The words he'd said in the courtyard still lingered in my chest, warm and confusing, like sunlight that didn't know whether to soothe or burn. I'd told myself I wouldn't let him under my skin again—not after everything—but here we were, and my heartbeat betrayed me with every uneven thud.
Kael had been quiet since we left the gathering, walking half a step behind me as though he was both guarding and studying me. I didn't dare turn to meet his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at me that could strip me bare without touching a single thread of my gown.
The evening air in the castle was cool, smelling faintly of rosewater from the gardens below. Servants passed with lowered eyes, and the distant murmur of the court felt like a different world from this quiet corridor. My fingers brushed the stone wall as we walked, grounding myself.
"You're distracted," Kael said at last, his voice low. Not accusing—just… certain.
I hesitated. "Maybe."
"Maybe," he repeated, and I could hear the faint edge of a smile, even if I couldn't see it. "Or you're trying not to think about something."
I stopped walking, turning to face him. His hair was a little untidy from the wind earlier, and there was a faint crease between his brows that I wanted, absurdly, to smooth away. "And what makes you so sure you know me well enough to say that?"
His eyes locked with mine, a stormy blue that made me feel like the ground beneath us might shift. "Because I do."
The silence stretched, heavy with something neither of us was ready to name. My lips parted, but before I could speak, a sudden burst of laughter echoed from somewhere down the hall—a reminder that the rest of the world still existed.
Kael stepped closer, and I felt the heat of him seep through the cool air. "Aria," he said softly, and there was a tenderness in the way he said my name that made my chest ache. "If you don't want me here, tell me. I'll walk away."
The thing was—I couldn't. Even when every logical part of me whispered that it would be safer.
Instead, I turned and kept walking, my heart beating too fast. "Come on. I'm tired."
We reached my chambers, the doors tall and carved with the crest of my family. I pushed them open and stepped inside, expecting him to remain in the hall. But when I glanced back, he was leaning against the doorway, watching me like I was the only thing worth looking at.
"You can't keep looking at me like that," I said, my voice coming out quieter than I intended.
His head tilted slightly. "Like what?"
"Like you're…" I trailed off, realizing the truth in my throat was too dangerous to speak aloud. "Never mind."
He pushed off the doorway and came inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click that somehow sounded louder than it should have. My pulse jumped.
"Tell me," he said.
I shook my head, backing up until the edge of my bed met the back of my legs. "You shouldn't be here."
"Then tell me to leave."
I couldn't.
Instead, I said, "You're dangerous, Kael."
Something flickered in his expression—pain, maybe. Or regret. "Only to people who mean you harm."
"That's not what I meant," I whispered.
He stepped forward, close enough now that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. "Then tell me what you did mean."
I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to his chest, then rising again despite myself. "You make it… hard to breathe."
His lips curved, but it wasn't amusement—it was something deeper. "Good."
And then, without touching me, he let his hand hover near my cheek, his knuckles close enough that if I leaned just a little… I didn't. Not yet. The tension coiled tighter between us, every second stretching like it might break.
"Kael," I said, his name a warning and a plea all at once.
He lowered his voice to a near whisper. "You think I don't feel it too? This thing between us—it's going to burn us alive if we let it."
My breath hitched. "Then maybe we shouldn't."
His gaze dipped to my lips, then back to my eyes. "Or maybe we should."
The air was heavy, and the quiet in the room was louder than any noise could have been. I felt like if either of us moved, the world would tip into something neither of us could come back from.
Finally, he stepped back, breaking the moment with a sharp breath, as though pulling himself from the edge of something dangerous. "Rest, Aria," he said, his tone rough. "You'll need your strength."
"For what?"
His eyes darkened, but he didn't answer. He only turned toward the door.
Before he left, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Lock your door tonight."
The latch clicked behind him, and I stood there, my hands trembling, my heart an unsteady drum in my chest.
Outside, the wind shifted. Somewhere in the dark beyond the castle walls, danger moved closer. And deep down, I knew Kael was right—whatever this was between us, it was only the beginning.