He let fury guide his steps, the betrayal burning like a second sun.
Kael marched with lethal intent through the lower city — merchants barely glanced his way, sensing something wild and wrong in his gait. Past guards who dared not stop him.
As he rounded the last corner he found Zairon waited for him at the outer gates — draped in deep blue. He held no smile, golden eyes heavy with judgment.
Kael slowed only enough to meet the other male’s gaze.
“Move Zairon,” Kael growled.
Zairon’s voice was ice. “You need to think about what you're doing Kael.”
Kael stepped closer. “She’s mine.”
“She was never a possession,” Zairon snapped, stepping in front of the gate.
Kael’s jaw tightened, shadows billowing. His thoughts snapping to Maris pressed against a king with centuries of schemes behind his soft voice and saint’s face.
The bastards friend had the gall to stand in his path like he was the protector now.
Kael stepped closer, shadows rippling off his back like torn wings. “I will not be kept from her.”
Zairon didn’t flinch. His golden gaze held firm, molten and unwavering.
“You can enter,” he said, voice low. “But only if you swear on your own honor that no harm will come to Maris, no force, no threats, no demands.”
Kael’s breath punched out of him in disbelief. “You think I’d hurt her?”
Zairon’s eyes didn’t soften. “I think you’re hurting. And hurt animals lash out.”
Kael snarled. “She’s betrothed.”
“No,” Zairon snapped. “Shewasyour bonded. But you never once let her be. You guarded, and claimed. You call it love, but what kind of love fears her power?”
Kael’s hands balled into fists. The shadows twitched.
Zairon stepped forward now, voice hardened steel drawn from flame. “You will go to her only if you can shut your damn mouth long enough to hear what she wants. If not, youturn around and walk away. Because I will not let you enter these gates just to drag her back with your guilt.”
The words landed like strikes.
Kael’s mind reeled, boiling with everything left unsaid, unacknowledged, undone.
And somewhere beneath it all, shame.
Because Zairon was right.
He had feared her power. Had loved her, yes, but with a leash.
Kael stared at the gates behind the male. Beyond them was everything. Answers. Pain. Her.
He swallowed hard.
“I swear,” he rasped, voice gutted. “No harm. No demands.”
Zairon studied him for a long, brutal beat then stepped aside.
“Then enter, King of Nythra. And may the gods have mercy on whatever’s left of your pride.”
Kael walked past him, each step heavier than the last.
