The storm hit at dusk.
The wind howled like it remembered every war ever fought in these mountains. Kael stood at the narrow mouth of the cave, jaw tense, watching snow whip across the darkening sky like ash. His cloak snapped behind him, soaked and frozen at the edges, but he didn't move.
Elira lit a torch deeper inside. "We'll freeze if you stay out there."
"I've felt colder," Kael muttered, but his voice lacked edge. Just weariness.
She didn't argue. She only stepped closer, touched his sleeve, and waited. It was the waiting that undid him.
He turned. His face was drawn tight with thoughts he hadn't shared since they crossed the old border. "It's not just the weather. I feel them. Moving. Beneath the ground."
"The Woken?" she asked softly.
He nodded. "And they're closer than they should be."
The flicker of the torch caught the edges of his eyes—those cursed gold flames he couldn't hide. He looked like something born from the fire, but Elira had seen past it. She saw the way he flinched at sudden sounds. The way his hands sometimes trembled when he thought she wasn't looking. He wasn't a weapon. He was a man barely holding himself together.
"We should rest," she said, gently pulling him inside.
The cave walls were rough and narrow, but dry. Safe enough. Kael sank down beside the fire Elira coaxed into life, his knees drawn up. She knelt across from him, her fingers busy with the herbs she carried in a small leather pouch—ones meant for warmth, healing, and dreams that didn't hurt.
He watched her in silence. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Stay calm. Even now."
Elira shrugged slightly. "I've lived most of my life knowing I could be hunted for what I am. Calm isn't safety. It's survival."
He looked away, and she regretted the truth even as it sat between them like shared breath.
"I used to think I could fix it," he murmured. "The curse. The magic. Me. That if I buried myself far enough in the cold, the fire wouldn't follow."
"But it did."
"It always does."
She moved without thinking, reaching across the firelight, fingers brushing against his hand. His palm was calloused, rough with old scars, but warm. He didn't pull away. He looked at her like she was something he hadn't dared believe in.
"You don't have to fix yourself to be worthy of love," she said quietly.
His throat bobbed, and for a long time, he said nothing. Then—"Don't say things like that unless you mean them."
"I wouldn't."
Silence curled between them. Outside, the wind still howled—but inside, it was quiet enough for truth.
"I dream of burning," Kael whispered. "Not just the past. But the future. I see myself turning into the thing they always feared. A monster."
"You're not."
"I could be."
Elira leaned closer. Her voice was steady. "Then let me be the one who reminds you who you are."
Their eyes locked—and something broke open between them.
Kael leaned in, his breath trembling, his forehead pressing gently against hers. She closed her eyes. Their closeness wasn't just warmth. It was permission. It was every unsaid word between them, forming something softer, fuller than either had known.
"I don't know how to do this," he admitted.
"Neither do I," she whispered. "But I want to."
His hands came up slowly, cupping her face like she might vanish. She didn't. She stayed. And when he kissed her, it was tentative at first—then full of aching, starved devotion. The kind that tasted of cold fire and silent promises. The kind that couldn't be undone.
When they parted, the wind outside had died to a whisper.
Kael rested his forehead against hers again, his voice raw. "If anything happens to you…"
"Then you'll fight harder."
He let out a small, shaking laugh. "You sound like a queen."
"I feel like one," she said, half-smiling, "with you looking at me like that."
He pulled her gently into his arms, holding her close as if he could keep the world at bay. Elira curled into his chest, her fingers tucked into the folds of his cloak.
"We can't outrun the Woken forever," he murmured.
"No," she agreed, eyes half-closed. "But we don't have to. We face them. Together."
His grip tightened slightly, just enough to feel real. And for the first time in years, Kael let himself hope.