The Wildlands stretched before them, a vast, endless expanse of thorns, broken trees, and a sky bruised purple with the coming storm.
Kael held Seris close, his cloak wrapped around her slender frame, shielding her from the chill winds. Her body trembled against him, part from cold, part from the fever that had begun to creep into her wounds.
He had never felt so helpless.
They stumbled forward, both leaning on each other, their steps uneven. Blood trickled down Kael's side from a gash he'd hardly noticed, and yet his entire being was consumed not with his own pain but hers.
"Almost there," he murmured into her hair, his voice low, ragged. "I won't let you fall."
Seris lifted her head. In the dim light, her silver eyes, once so proud, so defiant, were softer now, shining with something that twisted Kael's chest in ways he couldn't explain.
Not hatred, not anger. Something far more dangerous, trust.
A gust of wind howled through the barren land, scattering ash and dead leaves around them.
Kael guided her beneath the hollow of a fallen tree, sheltering them from the worst of the storm. He settled against the roots, pulling her into his lap carefully, his heart pounding as he felt the frailty of her form against his.
"You should not... care," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I was your enemy."
"You were never my enemy, Seris," Kael said, his throat tightening. "Not truly. Even when I hated you, part of me—"
He stopped, jaw clenching, part of me already loved you.
The words sat heavy on his tongue, but he couldn't say them yet.It was too soon. Too raw. Too terrifying.
He lifted his hand instead, brushing a strand of damp hair from her forehead. She leaned into his touch without thinking, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
The world around them vanished, nothing but the beating of two battered hearts, stitched together by blood and fate.
Flashback.
Kael remembered the first time he saw her, truly saw her.
Not the general in gleaming armor, not the enemy.
But a girl, alone in a shattered temple, her hands trembling as she clutched the body of a fallen comrade. The moment had broken something inside him, he had wanted to turn away, to hate her, but he couldn't. Because he saw himself in her grief.
The storm outside raged louder. Inside their small shelter, Kael tightened his arms around her, as if he could shield her from the past, the pain, the inevitable choices that waited beyond the dawn.
Seris stirred against him, her head pressing to his chest.
"You should hate me," she whispered again, weaker this time. "For what I did to your people. For what I took from you." He tilted her chin gently upward until their eyes met, and he saw the raw regret there, the wounds deeper than any blade could carve.
"I should," he said hoarsely. "But I don't."
Her lips parted, a soft tremble running through her. Kael leaned in without thinking, drawn by a gravity stronger than fear, stronger than reason.
Their foreheads touched, breath mingled, he could taste the salt of her tears.
"Sleep," he whispered. "I'll keep you safe."
She nodded faintly, and as her eyes fluttered closed, Kael felt something crack inside him, a wall he had held up for too long shattering in the silence between them.
It was not loyalty that made him stay, not honor, not duty, it was love.
Terrible, impossible love, the kind that could tear kingdoms apart and rebuild them from ash.
Far off in the night, wolves howled, danger still circled them, but in that moment, beneath the broken sky, Kael and Seris found a fragile, burning peace.
And somewhere in the shadows of their memories, in stolen glances across enemy lines, in bitter prayers whispered into the wind, in nights when they had each wept alone, the first seeds of their love had already taken root.
They just hadn't known it yet, the fire between them burned low but persistent, a slow heat beneath all the cold and blood.
As Seris dozed against him, Kael found his fingers brushing over her wrist, feeling the faint pulse flutter there. She was so light in his arms, and yet the weight of her presence pressed against every locked chamber of his heart.
He closed his eyes and breathed her in — the scent of rain and steel, of something delicate beneath all her armor.
How had he not seen her before? Not the commander, not the conqueror, but the woman who had wept over her dead, who had fought not for glory but for survival.
A memory stirred, barely a whisper, of a night long ago, before the kingdoms fell to war. A masked ball,a forbidden dance in a hall of marble and roses.
He had touched her hand then, laughing beneath the glow of a thousand candles, never knowing who she truly was.Could it be? Had fate already woven them together before swords were drawn?
Seris shifted in her sleep, a faint whimper escaping her lips. Without thinking, Kael pressed a kiss to her forehead, a feather-light promise he dared not voice aloud.
Outside, the storm began to break, the first hint of dawn bleeding into the ruined sky.
He held her closer, he would survive for her, he would burn for her, he would become anything, everything, if it meant she would live.
Kael shifted slightly, adjusting his hold on her. Each breath she drew was a fragile thing, a ghost against the storm howling outside.
He watched her in the dim half-light, the way her lashes trembled against her pale cheeks, the soft curve of her mouth as she dreamed.
What dreams haunted her now?
Did she dream of the empire she had lost? Of the soldiers who had fallen by her side? Or worse, did she dream of him, the man who should have been her executioner, yet had become her only refuge?
A bitter ache lodged in his throat.
I will carry your sins too, Kael thought fiercely. If the gods demand a price for your life, let them take it from me instead.
He would not lose her, not again.