The storm came without warning.
A strange silent wind swept through the city of Valcaria just past dusk curling through the alleyways and palace gates like a whispered promise, Torches lining the stone streets flickered and dimmed not from the wind's strength but from something unseen—an old pulsing magic that hadn't stirred in the capital for nearly a century
Captain Kael Thorne felt it first
Not as a soldier
Not as a wielder of steel and order
But as a man
He stood at the eastern parapet of the royal citadel, watching the clouds ripple over the moon like velvet fingers, Below him the city's heartbeat slowed and quieted,The usual clamor of taverns and merchants had dulled into a strange hush and in that silence he felt it—an ache beneath the ribs, sharp and sudden
Like desire
Like danger
He turned, jaw clenched beneath his collar "Magic" he muttered to himself, the word bitter on his tongue
Magic was forbidden in Valcaria not officially—no decree had been issued—but centuries of fear, war, and quiet disappearances had buried the art deep underground those who practiced it either burned or vanished
Kael had seen both happen and he had ensured both happened
Yet now... it was in the air tangible,Sweet as perfume, It tugged at his senses like a lover's breath against skin
The next morning word of her arrival spread like fire through parchment
A woman in crimson silk, barefoot, unmarked by dust or rain had walked through the northern gates at dawn No coin, no name, no purpose but her beauty—gods, the way they spoke of her—men stammered,Women flushed
She looked at you, they said, and you forgot your own name
She smiled, and it lingered in your veins like wine
But it was her kiss they whispered about
The baker's boy claimed she brushed her lips against his hand and his weak knee healed
The widow swore her lips touched hers, and she dreamed of her lost husband that night—his voice, his warmth and his touch
Lies, Kael thought "Dangerous lies"
Yet when he saw her, that belief faltered
She sat alone at the heart of the Market Square on the edge of the old fountain long run dry Her hair was black as eclipse, a river of silk down her back, Her skin gleamed gold in the sun and her dress—thin as breath clung to her curves like a second skin,She was still not drawing attention but commanding it
Kael didn't approach, He watched from a distance hood drawn low and still felt her aura
She turned her head, eyes locking on him through the crowd
Eyes not blue, not green—but both Shifting like forest leaves in light
Her smile curled, lazy. Knowing
His pulse kicked
He turned sharply cursing himself, retreating toward the barracks, He was not a boy to be ensnared by looks He was trained, disciplined and immune
But that night he dreamed of lips that brushed his throat, breath that whispered his name
and fire
Not heat but Fire
He woke in a sweat, his heartbeat hammering like war drums, the sheets tangled around his legs, His hands ached as if they had held her His lips tingled as if they'd been claimed
"This is nothing" A spell, a trick, Nothing more
He told himself
But the scent lingered
Like jasmine
Like stormlight
Like the kiss of something dangerous
And Captain Kael Thorne—champion of law, breaker of spells, and ice-hearted sentinel of Valcaria—was already, irreversibly, burning
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