Kael’s jaw clenched as he watched Aerin, the fierce glint in her eyes barely masking the tremor that ran through her. It wasn’t the rain that held Kael’s focus; it was the woman before him, battle-worn and struggling with the weight of loss that neither of them could speak aloud. His chest ached with the urge to pull her close, to shield her from the horror that was about to unfold, but he forced himself to remain rooted, even as every fiber of him screamed to be near her.

  Aerin’s eyes met his, and for a breath, they stood on the precipice of something unspoken, the unyielding tension that had always simmered between them rising to the surface. But they couldn’t—wouldn’t—give in. Her heart was still raw, a wound laid open by Elden’s betrayal, and Kael knew better than to push past the fragile trust that remained. Instead, he held her gaze, his silent promise lingering in the space between them: I’m here. I won’t let you fall.

  In the distance, Talon and Elden carried Mara’s lifeless form away, their expressions hollow and dark, the weight of their grief more palpable than ever. Aerin watched them go, eyes glistening with unshed tears. The pain in Talon’s steps, the hollow way he moved, twisted something deep within her. Mara’s death had carved holes in all of them, but Talon’s loss felt like a shadow that pressed against their very souls.

  Kael took Aerin’s hand and dragged her through the field, the battle had slowed as the king and the priestess vanished.

  The storm still raged, a tempest of thunder and rain that turned the battlefield into a churning sea of blood and mud. Aerin’s back slammed against the jagged stone pillar, the cold biting through her soaked tunic. She didn’t have the strength to push Kael away, even if she wanted to. Not when he stood in front of her like this, eyes blazing, rain streaking down his face, his body radiating the kind of heat that made her forget the chill of the storm.

  His hand slammed into the rock beside her head, his fingers curling like he could crush the stone itself. The other hand gripped her arm, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to keep her rooted. “Why do you do this?” he rasped, his voice raw with something that bordered on fury. “Why do you keep throwing yourself into the fire like your life means nothing?”

  “Because it doesn’t!” she snapped, her voice cracking like the lightning splitting the sky above them. Her chest heaved, every breath a battle. “Don’t you see that, Kael? My life hasn’t meant anything since they burned my family alive!”

  His grip on her arm tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might shout, might break entirely. But when he spoke, his voice dropped into something low, something dangerous. “Don’t you dare say that to me. Don’t you dare. You are my queen. My light. My gods-damned everything, Aerin.”

  She froze, the weight of his words crashing into her harder than any blow she’d taken in battle. The rain blurred her vision, or maybe it was the tears she refused to acknowledge. “Kael—what… Why?”

  “No,” he growled, stepping closer, his chest brushing against hers. His free hand came up to grip her face, his palm rough against her rain-slick skin. “You don’t get to say anything right now. You don’t get to argue or push me away. You think I wouldn’t burn the world for you? That I wouldn’t split the earth in two if it meant keeping you safe?”

  Her breath hitched, her heart pounding so hard it drowned out the thunder. He was too close, his presence overwhelming, suffocating, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. The thread of magic between them thrummed like a second heartbeat, pulling her closer, tangling her in him.

  “Aerin,” he said softly, the sound of her name cutting through the roar of the rain. “You’re reckless out there. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “Reckless?” she snapped, more to shield herself than to counter him. “This is war, Kael. I’m doing what has to be done.”

  “No,” he said, his voice dropping lower, quieter, but with a gravity that pulled at her. “You’re throwing yourself into the fire because you think it’s the only way to burn away the guilt. Mara’s gone. It wasn’t your fault.”

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  Her chest tightened, the ache of grief rising unbidden. “Don’t you dare—”

  “I’m not letting you do this,” he interrupted, stepping closer. The hand that had been gripping his sword came up to cradle her face, his palm rough but grounding against her rain-chilled skin. “Not to yourself. Not to us.”

  The word hung in the air, electric and heavy. Us. She wanted to deny it, to shove him away and charge back into the chaos. But she couldn’t move, trapped between the unyielding stone at her back and the way Kael looked at her—like he was seeing straight into the parts of herself she tried so hard to bury.

  “Kael,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

  “Do you feel it?” he asked, his hand still steady against her cheek. “You’ve been pretending it isn’t there, but I know you feel it. The connection. The thread that ties us together now.”

  She did. She had felt it ever since that night on the boat, when their magic had intertwined, irrevocably binding their souls. It was like a constant hum at the edge of her awareness, his presence brushing against hers no matter how far apart they were. When he was angry, she felt the sharp edge of his frustration. When she was afraid, he steadied her without even realizing it. And now, with him so close, it was like their magic was reaching out, desperate to close the space between them.

  “I feel it,” she admitted, the words trembling on her lips.

  Kael exhaled, his relief palpable. “Then stop running from it.”

  “I’m not—”

  “You are,” he said, cutting her off with a quiet fierceness. “You’re always fighting, always pushing forward because you think that’s all you’re good for. But, Aerin, you’re wrong. You’ve been part of me since that night. And now, you’re the reason I keep fighting. You’re... everything.”

  Her breath hitched, the weight of his words crashing into her like the storm itself. She wanted to argue, to deny the truth that had been building between them for weeks, years even. But she couldn’t. Not anymore.

  “I don’t know how to be this for you,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to... stay.”

  “I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice breaking, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “Not in this war. Not in any way. You’re all I have left, Aerin. Do you understand that?”

  “I—” Her voice faltered, the walls she’d spent years building crumbling beneath the sheer force of his desperation. She hated him for it, hated that he could make her feel so exposed, so raw. “I’m trying to survive. That’s all I’ve ever done.”

  “That’s not enough.” His forehead dropped to hers, his lips so close she could feel his breath, hot and unsteady. “I don’t want you to just survive. I want you to live. I want you to fight for more than revenge. Fight for me. For what we could have.”

  Her heart twisted painfully, her fingers curling into the soaked fabric of his tunic as if she could hold him together while she unraveled. “Kael, I don’t know how to be what you need.”

  “You already are,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers so lightly it was almost nothing, a ghost of a touch that sent fire racing through her veins. “You always have been.”

  She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, she knew. She had always known. The thread of magic that tied them together wasn’t something she could cut, no matter how hard she tried. It was him, his strength, his fire, his gods-damned stubbornness that had kept her from falling apart. It had always been him.

  “I feel it too,” she whispered, the words barely audible over the storm. “I feel you. Every second. Like you’re in my blood.”

  He was the missing piece of her soul.

  The realization hit her like a wave crashing against the shore. All this time, she had been searching, fighting, trying to understand her place in the world, and here, beside her, was the one whose soul had been shaped alongside hers, an image of her in another form. His presence calmed her magic, his gaze grounded her.

  His breath hitched, and for a moment, he was silent, as if her confession had stolen whatever words he had left. Then, with a quiet, broken sound, he leaned in, his lips crashing into hers like the storm itself. It wasn’t soft or sweet or careful. It was raw, desperate, like he was trying to pour every ounce of his soul into her, to remind her that she was still alive, still breathing, still his.

  And gods help her, she kissed him back.

  Kael’s voice was hoarse, raw with the emotion he could no longer keep locked away. “Do you know what it’s like to love someone so much it hurts?”

  Aerin turned away, her arms crossed, but her shoulders trembled. “Kael—”

  “No,” he cut her off, stepping closer. “You don’t get to brush this aside. Not this time. You think I don’t know the weight you carry? The guilt? The anger? I feel it, Aerin. Through the bond, I feel everything. And it kills me that you won’t let me help you carry it.”

  She spun to face him, her eyes blazing. “You think this is easy for me? That I can just—”

  “Yes,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Because I would do anything for you. Anything, Aerin. Do you understand that?”

  Her lip quivered, and Kael’s expression softened. He stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands. “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” he said, his voice breaking. “Let me in. Please.”

  Her tears fell then, and Kael kissed her—not out of passion, but out of a need to say everything he couldn’t put into words. It was desperate and raw, filled with years of longing and heartbreak. When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “I always have. And I always will.”