The garden breathes around us. Not like the Shadow Keep does, with its whispers and warnings, but like something ancient that's simply waiting. The wild things here don't care who we are. They've seen blood and love and curses before. Maybe they even grew from them.
Kael stands still as stone, but I know better. He's a storm with nowhere to go.
I take one more step toward him.
The shadows hesitate.
So do I.
"If it feeds on grief," I whisper, "then why not let it starve?"
Kael's gaze flicks to me, quick and sharp. Like I've said, something dangerous, or worse, something hopeful.
"You think it's that simple?" he asks.
"No. But maybe it's that hard."
The air between us is thick. Not just with the weight of unspoken things, but with magic. Ancient and wild. The kind that doesn't hum or whisper—it listens.
I should be afraid. I am afraid.
But not of him.
Not anymore.
Kael stands a few steps away from me in the garden that doesn't know how to bloom properly. The twisted vines curl around broken stone. The wildflowers that grow in the wrong seasons. The weeds that reach for the stars like they remember a time before curses. It's all alive here, but barely like it's holding on for someone to save it.
Maybe it's holding on for him.
Or maybe for both of us.
He doesn't speak but watches me like I've said too much. Like I've dared to see too deeply.
I lift my chin and take another step forward, even though my heart is a wild thing in my chest. Even though the shadows are curling tighter around him like jealous things watching me, testing me.
Kael's jaw tenses. His eyes are narrow, dark and endless, and stormy.
"You think I haven't tried?" he says, and his voice is the sound of splintering glass, sharp, dangerous, barely holding together. "You think I haven't begged, clawed at the very edges of the magic, screamed into its silence for years?"
"I think you've done everything except let yourself be free of her," I say softly.
He flinches.
His silence is louder than thunder.
"I saw her," I continue. "Lira."
He goes completely still. Like the world stops moving for him.
His eyes lock on mine. "What did she say?"
"She said the curse didn't end when she died," I reply. "Because you still love her. Because it feeds on what's broken inside of you."
His lips part like he's about to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, his hands curl into fists at his sides, and I swear the shadows do the same.
I take a shaky breath. "She said you need to let her go."
A beat of silence.
Then he laughs.
But it's not a happy laugh. It's a sound made of ashes. Of ruins and regret.
"Let her go?" he echoes. "Tell me, Aria… how do you let go of the only person who ever saw you? Whoever chose you when the rest of the world turned its back?"
"I don't know," I whisper, stepping closer, "but I think… maybe I'm trying to see you too."
His breath hitches.
I watch his expression shift, like something inside him is breaking and healing all at once. His walls are made of grief, and I can feel the cracks now. I can feel the way he's trying not to let me in.
But the truth is, I'm already here.
"You think I'm brave," I say, "but I'm not. I'm scared all the time. I'm scared of the curse, of what it wants. I'm scared of what loving you could cost me."
His head snaps up. His eyes burn.
"But I'm more scared of walking away before I even try."
The wind stirs around us. The garden seems to hold its breath.
"I think," Kael says, his voice barely a rasp, "that you're the cruelest kind of kind. You don't walk away from things just because they hurt."
"I don't," I admit. "And maybe that's why I'm still here."
He doesn't look away. "You should be."
"Maybe. But I'm not."
The shadows between us shift like they're uncertain, like they can't decide if I'm friend or foe.
I take another step. This time, I reach for him.
My fingers brush his, and I half expect the magic to lash out. To strike me down.
But it doesn't.
It waits.
Kael's skin is cold, but not empty. His pulse flutters under my touch. And still, he doesn't move away.
"I want to know the truth," I say. "All of it. The parts that scare you. The parts that curse you. I want to understand what this place took from you. What is it still taking?"
He finally, finally, turns to me fully.
And when he speaks, it's like he's peeling open an old wound.
"You want the truth?" he says. "The truth is, I watched the woman I love die screaming. The truth is, I buried her with my own hands and felt the earth recoil. The truth is… I don't think I ever stopped dying with her."
I don't breathe. I can't.
"But you're still alive," I say, voice shaking. "And that means you still get to choose what happens next."
He looks at me like I've said something impossible.
Then something inside him shifts.
His shoulders lower. His fists unclench. His jaw relaxes just enough to look human again.
And the shadows?
They pull back.
Just a little.
Like they're… listening.
"You should hate me," he murmurs.
"I don't."
"You should run."
"I won't."
He shakes his head, almost in disbelief. "Why?"
"Because someone has to choose you this time."
The silence that follows is different now. Not sharp. Not bitter.
Quiet.
Like maybe, just maybe, the garden isn't the only thing starting to grow again.
Kael steps closer, until there's no space between us, only breath and fire and too many things we're not saying.
"I don't know if I can be saved," he whispers, "but if I can… it would be by you."
And just like that, something changes.
In him.
In me.
In the magic.
The shadows hiss and then vanish, just for a second.
But I saw it.
Kael saw it.
And somewhere deep in the earth, the curse stirs.
Like it's realized something new.
Something dangerous.
Something like hope.