The frostlight flared dangerously around Kaelith’s wrist. I stepped between them before he could speak. “Enough! Both of you!” I shouted.
For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of our breathing—the quiet crackle of settling ice. Then, from the shadows ahead, came the soft, hungry sound of frost shifting.
Dozens of pale eyes opened in the dark.
The eyes in the dark blinked—one pair, then another—until the cavern shimmered with their pale glow. The Frostwraiths had followed us through the break in the ice, their shapes coiling along the walls like living smoke.
Kael stepped in front of me, gold light spilling from his blade. “I count nine,” he murmured.
“Ten,” Kaelith corrected. “You missed the one in that crevice.”
Kael flashed a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “I rely on you for the pessimism.”
The air between them snapped colder, heat and frost brushing together like opposing currents. I couldfeeltheir tension—part fury, part something else entirely.
“Kaelith,” I whispered, “we need to move—”
“Stay behind me,” both brothers said at once.They glared at each other, the absurdity almost enough to make me laugh.
A hiss cut through the dark. The wraiths surged. Kael met them first, every strike bright and reckless, his laughter echoing off the wintry walls like sunlight in a place that had never known warmth. Kaelith fought beside him in silence, every blow efficient, merciless. Their movements formed a brutal rhythm—opposites that shouldn’t have worked but somehow did.
One wraith broke through their defense and lunged for me. I swung the dagger Kael had pressed into my hand earlier, more instinct than skill. The blade passed through the creature, scattering it like mist.
Kael glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “Nicely done, little flame.”
Kaelith cut another wraith down and shot him a look sharp enough to draw blood. “Stop flirting and focus.”
“Iamfocused,” Kael replied, parrying a strike. “Just not where you want.”
Kaelith’s jaw tightened. The frostlight around him pulsed dangerously, cracks spidering through the floor beneath his boots. “You always did mistake chaos for charm.”
“And you always did mistake silence for strength.”
“Better silence than stupidity.”
“Better stupidity than a heart made of ice.”
“Seriously?!” I shouted, but neither seemed to hear me.
The cavern trembled. A blast of wind ripped through, scattering snow and shadow alike. Kaelith’s blade caught the light, and for an instant the entire hollow glowed white—too bright, too pure. When the glare faded, every wraith was gone, nothing left but the echo of their screams.
Kael lowered his sword, chest rising and falling fast. “Well,” he panted, “that was romantic.”
Kaelith turned on him. “If you ever endanger her again—”
Kael wiped a smear of frost from his cheek. “Endanger? I just saved her.”
“I was already protecting her.”
“From what? Breathing too close?”
Their voices clashed again, heat against frost. I stepped forward, shoving a hand between them. “Stop it! You’re brothers!”
Kaelith’s breath came hard. “He forgets what that means.”
Kael smiled faintly, though his eyes had cooled. “Maybe I remember too well.”
Silence. Then Kael’s hand brushed my sleeve as he stepped past me. “You’re freezing,” he murmured, almost tender. “Come closer to the light before you turn to ice.”
