The citadel's council chamber was warmer than usual.
Or maybe it only felt that way because Elena was burning beneath her own skin, sitting alone on a bench along the wall while twelve councilors watched her as if she were an unfamiliar beast that had wandered inside.
Whispers churned like snakes.
"She vanishes for days—"
"Found in Kharathi custody—"
"Unacceptable security risk—"
"She should be confined until we—"
The great doors slammed open.
Not pushed.Not politely opened.
Slammed.
Soren entered like a storm given human shape—cloak snapping behind him, boots striking stone with lethal purpose. Kael followed, silent and watchful.
The room dropped into absolute silence.
Every councilor bowed—instinct, fear, survival reflex.
Soren did not acknowledge them.
His gaze went directly, unerringly, to Elena.
Heat punched through her chest so fast she forgot to breathe.
Then he turned to the council, expression carved from winter.
"Begin," he said.
Lord Eraven stood first—of course he did—nervous hands smoothing his ornate robes.
"Your Highness," he began, "we must address the… incident. A foreign woman abducted from within Varyn walls reveals obvious vulnerabilities in your leadership—"
Kael inhaled sharply.
Soren didn't.He stood perfectly still.
Too still.
Elena tensed.
Eraven continued, emboldened by his own stupidity.
"A woman who appeared from nowhere. A woman tied to an unexplained rift. A woman the Empire clearly wanted. We must consider the possibility that she is—"
Soren's voice dropped so low it barely counted as sound.
"Finish that sentence," he said, "and I will tear out your tongue."
Eraven went white.
Another councilor cleared his throat. "Your Highness, it is our duty to protect the realm. The woman may be dangerous—"
"Dangerous to whom?" Soren asked softly. "She can barely lift a sword."
Elena bristled.Rude.Accurate, but rude.
"We propose," the councilor said timidly, "that she be confined to supervised quarters until we can fully investigate her nature."
Soren stepped forward.
The entire row of councilors leaned back in unison.
"You think," he said, voice ice-laced steel, "that after she was chained in a cell, beaten, dragged across the border, and nearly killed— for being connected to the rift —I will lock her in a room?"
"Your Highness—"
He didn't let him finish.
"You did not keep her safe."His gaze swept them like a blade."You did nothing while she was taken."A beat."And now you dare suggest she is the threat?"
A councilwoman tried, shakily: "We only seek to ensure the realm remains secure—"
Soren's jaw clenched. "The realm is secure. Because she is back. Because I went after her. Because eight Sentinels spilled Kharathi blood for her." He leaned forward, voice lowering to lethal softness."If any of you touch her, confine her, threaten her, or speak of her as property—"His eyes darkened."—you will lose your hands before you lose your tongue."
The chamber froze.
No one breathed.
Not even Elena.
Soren straightened, cloak sweeping behind him, posture precise and unyielding.
"Elena remains under my protection," he said. "That is final."
A councilor dared, "But—why? Why expend such effort for her?"
Soren's head turned toward him with the slow, terrible precision of a predator who had already decided where to bite.
"Because she matters," he said simply.
The words echoed through the chamber.
Not shouted.Not defensive.
Just truth, delivered like a blow.
Elena's breath caught.
Her heart—already tender from too much fear and too little rest—softened and twisted simultaneously.
Soren turned fully to her.
"Come," he said quietly.
No command.No force.
Just a word that felt like a hand extended toward her chest.
Elena rose slowly, ignoring the council's eyes. She walked to his side. Felt the warmth radiating from him. Felt safer than she could justify.
Soren didn't touch her.
But he stood close enough that every councilor understood:
This woman was off-limits.
They left the chamber together.
Only when the doors closed behind them did Elena whisper, voice thin:
"You didn't have to do that."
Soren looked at her. Really looked.
"When they speak of you," he murmured, "they speak of me."
She frowned. "I don't understand."
He stepped closer.
"Your harm is my failure." His voice softened. "And I will not tolerate either."
Her breath caught.
Soren held her gaze a moment longer, then turned away, tension still rolling off him like heat.
"We will discuss why you went to the prisoner later," he said. "And why you ignored my orders."
Elena winced. "Right. That."
"Oh yes," he said darkly. "That."