The sound of the war horn has faded, but the square remains tense, as if Eldoria's breath has been held.
Lyra shouldn't be here.
She could return to her carriage, surround herself with silks and wine, pretend that warrior doesn't exist.
But she doesn't.
She follows him.
She finds Kael in a side alley, giving orders to a group of guards. The torchlight highlights the hardness of his features, the shadow of his beard, the tension in his arm muscles.
He moves with the precision of a man used to surviving—and commanding.
"I told you to stay where you were," his voice is sharper than reproach when he sees her approach.
Lyra tilts her head, playful.
"Yes… and I decided to disobey. It's a habit."
He measures her with a look, more threat than woman.
"You don't have permission to use your magic in the city."
"I don't need permission," she replies, her eyes lighting with a silver gleam.
An ancient whisper passes her lips: a spell of attraction, pure and direct, without subtleties.
The air thickens. The heat between them grows.
Kael blinks, his pupils dilate, his breathing slows, deepens.
Lyra smiles.
"See? Everyone falls."
Kael steps toward her. She waits for him to give in, to touch her…
But at the last moment, his hand closes around her wrist and pushes her against the wall.
The spell shatters like glass.
Lyra gasps, more in surprise than pain. Kael's hand traps her, and the heat that radiates is not from magic but his own body.
"Don't try that again with me," he growls, so close she feels his breath brush her lips.
"Or you'll… what?" she whispers, provocative.
Kael clenches his jaw, but his eyes don't lie: there is desire.
He lowers his head just slightly, and his lips brush hers. Not a full kiss, just a fleeting touch—but enough to send an electric shiver down her spine.
When he pulls away, he looks at her as if he just tasted poison and isn't sure whether to spit it out or ask for more.
"Don't touch my mind, sorceress… or I'll touch your heart."
Lyra watches him leave, her lips still burning.
She's not sure who won.
But she knows, with absolute certainty, that neither of them is finished.