Chapter 12

  The morning arrived with the soft golden glow of dawn spilling through the cracks of their hut. Ember stirred, only to find herself trapped.

  A pair of slender arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, a face buried against her back.

  Elena.

  Ember sighed, wiggling slightly. "Oi. Get off."

  No response.

  She turned her head slightly, catching the slow, even rise and fall of Elena’s breathing. Still asleep.

  For a moment, Ember debated shoving her off, but the warmth was… nice. And after all the tension between them lately, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She closed her eyes again, just for a second—

  Snacks, curled up at the edge of the bed, let out a small grunt and shifted, disturbing the quiet.

  "Alright, that’s enough—" Ember grumbled, finally twisting out of Elena’s grasp. The movement was enough to make Elena groan in protest, her brows furrowing as her arms weakly reached out for Ember again.

  Ember wasted no time.

  She grabbed a pillow and shoved it into Elena’s arms.

  Elena grumbled something unintelligible and instinctively curled around it, holding it close as she buried her face into it.

  Ember smirked, victorious.

  She sat up, stretching, only to feel a small weight press against her arm. Snacks had crawled up and was now leaning against her, looking up with big, expectant eyes. The little creature let out a small noise and nuzzled against Ember’s hand.

  "Hungry, huh?" Ember muttered, rubbing behind its ear.

  Snacks made a soft sound of agreement.

  Ember reached for a strip of dried meat from her pouch, breaking off a piece and tossing it to the little creature. Snacks caught it mid-air and happily chewed away as Ember ran a hand over its head.

  "Spoiled brat," she muttered, but the affectionate way she scratched behind its ears said otherwise.

  Behind her, Elena let out a sleepy yawn, stretching her arms above her head. She scratched her scalp lazily, eyes half-lidded. "Morning already…?" she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

  "Yeah." Ember stood up, adjusting her belt. "I’m heading out."

  Elena blinked, still groggy. "Huh?"

  "Work. Tasks. Stuff." Ember waved a hand vaguely. "I’m going."

  She didn’t wait for a response, slipping out the door before Elena could say anything else.

  Elena, still sitting in bed, stared at the closed door.

  She blinked again.

  Then, yawning, she flopped back down. "Hmph. Alright, then."

  Outside, the day was already bustling with activity.

  Ember threw herself into work, lifting supplies, securing food stocks, reinforcing huts, and occasionally scolding a few Aelyr for slacking off. She didn't stop. Not once. From morning to sunset, she worked until everything was finally complete.

  By the time evening arrived, the entire settlement was nearly ready.

  Food? Stocked.

  Shelters? Built.

  Three more days, and they would be leaving this swamp.

  The air was lighter, the tension of survival easing as the Aelyr settled into their temporary home.

  Elena and Ember found themselves talking, the conversation surprisingly natural, flowing with ease.

  Until—

  "Well, well, well."

  Freya’s voice cut through the conversation, amusement dripping from every word.

  Ember and Elena turned to see Freya approaching with her usual teasing smirk, Maia trailing not far behind.

  "Good to see you two finally made up," Freya continued, crossing her arms. "Had us all worried for a moment there. Thought we’d have to stage an intervention."

  "We were fine," Ember muttered.

  "You absolutely were not," Maia added, grinning. "The amount of times Elena complained about you—"

  "I DID NOT—!" Elena’s face turned red. "Kaelen just—he asked—and I—!"

  "—couldn’t stop whining about how Ember was being difficult?" Maia finished, raising a brow.

  Elena groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I hate you."

  "Love you too." Maia winked.

  Freya chuckled, shaking her head. "Reminds me of someone," she said, nudging Maia playfully.

  Maia rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. ‘Oh, Maia, you were so stubborn when we first met’—" she mimicked in an exaggerated voice. "‘You were always so cold, but secretly you cared’—"

  "Because you were!" Freya pointed at her dramatically. "Don’t pretend like you weren’t insufferable at first."

  "I was not insufferable," Maia scoffed.

  "You punched me."

  "You deserved it."

  "You PUNCHED me."

  Ember snorted.

  Elena, however, was still red in the face. "We’re NOT a couple," she blurted, trying to steer the conversation away from herself.

  "Oh?" Freya raised a brow. "Not yet?"

  "Not ever," Ember muttered.

  "Mm-hm. Sure." Freya grinned knowingly.

  Ember exhaled sharply. "Anyway—" she swiftly changed the subject. "The work is done. That’s what matters."

  "True," Freya nodded, but then her expression turned slightly more serious. "That reminds me—Ember, tell me more about the Iorph tribes. Their abilities."

  Ember opened her mouth to answer—

  But before she could, Elena spoke up instead.

  "I can tell you," she said, stepping forward slightly.

  Freya looked intrigued. "Oh?"

  Ember, too, raised a brow but didn’t interrupt.

  Elena straightened, folding her arms. "There are six major tribes in Iorph, each with their own specialties."

  She took a breath and began.

  "The Orion Tribe—Ember’s tribe—are hunters. They specialize in tracking, endurance, and combat. They can take down creatures twice their size and track prey over vast distances."

  Freya nodded, listening intently.

  "The Exavas Tribe are scouts," Elena continued. "They explore, gather intelligence, and navigate terrains no one else dares to enter. Their agility and survival instincts are unmatched."

  She continued, her voice steady, her words confident.

  "The Sainn Tribe are the agricultural backbone of Iorph. They’re the ones responsible for sustaining the people, cultivating crops even in the harshest environments."

  "The Hydrion Tribe control and manage water sources. They keep our rivers flowing, ensuring that Iorph never runs dry."

  "The Caron Tribe—" She smiled slightly. "—are animal experts. They raise and train creatures, ensuring that Iorphians have companions for both work and battle."

  And finally—

  "The Ciam Tribe. Healers."

  Her voice softened slightly.

  "They hold the knowledge of herbal medicine and spiritual healing. They mend what’s broken—whether that be bodies or spirits."

  When she finished, there was a brief silence.

  Freya looked… impressed. "You know a lot," she remarked.

  Elena shrugged. "I listen."

  Ember, who had remained quiet the entire time, finally spoke.

  "You got them all right," she admitted, tilting her head slightly at Elena. "Didn’t know you paid that much attention."

  Elena smirked. "See? I’m not just a pretty face."

  Ember rolled her eyes, but there was something almost fond in her gaze.

  Freya chuckled. "Well, that certainly explains a lot."

  Maia, smiling softly, nodded. "It’s good to know where you come from," she said. "And even better to know where you’re going."

  Elena glanced at Ember.

  Ember glanced back.

  The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the gathered group. Freya and Maia sat across from Elena and Ember, their teasing earlier now replaced with genuine curiosity. The conversation had drifted into Iorphian customs, and soon enough, Maia’s sharp gaze landed on Ember.

  "What exactly is that mark on your hand?" she asked, tilting her head. "You always trace it when you’re thinking."

  Elena glanced at Ember’s hand, where the faint sigil rested against her skin. She had seen it appear out of thin air before—watched as it formed, like a whisper of magic given shape. Before Ember could answer, Elena spoke up.

  "It’s her sigil," she explained. "I’ve seen it before. It’s not something you’re born with. It’s given."

  Freya raised a brow. "Given? By who?"

  "Not by someone," Elena shook her head. "It’s earned. You don’t just get one for existing. You have to do something—something defining. And then it appears."

  That piqued their interest.

  "So, it’s like a mark of achievement?" Maia asked.

  "Something like that," Elena nodded. Then, lowering her voice slightly, she muttered, "And it also makes a woman stop having her monthly cycle."

  Silence.

  Freya blinked. "…What?"

  "Wait, hold on—" Maia leaned forward, frowning. "Are you saying—"

  "That’s what I said!" Elena threw up her hands. "The second I realized, I was like, ‘Am I the only one experiencing this!?’"

  Freya’s expression twisted in mild disbelief. "That doesn’t seem natural."

  "It’s just how it works in Iorph," Elena shrugged. "No one questions it."

  "No one questions it?" Maia frowned. "That’s… harsh."

  "Harsh?" Elena tilted her head. "I mean… I guess, when you put it that way…"

  "What if someone doesn’t want it?" Freya asked. "Do they have a choice?"

  Elena hesitated.

  Ember, who had remained silent through the whole discussion, finally spoke. "No," she said simply. "Once it’s given, it doesn’t go away."

  Maia and Freya exchanged glances, clearly unsettled by the idea.

  "That’s…" Maia started, then stopped herself. "You really don’t get a say in it?"

  Elena shook her head. "No."

  Freya glanced at her, something unreadable in her gaze. Then, after a brief pause, she asked, "So, does that mean you have one too?"

  The question hit harder than Elena expected.

  Her stomach twisted.

  She hadn’t expected them to ask.

  And now, sitting here, in front of Ember, Maia, and Freya, she suddenly felt small.

  She looked down at her hands, her fingers curling slightly.

  The silence dragged.

  Freya and Maia must have noticed her hesitation because their expressions softened slightly.

  "Elena—"

  "So," Ember suddenly cut in, voice smooth, "how exactly did you two end up with a kid?"

  The shift in topic was so sharp that it took a second for the meaning to register.

  Freya blinked. "Wait, what?"

  "Raellin," Ember said, leaning back. "I assume you weren’t given him the way Iorphians get their sigils, so how did that happen?"

  Elena barely held back a sigh of relief as the conversation veered away from her lack of a sigil.

  Freya smirked, crossing her arms. "Oh, you’re deflecting, but fine—I’ll let it slide." She leaned back, glancing at Maia with amusement. "Do you want to tell them, or should I?"

  Maia rolled her eyes. "You’ll make it sound dramatic. I’ll do it."

  And just like that, the conversation turned, the weight of the moment easing from Elena’s shoulders.

  But even as they laughed at Maia’s story about Raellin’s early days, a part of Elena couldn’t ignore the quiet sting in her chest.

  The way Freya had looked at her. The way the question still lingered, unspoken.

  She didn’t have a sigil.

  And even if Ember had changed the subject, Elena knew—

  She had noticed too.

  Raellin yawned as he rubbed his sleepy eyes, leaning heavily against Freya’s leg. The night air was crisp, and the fire had burned down to a low, glowing ember, casting long shadows across the camp.

  "Alright, alright," Freya chuckled, picking the boy up effortlessly. "Looks like we should all call it a night."

  Maia stretched her arms, nodding in agreement. "Mm, we’ve got work tomorrow anyway. You two better not stay up all night whispering secrets." She smirked at Ember and Elena.

  "We’re not children," Ember muttered, but she didn’t argue when Elena tugged on her wrist, silently guiding her toward their shared hut.

  The walk back was quiet, save for the chirping of distant night creatures. Snacks trailed lazily beside them, occasionally brushing against Ember’s leg.

  As soon as they reached their hut, Elena was the first to speak.

  "You didn’t have to cover for me," she said, crossing her arms. "It’s like you’re still protecting me. I don’t want that."

  Ember sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I didn’t mean to—" She hesitated, frowning. "It just… happened."

  "It just happened?" Elena raised an eyebrow. "You—you literally changed the subject so fast it made my head spin."

  "I know!" Ember groaned, rubbing the back of her neck. "I didn’t expect that question to come out of Maia’s mouth. My mind just… panicked. It was embarrassing."

  Snacks, sensing Ember’s distress, hopped onto the bed and nuzzled into her side, purring contently.

  Elena watched the little creature press itself against Ember, completely smitten with her. She frowned. "That’s not fair."

  "What’s not fair?" Ember blinked at her.

  "That!" Elena pointed at Snacks. "Why does she love you more than me? I carried her around for so long, and now she won’t even sit on my lap!"

  Ember smirked, scratching under Snacks’ chin. "What can I say? I guess she just knows who the better person is."

  "Oh, we’ll see about that!"

  Elena lunged forward, trying to pry Snacks from Ember’s grasp. Ember, of course, wasn’t going to let that happen. She turned away, keeping Snacks just out of reach.

  "Ember!" Elena huffed, reaching for the creature. "Give her back!"

  "No."

  "I swear—"

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  One push, one misplaced step, and suddenly—

  They both lost their balance.

  Elena barely had time to process what was happening before her back hit the mattress, and Ember landed right on top of her.

  The air between them shifted.

  It was familiar.

  This position—Ember above her, Elena below—wasn’t new. It had happened before. But this time, something was different.

  Something was charged.

  The teasing stopped. The laughter faded.

  Elena looked up at Ember, her eyes tracing over her features—those sharp yet soft expressions, the way her red hair fell around them like a curtain.

  And then, slowly, she reached up.

  Her fingers brushed against Ember’s face, tracing the line of her cheekbone.

  "I like your eyes," she whispered, her voice softer than before. "And your body is really warm."

  Ember’s breath hitched.

  Elena’s hand moved lower, her fingers resting lightly against Ember’s neck. The touch wasn’t forceful, wasn’t demanding—but it lingered, almost as if she were testing something. Almost as if she were pulling her in.

  Ember swallowed hard.

  They were too close.

  She could feel Elena’s breath against her lips.

  Could hear the way her own heartbeat was pounding in her ears.

  Could feel the moment pulling them together, drawing them in—

  KNOCK, KNOCK.

  The sound made Ember jump so violently that she nearly rolled off the bed.

  "What—" She clutched her chest, heart hammering.

  Elena, however, didn’t move.

  She didn’t flinch. Didn’t jump.

  She just watched Ember, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

  "You’re panicking," she mused.

  "N-no, I’m not—"

  "You are," Elena whispered, tilting her head. "That’s cute."

  Ember scowled, scrambling to her feet as the knock came again. "Who the hell is knocking at this hour?!" she muttered, storming toward the door.

  But as she reached for the handle, she could still feel Elena’s fingers on her skin.

  Still feel the warmth of that moment lingering in the space between them.

  And she didn’t know why, but it made her nervous.

  Ember swung the door open with more force than necessary, her face still slightly flushed. Outside, one of the Aelyr stood with an apologetic expression, holding a small cloth-wrapped package.

  "Sorry to bother you so late," the woman said, shifting on her feet. "Freya asked me to drop this off. It's extra cloth in case you two need to patch anything up before we leave."

  Ember exhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus. "Right. Thanks." She took the package and, without another word, shut the door.

  Leaning against it for a moment, she closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. Her heart was still racing, her skin still tingling from where Elena had touched her.

  What the hell was that?

  Turning back, she found Elena still lying on the bed, her head propped up on one arm. She was watching her, that same small smile lingering on her lips.

  "You look flustered," Elena murmured.

  "Shut up," Ember shot back, tossing the cloth package onto the table.

  Elena chuckled but didn't push further. Instead, she stretched, her shirt lifting slightly as she yawned. "Mmm, I guess we should sleep."

  Ember hesitated. "Yeah."

  For a moment, neither of them moved. There was something unfinished in the air, something unspoken. It clung to Ember like the warmth of a fire she wasn’t sure she wanted to step away from.

  But instead of acknowledging it, she moved toward her side of the bed and sat down. "Turn off the lantern," she mumbled.

  Elena complied, and as darkness settled over them, Ember felt the bed shift as Elena settled beside her.

  Silence.

  Then—

  A soft rustling, followed by something warm pressing against her back.

  "What are you doing?" Ember’s voice was a whisper.

  "Hugging you," Elena answered, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "You’re warm."

  Ember tensed, her heart thudding against her ribs. "Elena—"

  "Shhh," Elena murmured sleepily, her grip tightening just slightly. "Just let me stay like this for a little while."

  Ember exhaled slowly. She should push her off. She should tell her to stop.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the moment.

  Letting herself forget—just for a little while—that this was dangerous.

  That she was standing on the edge of something she might not be able to step back from.

  Ember lay still, her muscles coiled like a spring. The warmth of Elena’s body against her back was unbearable—too much. She could feel the slow rise and fall of Elena’s breathing, the way her fingers unconsciously curled against the fabric of Ember’s shirt.

  It would be so easy.

  She could turn around. Wrap her arms around her. Hold her tight and let her lips ghost over the curve of her jaw, let her voice slip into something softer—something real.

  She could make Elena hers.

  But she couldn’t.

  Ember clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms, trying to will the feeling away. She had already overstepped—already let Elena see too much. The way she got angry when Kaelen was involved. The way she refused to let her be seen as weak. The way her heart lurched every time Elena smiled at her, as if she was the only person in the world.

  It was selfish.

  Elena deserved freedom. She deserved to choose—and Ember couldn’t take that choice away from her.

  But still—

  "You’re warm," Elena murmured again, voice thick with sleep, as if she was afraid Ember might slip away.

  Ember swallowed, her throat dry. "Elena..."

  No.

  She couldn’t.

  She forced herself to shift, just slightly, enough to create distance. "You’re clinging too much," she muttered, her voice rough.

  Elena huffed, adjusting her grip. "And?"

  "And," Ember said, "I need to sleep."

  A soft chuckle. "Then sleep."

  Elena’s breath tickled the back of her neck, and Ember bit the inside of her cheek.

  Her body betrayed her—her fingers twitching, aching to move, to hold.

  She wanted to be selfish.

  She wanted to claim Elena as hers—only hers.

  To make sure no one else ever got to hold her like this.

  To make sure Kaelen never had a chance.

  But that wasn’t what she was allowed to do.

  So instead, she let out a slow breath and lied to herself. "I don’t like this."

  Elena didn’t reply right away, but when she did, her voice was quiet. "Liar."

  Ember squeezed her eyes shut.

  She couldn’t do this.

  Not without ruining everything.

  So she let the silence settle again.

  She let Elena’s warmth lull her into something close to sleep.

  But she didn’t let herself dream.

  Because she knew—if she did—she’d see a future that wasn’t hers to have.

  Ember woke up to warmth—not just the lingering heat from where Elena had curled against her but something deeper, something buried beneath her ribs that she didn’t want to name.

  She shoved the blanket off and got out of bed before she could think too much about it.

  A cold shower. That would help.

  Except it didn’t.

  Even with the frigid water soaking her hair and trickling down her spine, her thoughts swarmed like a storm. She didn’t know what to do with herself—didn’t know how to fix this restless feeling in her chest.

  So she left.

  Stepping out into the swamp, she let herself wander. The damp earth squelched beneath her boots as she moved through the thick fog hanging over the water. The pools weren’t just filled with fish—there were creatures with bioluminescent patterns swimming beneath the surface, their eerie glow flickering as they darted through the dark waters.

  Strange.

  Iorph wasn’t like this.

  The creatures, the land, even the air—it was different.

  The Old Iorphians…

  The thought struck her suddenly. She had never asked Freya or Maia about them, about what happened to the Iorphians who left Iorph before her time.

  She made a mental note to do that later.

  For now, she turned back, making her way to the huts.

  But the second she opened the door—

  She froze.

  Kaelen.

  Elena.

  Kaelen had Elena backed into a corner, one arm braced against the wall beside her head, leaning in too close.

  Elena wasn’t pushing him away.

  She wasn’t even moving.

  What the hell is this?

  A sharp, searing heat crawled up Ember’s throat. Before she could stop herself, her fingers clenched into fists, and—

  BANG!

  She slammed the door shut.

  Not bothering to look back.

  Not bothering to listen.

  Not caring.

  She turned on her heel and walked away.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  The sound of footsteps behind her made her jaw clench.

  "Ember—"

  No.

  She didn’t want to hear it.

  "Ember, stop!"

  A hand caught her wrist.

  She ripped it away. "Go back to your conversation, why don’t you?"

  Elena huffed, stepping in front of her, forcing her to stop. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  Ember scoffed, crossing her arms. "What’s wrong with me? Are you seriously asking me that?"

  "Yes!" Elena threw her arms up. "One second you’re fine, the next you’re acting like I just set Iorph on fire! What did I even do?!"

  Ember wanted to ignore her.

  She should have.

  But the words snapped out of her before she could stop them. "Maybe Kaelen should be the one answering that for you."

  Elena’s brows furrowed. "What?"

  Ember clenched her jaw. "I saw it, Elena. You and him. What, were you about to kiss? Or were you waiting for me to leave so you could—"

  "Oh, for the love of—!" Elena let out a frustrated groan, rubbing her temples. "Is that why you’re pissed? Because Kaelen was standing too close?"

  Ember’s nostrils flared. "Don’t act like I imagined it! He cornered you! I saw it!"

  "It wasn’t like that!" Elena shot back, eyes flashing. "Kaelen was just—!"

  "Just what?" Ember snapped, stepping forward. "Just checking if you’re interested? Just waiting for the right moment? Just—"

  "Why do you even care?!"

  The words rang between them, cutting through the thick swamp air.

  Ember’s breath hitched.

  Elena looked at her, eyes searching—waiting for an answer.

  Ember couldn’t give her one.

  So she turned away. "Forget it."

  "No," Elena said, grabbing her wrist again. "You keep acting like this and I don’t know why."

  Ember swallowed hard, fingers twitching at her side.

  She didn’t know what to say.

  Or maybe—

  Maybe she did.

  But saying it would break something.

  So she pulled her wrist free again, stepping back.

  "Just stay away from him," she muttered, voice low. "That’s all I’m saying."

  Elena’s gaze softened just slightly. "Ember…"

  "Don’t."

  With that, Ember turned and walked away—ignoring the ache in her chest, ignoring the fact that Elena still wasn’t following.

  Ember had barely taken three steps before her body froze.

  Her heart was pounding so loud, she could hear it in her ears, feel it in her throat.

  Her fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms.

  You know what?

  Her breath shuddered.

  No. No, I’m not doing this.

  I’m not running this time.

  With that thought, she spun around.

  "Screw it."

  Her voice came out low, firm—shaking only slightly.

  Elena’s head snapped up, startled.

  Ember started marching toward her.

  Elena took a step back.

  Ember kept coming.

  Elena took another step.

  Then another.

  Her back hit a tree.

  She was trapped.

  For a second, neither of them moved.

  The swamp was eerily silent except for the faint hum of insects in the distance, the occasional croak of some unseen creature in the pools.

  Elena’s breathing was uneven.

  Ember’s?

  Her entire chest was burning.

  She stepped closer, close enough to see the subtle parting of Elena’s lips, the uncertainty flickering behind her eyes.

  Then, finally, she spoke.

  "You know what I hate?"

  Her voice was raw, strained, almost desperate.

  "I hate that I care about you this much."

  Elena’s eyes widened.

  Ember clenched her jaw. "I never wanted this feeling, Elena. I never wanted to feel like this. I wanted to be okay with you being with anyone. I wanted to just stand by your side and be fine with whatever choices you made, whoever you wanted to be with."

  Her breath was shallow, her heart raging inside her chest.

  "But I’m not okay with it."

  Her hands curled into fists, nails digging in so hard she felt them against her skin. "Every time I think about it—about you with someone else—anyone else—it makes me mad. It makes my heart ache so much I can barely stand it."

  She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back for a second, as if trying to breathe. "I have never felt like this before. Ever."

  Her voice wavered slightly.

  "And I hate it."

  Elena swallowed, still pressed against the tree, her hands twitching slightly at her sides.

  Her voice was small when she finally spoke. "Then… why are you telling me this now?"

  Ember let out a sharp breath, almost a bitter laugh. "Because I can’t stop myself anymore. Because no matter how much I try to ignore it, no matter how much I try to convince myself that it doesn’t matter—"

  Her voice dropped into something almost dangerous, something close to breaking.

  "—it does."

  Elena’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

  Ember could feel her pulse hammering inside her throat, feel the tension crackling in the air between them.

  For the first time since this entire mess started—since that stupid night where she lay awake thinking about her, since all the moments she had tried to push the feeling away, bury it deep where it couldn’t touch her—

  For the first time, she was standing in front of Elena and saying it out loud.

  Even if she hated every second of it.

  Even if it was already too late to take it back.

  The weight of her own words crashed down on Ember like a tidal wave.

  Her breath hitched.

  What did I just say?

  Panic surged up her throat, choking her.

  Without thinking, she took a step back.

  Then another.

  She turned, ready to run.

  But before she could take a single step—

  Warm fingers wrapped around her wrist.

  Firm.

  Unyielding.

  Elena’s grip wasn’t forceful, but it was strong enough to stop Ember in her tracks.

  "Don’t run away," Elena’s voice was soft, but there was something pleading in it. "Not this time."

  Ember swallowed hard, not turning around.

  Elena took a small step closer. "Please. Let’s go inside. Kaelen’s gone, I swear. We can talk about this. We can… figure it out, right?"

  Her voice wavered slightly, unsure but determined.

  Ember squeezed her eyes shut.

  No, no, no…

  This was a mistake.

  She shouldn’t have said anything.

  She shouldn’t have let herself lose control like that.

  Shouldn’t have admitted the one thing she was trying so hard to hide.

  Her fingers twitched at her sides, her heart still hammering.

  She could feel Elena’s gaze on her, searching, waiting.

  Ember inhaled sharply, but she didn’t pull away.

  She didn’t turn around, either.

  She just stood there, her body frozen between fight and flight.

  As soon as they stepped inside the hut, Ember let her wrist slip from Elena’s grip and walked straight past her. She didn’t look back, didn’t say a word—just moved toward the farthest corner of the room, as if putting as much distance between them as possible.

  Elena hesitated at the door, watching her. The energy between them had changed the moment they crossed the threshold. Out there, Ember had been raw, unfiltered, saying things she’d probably never meant to say aloud. But now—now, she was shutting down.

  Elena took a careful step forward. “Ember…?”

  No response. Ember sat on the edge of the bed, back turned, fingers curled into the fabric of her pants. Her shoulders were stiff, locked up tight like she was bracing for something.

  “You wanted to talk,” Elena tried again, softer this time. “Let’s talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” Ember’s voice was flat. Distant.

  Elena frowned. “You just said—”

  “I said a lot of things,” Ember interrupted, her tone carrying an edge now. She finally turned her head, just slightly, eyes flickering to Elena’s for a brief moment before darting away. “Forget it.”

  Elena exhaled through her nose, frustration building. She wasn’t going to let this happen—not this time. Not when Ember had just given her a glimpse into something real.

  She walked closer, standing directly in front of her. “No. I’m not forgetting it.”

  Ember scoffed and leaned back on her hands. “Then that’s your problem, isn’t it?”

  That stung. Elena clenched her jaw, trying to push down the frustration rising in her chest. Ember never let anyone in, and now, after finally slipping, she was pretending like none of it had happened.

  “This is what you do,” Elena said, crossing her arms. “Every time something gets too real, you shut down. You run away.”

  Ember tensed.

  “You act like it’s nothing,” Elena continued, voice rising. “Like you didn’t just tell me you—”

  “Drop it.”

  “No.”

  “Elena.” Ember's voice was sharp now, dangerous. A warning.

  Elena swallowed but didn’t back down. “You said it hurts. That it makes you mad. Why?”

  Silence.

  Elena stepped closer. “Ember—”

  “I said drop it,” Ember snapped, standing up so fast Elena instinctively took a step back. “I don’t want to talk about it. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a mistake.”

  Elena’s breath hitched. “A… mistake?”

  The words were sharp enough to cut, but Ember didn’t take them back. Didn’t look at her. Just turned away again, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

  Elena stood there, stunned, her heart pounding in her chest. She had expected resistance, but this—this was different.

  Ember was building a wall, higher than ever.

  And for the first time, Elena wasn’t sure if she could break through.

  Elena didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Ember’s face, hands firm yet gentle, forcing her to look at her. The moment their eyes met, she saw it—the pain buried deep, the fear clawing at the edges of Ember’s resolve.

  Elena’s voice was quiet, but it trembled, raw and pleading. “Am I a mistake?”

  Ember’s breath caught in her throat.

  “Is being with me a mistake?”

  A sharp, shattered inhale. Ember’s lips parted, but no words came out, as if something inside her had snapped, breaking her open in a way she hadn’t been prepared for.

  She shook her head.

  For the first time, tears welled up in Ember’s red eyes, catching the dim light of the room. She swallowed hard, struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. “No—no.” Her voice cracked. “Not you. Never you.”

  Elena’s hands didn’t move. She just watched, listened—waited.

  “It’s me,” Ember rasped, pressing the heel of her palm to her eyes, trying to force the tears back, but they slipped through anyway. “It’s me.”

  Elena stayed quiet, giving her space to say what she needed.

  “I think you’re the most beautiful person in all of Golust,” Ember admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, like saying it any louder would make it more real. “In all of Iorph.” A shaky breath. “I want to be with you, Elena.”

  Elena felt her heart clench.

  “But I can’t.”

  Elena frowned, her grip tightening. “Why not?”

  Ember let out a shaky, bitter laugh, tilting her head back slightly as if searching the ceiling for answers. “Because I’m not allowed,” she choked out. “I’m not allowed to love you the way I do.”

  A pause. A silence so heavy it felt like it could crush them both.

  Ember’s voice wavered, raw and open in a way she had never allowed before. “I will never be able to give you the kind of love you deserve.”

  Elena’s breath hitched. Slowly, she reached for Ember’s hand, taking it in her own. Ember flinched slightly at the warmth of the touch, but she didn’t pull away.

  Gently, Elena guided Ember’s hand to her face, pressing it against her cheek.

  Her skin was soft, warm—inviting.

  Elena closed her eyes, leaning into Ember’s palm, as if drawing strength from it. “Then tell me what kind of love I deserve,” she whispered.

  Ember’s lips trembled. “A love that doesn’t hold you back. That doesn’t make you doubt yourself. A love that lets you be free and happy and safe.”

  Elena opened her eyes, looking directly into Ember’s. “And you think you can’t give me that?”

  Ember didn’t answer right away. She stared at her hand against Elena’s face, at the way Elena leaned into her touch so naturally, like she belonged there.

  Her fingers curled slightly, tracing the edge of Elena’s jaw.

  “I don’t know how,” Ember admitted, voice cracking. “I don’t know how to love you without—without ruining everything.”

  Elena’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice.

  She turned her face, just slightly, pressing the lightest kiss to Ember’s palm. “Then we’ll figure it out together.”

  Ember pulled her hand away, breaking the warmth between them. She turned her face, her eyes shimmering red from the tears that still clung to her lashes. A quiet sniffle escaped her as she tried to compose herself, but the weight of the moment was pressing down too hard, too deep.

  The dim light of the room caught in her short, fiery hair, making it glow like embers in the dark. Even in this vulnerable state—eyes wet, face flushed from emotion—she looked stunning.

  Elena sat beside her, silent at first.

  Then, she moved closer, resting her head on Ember’s strong, solid shoulder. She could feel the tension in Ember’s body, the way she was trying to hold herself together, but Elena didn’t move away.

  Instead, she let out a soft breath and spoke, her voice gentle but unwavering.

  “I don’t think love is supposed to be perfect,” she said, watching as Ember’s fingers curled into fists on her lap. “And I don’t think someone in love is supposed to know everything about it.”

  Ember swallowed, but she didn’t say anything.

  “They only figure it out when they try,” Elena continued. “And even if they fail, that’s okay. Love just needs to be there—as long as it’s there, we can try again.” She lifted her head slightly, looking at Ember’s profile. “We can learn each other more.”

  Ember let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You make it sound so simple.”

  “Because it is simple,” Elena murmured.

  Ember finally turned toward her, her red eyes filled with something unreadable—fear, frustration, longing. “It’s not,” she whispered. “Not for me.”

  Elena reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against Ember’s arm. “Then tell me why.”

  Ember closed her eyes, taking a slow, shaky breath. “Because I don’t think I’m capable of your love.” Her voice was hoarse, raw. “I’m not Kaelen. I’m not mentally strong like him, or like Eli.” Her fingers curled tighter, nails pressing into her palms. “I’m just… me.”

  Elena frowned slightly, then reached up, gently turning Ember’s face toward her.

  “That’s why I like you.”

  Ember blinked, confusion flickering across her face. “What?”

  “I like that you’re just you,” Elena said, her voice firmer now. “You’re the one who teases me when I’m being dumb. You’re the one who takes care of me even when you pretend not to.” She gave a small smile, her fingers tracing lightly along Ember’s jaw. “You’re Ember.”

  Ember stared at her, utterly still.

  “I don’t want Kaelen,” Elena continued. “I don’t want Eli.” She shifted closer, searching Ember’s gaze. “I want you.”

  Ember’s breath caught in her throat. She looked like she wanted to say something—wanted to argue, to pull away—but she couldn’t.

  Because Elena wasn’t letting go.

  Because no matter how much Ember tried to fight it, Elena was choosing her.

  Not someone stronger.

  Not someone better.

  Just her.

  Ember’s throat felt tight.

  She could barely form the words, barely breathe with how much Elena was looking at her, waiting for an answer she wasn’t sure she could give.

  “No,” she finally whispered. “You’re just saying that to keep my heart. I don’t think you really want me.”

  Elena blinked, tilting her head slightly. Then, after a moment, she smiled.

  Softly. Gently. Like she had all the time in the world to make Ember understand.

  She lifted her head from Ember’s shoulder, her golden eyes shining in the dim light. “I only want you.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “Just you. Not someone fancy. Not someone better. You, Ember.”

  Ember inhaled sharply, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might break through her ribs.

  Elena reached forward, brushing away a stray tear that had trailed down Ember’s cheek. “And I’ve wanted you for a long time, too.”

  Ember swallowed. “How long?”

  Elena smiled again, this time a little teasing. “Ever since you were with me at Whispering Lake.”

  Ember gave her a look, knowing full well that was just a joke. “Liar.”

  Elena laughed softly but then sobered. “I cried for five nights when you left Iorph.”

  Ember froze.

  The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The weight of those words settled deep in her chest, pressing against something she had buried for too long.

  She lowered her head, guilt flooding through her. “I’m… sorry about that.”

  Elena reached for her hand again, lacing their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her skin was warm, grounding Ember in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

  “So?” Elena asked, tilting her head slightly. “Are we a couple now?”

  Ember looked at her, her lips parting slightly, unsure of how to answer.

  Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

  “I guess so.”

  Elena immediately pouted, squeezing her hand. “I don’t want this behavior from you,” she complained. “I want you to be happy, not sad!”

  Ember huffed out a small, breathy laugh, her shoulders relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever.

  And for the first time in a long time—really, truly—she smiled.

  Ember’s smile didn’t last long.

  Because, of course, there was one thing still clawing at the back of her mind.

  Her eyes flickered down to Elena’s hand, still holding hers, then back up to her face. “Alright then,” she murmured, voice low. “Now tell me—what was Kaelen doing in our hut?”

  Elena blinked. “Huh?”

  Ember’s red eyes narrowed slightly. “Earlier. When I came back and saw him cornering you.” She leaned back slightly, arms crossing. “I shut the door and left, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it the entire time.”

  Elena groaned, letting her head fall against Ember’s shoulder again. “I knew you’d bring this up.”

  Ember scoffed. “Of course I would.”

  Elena sighed dramatically before pulling away and facing her again. “He was just being Kaelen.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Ember’s expression didn’t change, her gaze steady and unreadable.

  Elena hesitated before huffing out a small laugh. “Okay, fine. He was teasing me about you.”

  Ember frowned. “Teasing?”

  Elena nodded, looking amused. “Yeah. He was saying how it was obvious I liked you, but I was being stupid about it.”

  Ember raised an eyebrow. “And?”

  Elena shrugged. “And I was also being stupid about it.”

  Ember stared at her for a long moment before clicking her tongue. “Tch. I should’ve slammed that door harder.”

  Elena giggled, reaching out to poke Ember’s cheek. “Jealous?”

  Ember grabbed her hand before she could poke her again, giving her a warning glare. “No. I just don’t like people getting too close to you.”

  Elena smirked. “That’s jealousy.”

  “It’s not.”

  “It is.”

  Ember sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re insufferable.”

  Elena grinned. “And you like me anyway.”

  Ember looked at her for a long moment before exhaling. “Yeah.”

  Elena blinked at the soft admission.

  And when Ember’s fingers squeezed hers just a little tighter, Elena knew—knew that no matter how stubborn or guarded Ember was, she wasn’t going to run away this time.