs. I surrender to the surge of feeling that roars through me, tangling my fingers in his hair.

The tether pulses wildly, magical energy dancing under my skin, intensifying the taste of him on my lips.

For a breathless moment, the world melts away—no Drayveth, no curses, no monstrous ex-lovers from centuries past. Just Kaelith and me, breathing in unison.

Then logic slams back into me like a wall of cold water.

What am I doing? Fear and confusion churn in my gut.

I break the kiss, pulling back with a stifled gasp.

My breath fogs in the air as I stare at him.

His eyes mirror the shock and lingering hunger I feel.

My heart hammers, a swirl of emotions tangling my thoughts.

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammer, voice trembling. “That was… I mean, we’re—this is?—”

He looks torn, an echo of longing shadowed by guilt.

“Don’t apologize,” he manages hoarsely, though he’s already shifting away, wings tensing as if he’s ready to bolt.

“I—Sariah, I…” Words fail him, and he exhales, pressing a palm over the runes on his chest. Nerezza, the memory flickers in his gaze, a haunting sorrow.

I rub my hands to my heated cheek, panic creeping in. “Kaelith, I’m—are you?—”

He exhales raggedly, then lifts his eyes to meet mine. “We… can’t do this,” he says, voice laced with conflict. “Not now. Not while Drayveth is still after us and Nerezza’s shadow looms. We can’t risk repeating old tragedies.” Regret thrums beneath each word.

Tears sting my eyes anew. I want to argue, to say that we need each other, that I’m not Nerezza, that we can forge a different path.

But he’s right, at least about the danger swirling around us.

My mind reels. I’m torn between the heady rush of that kiss and the sobering truth that we’re literally on borrowed time.

Am I truly heading down the same route as the monstrous Nyxari?

I force a shuddering breath, nodding. “I know.”

He lowers his gaze, fists clenching. “We’ll talk about it. Later. Right now… we should keep moving. Drayveth might rally again.”

I bite my lip, hating how my body still throbs with the imprint of his lips, even as fear knots in my stomach.

“Okay,” I whisper, voice raw. We help each other stand, ignoring the pangs in our battered bodies.

My shoulder screams in protest, and Kaelith hisses at the cut on his temple.

But we manage to gather ourselves enough to limp deeper into the forest, leaving behind the site of our near-death skirmish.

As we trudge onward, the hush of snowfall accompanies us.

My mind reels from the collision of violence and that dizzying kiss.

My heart feels torn wide open, guilt creeping in at the edges.

Have I doomed him to heartbreak? Or maybe we’ve both clung to each other in desperation.

Either way, we can’t simply ignore what just happened.

The mark on my wrist still smolders with residual magic, a reminder of how close I came to unleashing something unstoppable. My lips tingle where his mouth crushed mine. Contradictions swirl in my head, mirrored by the bond’s flickering pulses.

We don’t speak much as we seek cover in a new hiding spot—a hollow at the foot of a massive pine.

The thick canopy overhead shelters us from the falling snow.

By the time we settle, night is creeping in, the sky turning a leaden gray.

Kaelith busies himself setting wards around the perimeter, using a combination of gargoyle glyphs and bits of leftover purna wards we scavenged.

I rummage for anything to start a fire. My shoulder throbs every time I move.

Eventually, we collapse into a tense, breathless quiet.

I concentrate on igniting a small flame with trembling fingers, ignoring the swirl of longing and guilt that roils in my chest. He observes me from the corner of his eye, runes faintly glowing in the gloom.

The wariness in his posture is tangible, layered with a flicker of regret.

We’re both reeling. We’re both uncertain how to proceed after that moment we shared.

At last, a meager fire crackles, dancing shadows over the snow-packed ground. I cradle my injured arm, trying not to wince. Kaelith folds his wings around himself, gaze distant. “We’ll rest here,” he mutters. “At dawn, we move again. If Drayveth recovers, he might try another ambush.”

I nod numbly. Silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken words.

My body aches, my magic hovers dangerously close to the surface, and my lips still burn with the memory of that kiss.

Anxiety churns in my belly, but part of me clings to the hope that this was more than a momentary lapse born of adrenaline. Yet, if I dwell on it, I might unravel.

I shift, curling my cloak around me for warmth, leaning against the trunk of the pine.

Kaelith remains near the fire, arms folded, jaw set in a grim line.

The tether hums with our ragged emotional states.

I feel his gaze slide to me occasionally, as though he can’t help but check that I’m still breathing.

Despite the tension, that awareness soothes me more than I’d like to admit.

As the night wears on, exhaustion claims us.

My eyes droop, head throbbing. I drift in and out of a restless doze, haunted by nightmares of Drayveth’s shadow serpent, the lethal burst of my own magic, and glimpses of Nerezza’s twisted visage.

I jolt awake, heart hammering, only to find Kaelith crouched beside me, murmuring words I can’t fully decipher.

His hand brushes my forehead, and I slip back into uneasy slumber, comforted by his presence.

When dawn finally creeps into the sky, pale light reveals a fresh dusting of snow over the pines.

My shoulder is stiff, the bandage crusted with dried blood.

Kaelith stands at the edge of our camp, scanning the horizon.

The injury on his head has partially clotted, though dark bruises color his arms. He seems lost in thought, or perhaps just waiting for me to stir.

My cheeks warm as I recall the kiss—and the confusion that followed. We haven’t addressed it. The moment we locked eyes earlier, he’d turned away, his expression a mix of longing and pain. Maybe it’s better to focus on survival. I push myself up, biting back a groan.

“We should go,” I say softly, my voice echoing in the hush. “We have to put as much distance between us and Drayveth as possible.”

He nods, turning. In the morning light, his features appear drawn, tension shadowing his eyes. “Agreed.” He hesitates, then speaks in a low tone. “Your wound… does it need new dressing?”

I glance at my shoulder, wincing at the seeping blood. “Yes, but it can wait until we’re in a safer spot.”

His gaze flickers to my lips, then moves to my eyes—so quick I might have imagined it. He nods. “Let’s move.” No mention of the searing kiss or the raw emotions swirling beneath the surface. I swallow the sting of disappointment, reminding myself we have bigger concerns right now.

And so we set off through the forest, forging a path east. Our footsteps crunch over frozen ground, the tether binding us in a closeness we can’t fully escape, no matter how much physical distance we try to keep.

My mind lingers on the ambush, on Drayveth’s promise that I’m destined to become what I fear.

A chill that has nothing to do with the weather grips my spine.

But I recall the fierce way Kaelith protected me, how he confronted Drayveth and shielded me from that vile serpent.

And I remember the way he kissed me, as if it were the only way to prove we’re alive in a world determined to snuff us out.

That memory fuels my tired legs, even as shame flickers at the edges—fear that I might break him like Nerezza broke him before.

We walk for what feels like miles, wreathed in silence. The brand throbs like a silent warning. Perhaps it’s telling me I’m dancing too close to a line that once consumed a great sorceress. Or maybe it’s urging me to fight harder. I can’t decide.

Occasionally, I catch Kaelith studying me, runes faintly glowing, as though checking I’m still stable after unleashing that near-lethal magic.

I offer no words of reassurance. My mind is too muddled, stuck between longing, guilt, and the iron will to survive.

He doesn’t press. Our bond resonates with unspoken tension, tangible as the frosty air.

Midmorning brings a weak sun that does little to warm us, but at least the wind eases. We find a slope dotted with pine trees, their needles thick enough to block Drayveth’s line of sight should he try to track us. Once we’re under their canopy, Kaelith finally gestures for a halt.

“Let me see your shoulder,” he says, voice subdued. The air between us crackles with the memory of last night’s closeness.

I nod silently, letting him peel away my torn cloak.

He refashions the bandage with quiet efficiency, careful not to jostle my injury.

Each brush of his fingers sends flutters through my stomach, tinged with guilt-laced desire.

I sense his own tension in the press of his lips, the measured control in his motions.

When he finishes, we stand there, uncertain. My gaze drifts to his bruised arms, the wound on his temple. “You… you should rest too,” I manage softly. “At least let me?—”

He shakes his head. “I’ll manage.” A beat of silence, then his expression softens. “We can’t keep ignoring what happened. But we can’t dwell on it either. Not when Drayveth might be hunting us.”

My chest feels tight. “I know. I’m sorry.” For everything—my recklessness, the kiss, this entire situation. The apology hovers in the cold air.

He exhales, looking at me with an unreadable gaze. “Let’s just survive first. Then… then we’ll figure out what we are to each other.” The flicker of vulnerability in his eyes twists my heart.

I nod, swallowing back a surge of conflicting emotions. “All right.”

And so we forge onward once more, leaving behind the harrowing echoes of that ambush and the scorching imprint of our first kiss.

My shoulder throbs, my magic simmers dangerously near the surface, and every step reminds me that Drayveth’s words still linger, sowing seeds of doubt in my mind. Am I truly fated to bring destruction?

But a quiet whisper of hope resounds in my chest, carried by the tether’s persistent hum.

Kaelith stands beside me, battered but steadfast. For better or worse, we’re bound together, forging a path through a world that wants us both undone.

Maybe if we hold onto that fleeting spark of intimacy, we can keep the darkness from consuming us—both the external threats and the shadows lurking in our own hearts.

I breathe in, steel my resolve, and place one foot in front of the other, determined to prove Drayveth wrong… and to discover whether that singular, heated moment between a gargoyle and an exiled purna can blossom into something stronger than fear.