KAEL*
The chamber was silent, save for the low murmur of distant voices from the Incubi Council's private antechamber. Kael sat on the obsidian bench carved with the court's crest, his fingers steepled under his chin, gaze unfocused. The near-kiss with Talia played again in his mind... her scent, the way her breath had hitched, the vulnerability she tried so hard to bury. It rattled him more than any duel ever had.
He shifted his shoulders, rolling out the tension, but it was no use. He wanted her. Craved her. Not just her body, though the ache was undeniable, but her trust. Her truth. The very soul behind her rage. He'd seen a glimpse of Tanya in her, and that terrified him.
Because if she remembered who she was… would she hate him for failing to save her the first time?
A knock echoed against the stone wall. One of the guards bowed slightly at the door. "The council is ready for you, my lord."
Kael stood and adjusted the crimson cloak draped across his shoulders. No longer just a disgraced heir. The duel with Saelis had ended with a cracked floor, broken bones, and Kael standing victorious. The Council had reinstated him, but not all were thrilled. He had enemies in that room, many who still answered to Veyros.
And Veyros? He was watching. Always.
---
After the meeting concluded, tedious as it was, Kael made his way through the winding halls toward his private wing. He paused at a side door, scanning the perimeter.
"You can come out now, Luthen."
The shadows near the corridor shimmered, and a figure stepped forth. Luthen moved with preternatural grace, his eyes a burnished gold, skin marked with faint glyphs that pulsed softly.
"Took you long enough," Luthen said, adjusting the dagger at his belt. "I was starting to think you forgot I hate waiting."
Kael offered a tight smirk. "I didn't call you here to coddle your ego. I have a task."
Luthen raised a brow. "Tracking or disposal?"
"Tracking only. Her name is Talia. Human. Demon hunter. Light Chaser. But she's more than that."
Luthen's expression shifted. "The Void-bearer?"
Kael's eyes narrowed. "You've heard?"
"Whispers. Rumors. Nothing concrete." Luthen's voice dropped. "You want me to watch her?"
"Not just watch," Kael replied, voice hard. "Protect her. From afar. No interaction unless absolutely necessary. And if the wrong people start sniffing around her… you tell me. Not Ruth. Not the Light Chasers. Me."
Luthen studied him. "You're in love with her."
Kael's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. Luthen gave a knowing smile and nodded. "Consider it done."
---
Later that night, Kael passed through an old portal hidden beneath the cathedral ruins outside the city. He emerged in a small grove within the Mistlands where few dared to tread.
Mireva's hut stood crooked, nestled into a knotted oak tree whose bark pulsed faintly with enchantment. A smoky, acrid scent filled the air. She was expecting him.
Mireva, the sorceress who looks like she was blind but saw too much, stood at the threshold. Her eyes were white as snow, but her presence was impossible to ignore.
"The heir returns," she murmured. "What do you seek, Kael of the crimson court?"
"Truth," he answered. "About the Void. About Talia."
Mireva turned and shuffled inside. Kael followed.
Her table was littered with bones, runes, a cracked mirror, and a bowl of dark, glistening liquid. She touched the edge of the bowl and whispered something in a language older than time.
"She is remembering," Mireva said at last. "Slowly. Carefully. But the past is not content to remain buried."
"You've seen her future?"
Mireva's expression darkened. "The future changes when eyes are placed upon it. But there are constants. Pain. Fire. Sacrifice."
Kael's gaze hardened. "Tell me what I need to know."
Mireva nodded solemnly. "The Void chooses only those it can bind to. It does not simply sit in the bearer. It learns them. It loves them. To rip it out would rupture more than the body, it would unravel the soul."
Kael stood silent for a long moment. Then he whispered, "There's no way to separate her from it?"
"Not without killing her," Mireva said. "Just as it killed Nyros."
Kael clenched his fists.
Mireva tilted her head as if listening to something far away. "Veyros moves in shadow. The storm he's brewing will reach you soon, Kael. Be ready."
---
Kael paced his chamber an hour later, every word weighing like chains on his shoulders. His mind roared with questions, but one thing was clear:
He had to tell her.
He summoned his link-stone a communication device of old magic and whispered her name.
"Talia. Meet me at the old ravine near the Pale Lantern. Midnight. It's urgent."
He hesitated before ending the link.
She deserved the truth.
Even if it damned them both.