The echoes of battle faded, leaving behind a chilling stillness, broken only by ragged breaths and the steady drip of water from the cavern ceiling. Flickering torchlight stretched long, grotesque shadows across stone—the fallen sprawled where they had dropped, half-human, half-beast forms twisted in death. A reminder that this place bred things far worse than common bandits.
Lyra stood with her sword tip resting against the ground, chest heaving. Blood matted her sleeve, a deep claw mark torn across her arm. Pain pulsed dully now—less sharp than before, but heavy, insistent. The familiar weight of command pressed down on her shoulders, the same burden she had carried since inheriting her father's title.
Selene sank to her knees among the wreckage, eyes moving swiftly over the group. Shawn's jaw was clenched tight. Rory's hands trembled, scraped and raw. Elise leaned heavily on her blade.
And Lyra—
Lyra was bleeding.
Without hesitation, Selene moved to her.
Lyra flinched at the first touch, instincts still screaming danger, but Selene's hands were steady—cool against the fever of her skin. A soft, silvery glow bloomed between Selene's palms, gentle rather than blinding.
It wasn't fire.
It wasn't force.
It was warmth.
Moonlight spilled over Lyra's wound, weaving through torn flesh like living thread. The pain dulled, then vanished entirely, leaving behind a strange hollowness that made Lyra's breath catch. Her knees nearly buckled.
No matter how many times Lyra witnessed Selene's power, it still stole something from her chest.
Mercy was harder to endure than pain.
Selene's green eyes were threaded now with silver, moonlight sinking beneath their surface instead of reflecting off it. Her brow furrowed in quiet focus as the cavern itself seemed to soften—stone listening, shadows retreating.
When Selene lifted her gaze—
Lyra forgot how to breathe.
She meant to pull back.
She didn't.
Green met green. Silver pulsed between them—not light, but presence. Intimate. Immediate. As if Selene's eyes had always known where to find her.
It wasn't awe.
It was recognition.
Something deep and instinctive locked into place inside Lyra—sharp as a blade finding its sheath. The same sense that told her when to strike, when to shield, when to stand now whispered something far more dangerous.
Here.
This one.
For a heartbeat too long, the cavern ceased to exist. Blood cooling on stone, the dead at their feet, the war waiting beyond the border—none of it mattered. There was only the charged space between them, humming with something ancient and unspoken.
Lyra's hand twitched, wanting—needing—to close that distance. To anchor. To protect.
Selene's pupils widened, silver deepening, and Lyra felt it then—not magic reaching outward, but something answering back. Gentle. Unaware. Yet unmistakably present, like a tide testing shore.
Lyra's jaw tightened.
This wasn't choice.
It was response.
Selene blinked, the silver dimming as the moment loosened—but the pull remained, coiled beneath Lyra's ribs. She forced a slow breath, grounding herself through discipline alone, even as certainty settled cold and clear in her chest.
Whatever Selene was—
Whatever her past it—
Lyra knew one truth with terrifying clarity.
If the world tried to take her, it would have to go through Lyra first.
"Thanks," Lyra murmured at last, voice rough.
Selene tilted her head, worry softening her features. "Does it hurt?"
Lyra flexed her arm. Smooth. Whole. "No. It's… better."
Relief flickered across Selene's face. Her gaze dropped. "I just don't want you to get hurt," she whispered. "Because of me, you always get hurt."
Something in Lyra broke open at that.
She lifted Selene's chin gently, forcing her to meet her eyes. "Listen to me," Lyra said, low and steady. "I don't get hurt because of you. I step forward because you're worth it."
Selene's breath caught.
Lyra's hand moved before thought could stop it, fingers brushing Selene's jaw, tracing the curve of her cheek. Selene froze, lashes fluttering. Moonlight clung faintly to her skin, and Lyra caught her scent—clean, soft, like rain on stone.
The kiss began as hesitation.
Then deepened.
Slow. Certain. A surrender.
The cavern fell away. Blood, stone, shadow—none of it mattered. Only warmth. And the steady, undeniable pulse between them.
When Lyra finally drew back, her hand lingered at Selene's neck. Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling.
"I like you," Lyra whispered, voice trembling with vow and fear alike. "You're important to me. I'll always protect you."
Selene didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Her fingers hovered at Lyra's chestplate, unwilling to let go.
"That was amazing!"
Rory's voice shattered the moment as he ran toward Pyn, eyes bright with awe. "Look! No more cuts or scrapes!"
"Selene is amazing! You don't even look surprised—did you know she could do that?"
The cavern seemed to hold its breath.
All eyes turned to Pyn.
For once, her grin was gone.
She stood unnaturally still, eyes wide, fixed on Selene. Torchlight danced across her face, but couldn't soften the intensity of her stare.
Pyn had seen this before.
Years ago—there had been a woman with hair like woven starlight and hands that glowed just like this. Moon Weaver, the elders had whispered. A blessing. A secret meant to be hidden.
Now that same light lived in Selene.
Lyra noticed the look—
the awe.
the pull.
Heat flared sharp and sudden in her chest.
This wasn't curiosity.
It was want.
Pyn's grin slowly returned—thinner now. Deliberate. Her gaze lingered on Selene, bright with something half-reverent, half-dangerous.
Lyra stepped subtly closer to Selene.
Claiming space.
When the group finally moved on, the cavern gave way to a narrow passage—stone worn smooth by countless careful steps. The air changed instantly. Lighter. Cooler. It carried the scent of rain-soaked earth and blooming night-flowers.
They stepped through—
Rory gasped. "Woah…"
Avalon opened before them.
Rolling terraces beneath a twilight sky of indigo and silver. Flowers bloomed as they passed, petals glowing faintly before closing behind them. Firefly-like insects drifted in slow spirals, their wings catching the light.
"It's beautiful," Rory breathed.
Selene turned slowly, eyes wide. "It feels… alive."
Pyn glanced back, smile unreadable. "Avalon protects what the world forgot. Magic never fully died here though not as powerful as before.It just learned how to hide."
Lyra tightened her grip on Selene's hand. Selene laced their fingers together instinctively.
Whatever this place was—
Lyra would guard her light within it.
And for the first time, she knew—
duty had nothing to do with it.