It had been a week since we retrieved the Fire Relic.
A whole, frustrating, confusing week.
The only good thing about it was that Revik was healing faster than expected. His stubbornness refused to let him rest, and somehow, that relentless spirit carried him through. The deep gash on his head had faded into a thin, angry scar—but it suited him. He wore it like proof that he'd survived what most wouldn't.
We all had.
Training with Raiden continued, though it felt… different. His methods hadn't softened—he still pushed me past every limit, demanded focus, precision, control—but now he was colder. Detached. Distant in a way that made the air between us feel heavier than any fire I could summon.
Sometimes he didn't even train me at all.
Muir would show up instead, tossing me a knowing grin and saying, "Adaptability, Primal. You'll need it when we chase the next relic."
And he wasn't wrong. If I wanted to master all the elements, I needed to understand them—to flow between them like breath. So, I trained.
Fire with Raiden.
Water techniques with Muir.
Between the two of them, I barely had time to think. But that didn't stop one thought from clawing at me every night:
The kiss.
We hadn't spoken about it. Not once. And I hated how much that bothered me.
Every time I saw him across the courtyard or caught his eyes during training, my chest tightened. I'd tell myself to ask—to just get it over with—but the words never came. What if it had been nothing more than heat and adrenaline? What if I meant nothing?
Worse… what if It did?
I exhaled sharply, standing at the edge of the courtyard as the evening heat rippled through the air. Overthinking wouldn't help. If I wanted answers, I'd have to stop waiting for him to give them.
Tomorrow, I told myself. I'll ask him tomorrow.
⸻
Training began like it always did—sparring under the red glow of the rising sun. But something felt off. My thoughts weren't on the fight. Maybe it was Revik leaning against a black pillar, arms crossed, watching us with that amused smirk of his. Maybe it was the fact that Muir was gone, leaving me no distraction.
No. I knew exactly why.
I'd made up my mind.
I rolled my shoulders back and took my stance. Across from me, Raiden mirrored the motion, eyes locked on mine. Power hummed beneath my skin, fire curling around my fingertips. His expression was unreadable, his usual half-smirk gone—replaced with something sharper.
Fine. If he wouldn't bring it up, I would.
Flames flared from my palms as I launched forward. "We need to talk about what happened."
Raiden sidestepped easily, lightning crackling across his hands. "You'll have to be more specific."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about."
He moved again, his tone maddeningly calm. "Do I?"
My frustration flared. I sent another burst of fire, forcing him to dodge. "The kiss, Raiden! What did it mean?"
He exhaled, blocking my next strike with a wall of lightning. "Is now really the best time?"
"Yes," I snapped. "Since you've been avoiding me every other one."
Instead of answering, he attacked again—faster this time, forcing me back on the defensive. Sparks and flame collided, heat biting at my skin.
"Stop running from this!" I shouted, striking harder.
He caught my wrist, twisting. I wrenched free, spun, and slammed my shoulder into his chest, knocking him flat on his back. The ground cracked beneath us.
I pinned him there, breathing hard, fire dancing over my skin. "Tell me," I said, voice trembling with anger. "What did the kiss mean?"
For once, his confidence faltered. The edge in his gaze softened—just for a heartbeat—before he moved again. In a flash, his hands shot up, gripping my arms, and he rolled us over, reversing our positions.
He held me there, lightning crackling faintly around his fingers. "Like I said before," he rasped, his voice rougher than before, "now really isn't the time."
"Then when?" I demanded, twisting beneath him. "When you've decided to pretend it never happened?"
His jaw tightened. He didn't answer.
I used the momentum of my tail to flip us again, straddling him, breath coming hard. "I never took you for a coward."
That earned a dark, humorless laugh. "Careful, little thief."
"Then tell me!" I snapped. "Just tell me what it meant!"
His eyes locked onto mine. For a moment, I saw something there—something raw, unguarded. Then it vanished.
"It meant nothing," he said. Too fast. Too cold. "Just adrenaline. The heat of the moment."
The words hit harder than a blade.
Nothing.
I stared at him, every thought in my head shattering at once. My body moved on instinct—I rolled off him, stood, brushed dust from my clothes.
"Where are you going?" he called after me, voice lower now, almost unsure.
"Training's over," I said evenly, though the ache in my chest burned far worse than any fire.
"Lyra—"
"I get it," I cut in, not trusting my voice to stay steady. "There's nothing left to say. You said it all."
And then I walked away.
At least now I knew.
I just hadn't expected the truth to hurt so much.
⸻
The morning heat still clung to the air when I found myself sitting alone in the courtyard, arms wrapped around my knees. The sky was streaked with red and gray, ash drifting lazily from the volcano's breath—a reminder that even when the fire sleeps, it never truly dies.
The stone beneath me was still warm. Too warm. It made it hard to forget the way his lips had burned, the way his words had frozen everything after.
I pressed my forehead to my knees and exhaled, trying to steady the mess in my chest.
I didn't know how long I sat there before footsteps approached.
Revik dropped down beside me with a quiet groan. "You look like you're thinking too hard again."
I glanced at him, forcing a smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." He rolled his shoulder and grinned. "Healers say I'm a miracle. I say I'm stubborn. But maybe I should be asking you that question instead."
I frowned. "What?"
He raised a brow. "It's all over your face, lovey."
I sighed. "It's not."
"Lyra."
"I asked a question and got an answer." I forced a smile. "Nothing to be upset about."
"Depending on the answer," he said gently, "you're allowed to be."
I gave a small, humorless laugh. "It doesn't matter."
"It does," he pressed.
For a moment, I didn't answer. Then I let out a shaky breath, leaning back on my hands. "I guess I'm just… disappointed," I admitted quietly. "Maybe I wanted it to mean something."
Revik didn't speak, just waited, patient as ever.
"I mean, it's stupid, right? I barely know him." My throat tightened. "It was reckless to think it could've been more."
I swallowed, forcing my voice to steady. "But it doesn't matter. He made it very clear."
Revik sighed, then reached out to ruffle my hair.
"Stop that," I muttered, swatting him away.
He just grinned. "Not a chance." His voice softened. "Listen, lovey—Raiden's… complicated. He's got more walls than the palace itself. Don't take everything he says at face value."
I frowned. "Why?"
"That's for him to explain." He met my gaze. "But trust me—sometimes people push others away for reasons they don't even understand."
I didn't know what to say.
All I knew was that his words stirred something in me—a truth I didn't want to face.
Because no matter how hard I tried to deny it…
I felt something for Raiden.
And whether he felt it too or not—
That was something I wasn't sure I'd ever figure out.