Kael's POV
He'd meant to touch her. That much was true.
But he hadn't meant to feel her like this.
The warmth of her, the fire whispering beneath her skin, was unlike any sensation he had ever known. It wasn't just heat. It was magic — alive, wrapping around him like vines around stone, rooting itself into the corners of his soul. The frost in his veins — the legacy of the Vorenth line — should have risen up to smother it. Instead, it bowed.
Kael had kissed women before. He had taken lovers in cold castle chambers, always silent, always distant. None of them had ever felt like this. None of them had answered something inside him.
And when she whispered, Touch me, every instinct of control he had ever mastered fell silent.
He hadn't removed her cloak, not yet, but his hands slid beneath it. He memorized the feel of her waist beneath his fingers, the shiver that ran down her spine when he kissed the side of her throat. Her Mark flared against his lips — hot enough to scorch, but it didn't.
She was pure flame, and he was choosing to burn.
But then—
The door shook.
Once. Twice.
Loud. Urgent.
Kael stiffened. Eira's eyes flew open.
"Prince Kael!" a voice shouted from outside. "It's urgent!"
He stepped back, breath ragged. Eira's chest rose and fell in rhythm with his. Her mouth was parted, cheeks flushed, magic humming around her in waves.
The moment shattered.
Kael crossed the room in three strides and cracked open the door.
"What?" he snapped.
His second-in-command, Warden Elric, stood outside, snow in his beard, armor still misted with frost. "The Northern Court sent a hawk. An emissary from the Eastern Sea has arrived unexpectedly. They're demanding your presence tonight. Now."
Kael exhaled slowly, cold crawling back into his lungs. "Tell them I'll be there within the hour."
As Elric turned to go, Kael shut the door and leaned his forehead against it for a beat.
Behind him, Eira was smoothing her tunic, her hands shaking.
"You're a prince," she said softly. "You have duties."
"I didn't ask to be," he replied.
She looked at him, unreadable. "And I didn't ask to be born cursed."
Kael crossed back to her, reached out, and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
"This isn't over," he said.
A small, sad smile touched her lips. "It never really started."
Then, quietly, she left.
Eira's POV
She didn't let herself cry until she was out in the snow.
The heat between them had been real — not just lust, not just power. Something older hummed between their magic, like their bodies were answering a song older than language. Her fire had chosen him.
And she didn't understand why.
She moved through the trees beyond the village edge, the root for Lira tucked safely in her pouch. She had what she came for.
So why did she feel emptier now than when she'd arrived?
She should've left the moment she saw him. She knew better than to want something she could never have. A Warden. A prince. The enemy. And yet… his hands hadn't felt like an enemy's. His mouth had felt like salvation.
But it wasn't real.
It couldn't be.
The forest swallowed her.
She didn't realize the danger until it was too late.
Kael's POV
He left the inn ten minutes later, armor fastened, rage simmering under his skin.
Not at her.
At himself.
What in the gods' names was he doing?
He was heir to the most powerful throne in the Northern Realm. His people had seen their sons burned alive, their cities razed by fireborns. He'd sworn an oath to hunt them all. And yet — he'd kissed one. Touched her. Wanted her.
More than that, his magic had answered hers.
And that terrified him.
A bond between opposite magics was impossible — wasn't it?
His mind reeled as he mounted his horse, Elric beside him.
But then—
Screams.
A flare in the forest.
Heat.
He yanked the reins, eyes narrowing toward the treeline. Elric shouted something behind him, but Kael didn't hear it.
He was already moving.
Eira's POV
The bounty hunters moved fast.
Three of them. Cloaked. Armed. She'd felt the shift in the air a split-second before the first one dropped from the trees. She spun, flame bursting from her palm, knocking him backward.
The second one hit her from behind, blade grazing her shoulder.
Pain tore through her. Her blood boiled.
She screamed, and fire answered.
The air around her erupted in a ring of heat, melting snow in a ten-foot circle. The third hunter stumbled back, eyes wide.
"Gods—she's marked—"
Eira's flames snapped into his cloak, climbing up his sleeve in an instant. He fell back, screaming.
The one behind her grabbed her by the hair and slammed her to the ground.
She tasted blood.
"I'll take her alive," he growled, "double price for a living brand."
"No," came a voice.
Low. Icy. And furious.
Kael.
Kael's POV
He saw red.
The man had Eira on her knees, blood on her mouth, magic flaring wildly from her fingers.
Kael didn't think.
He moved.
His sword flashed in one smooth arc — slicing through the man's wrist before the bounty hunter could strike again. Blood sprayed into the snow. The man screamed.
Kael didn't stop.
Two more strikes, and the hunter was down.
Dead.
The other two fled — one already half-burned. Kael let them go.
His eyes locked on Eira, who was struggling to stand, blood at her temple.
"Why are they hunting you?" he demanded.
"Because I'm rare," she whispered. "Because I'm not supposed to exist."
She staggered.
Kael caught her before she fell, arms around her.
Her skin burned against his — not from power, but from fever.
Too much magic. Too fast. And she was hurt.
He lifted her easily into his arms.
"I'll kill every last one of them," he growled.
She looked up at him, dazed. "You already did."
"No," he whispered, tightening his hold. "Anyone else who touches you like that—anyone who dares—won't live long enough to regret it."
Eira's POV
She should've pulled away.
But she didn't.
His arms were strong. Solid. And even though he was ice, she felt safe in his hold.
That scared her more than the bounty hunters.
Because she could feel the magic between them deepening. Shifting.
Something was changing.
And once it did, there would be no undoing it.