Thank all the gods for Ronyn’s impeccable timing for once.
“Let’s go to Galreth. I know a place,” Therion states.
The promise of a full belly and a crisp ale is enough to make me move my sore and still-healing body. I nod eagerly, “Gods yes, let’s go.”
Kael’s heated gaze is still lingering on me, a muscle in his jaw ticking, as if he’s holding back the words dying to spill from his lips, and although I know I should not let this—him—distract me, I cannot deny that I like his attention. A lot. And gods, itisfucking distracting.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
KAEL
The mountain airis thin but crisp, carrying with it the strong scent of pine and stone. The path away from the temple winds sharply along the edge of Mount Lyssar, the cliffs plunging into a chasm of mist far below. Sunlight spills across the trail, glinting off the jagged rocks, the warmth on my back at odds with the cold shadow still lodged in my chest.
The others are quiet, their exhaustion palpable. Therion leads the way, his axe slung across his back, every step deliberate. Ronyn lingers near the middle, his bow strung and ready, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. Seren walks beside him, her wide gaze flitting over every detail of the trail as if the mountain itself might whisper secrets. Elyssara brings up the rear, her pace steady but guarded, as though the temple’s weight still clings to her.
I hold to the back, my steps purposeful. Or so I tell myself. In truth, I’m here because of her. Not because of her magic or the prophecy, but because of the way she pulls at me. The way she fills the spaces I’ve spent years trying to keep empty.
We walk in light conversation for several hours, the group weaving between banter and silence as the trail shifts from rugged mountain paths to softer, forested terrain. The valley below comesinto clearer view, Galreth nestled within like a secret the mountain keeps close. Smoke curls from chimneys, promising warmth, and the faint scent of earth after the storm lingers in the air.
But my thoughts remain here.With her.
Elyssara walks just ahead of me, her auburn hair catching the sunlight, the loose waves ripped free from her braid cascading over her shoulders like molten fire. Dirt streaks her face, a smudge just beneath her sharp cheekbone, but it doesn’t diminish her beauty. If anything, it sharpens it. She’s stunning—strong and lethal, with a presence that commands attention. Her jade-green eyes flicker between wariness and resolve, and there’s a faint glow to her Lightborne marking that peeks out from her tunic. Every step she takes is measured, every movement purposeful, but there’s an unconscious grace to her, a natural magnetism that I can’t ignore.
And gods help me, I’ve tried.
The Starforged Blade is strapped to her thigh, its hilt glinting faintly in the sunlight. My gaze lingers there too long, the blade a poor distraction from the thigh it’s bound to.Gods those thighs.Those fucking thighs.The sheer volume of debased thoughts I’ve had about those pretty little thighs, about what it would feel like to be buried between them, is nothing short of indecent. She’s the most dangerous thing I’ve ever encountered—not because of her power, but because of the way she makes me want. I am hungry for her, and I want tofeast.
I catch myself staring again as she brushes a strand of hair from her face, her fingers grazing her lips. My breath hitches. Those lips—sensuous and inviting despite being chapped and stained with the faintest trace of blood—are a distraction I don’t need. The way they curve when she smiles, the way they part when she’s lost in thought, the way she sucks on her bottom lip when she’s ready to fight. The way they’d look wrapped around my cock. I want to taste those beautiful lips. I want to taste all of her—her lips, her neck, whatever she’ll let me have.
I’m so fucked.
I curse under my breath, dragging my focus to the trail. I’m a fool. A godsdamned fool. And yet, even as I force my gaze forward,I feel her pulling me back. It’s not her magic—not yet, anyway—but something far older, far more dangerous. It’s a tether I can’t see, but I feel it tightening and tugging at my chest with every step.
The path dips, leveling out as the rugged peaks of the mountain give way to gentler slopes. The village grows nearer, its stone buildings nestled together as though sharing warmth. The sun is high now, its light catching on the cobbled streets of Galreth, but even as the promise of food and rest draws the others forward, I feel stuck in the shadows of my own mind.
Elyssara slows her pace, and my steps falter in response. She doesn’t notice me watching, focusing on the trail ahead, but her presence fills the silence between us. She tucks a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, her lips parting slightly as though tasting the air, and my chest tightens in response.
I don’t know what it is about her that does this to me. Maybe it’s the way she carries herself, like she’s lived a thousand battles and is still ready for more. Or maybe it’s the way she makes me feel seen—too seen. As though she can peel away the layers I’ve spent years building.
I can’t afford to feel this way. Not now. Not ever.
The temple had dragged me back to that night in The Shadow Wastes, to the moment the guards tore my sister from my arms. The illusion of Nalya haunts me—the way her screams twisted into Elyssara’s. Her face, her fear, all bleeding together until I couldn’t tell who I was trying to save. I’d clawed at reality, trying to reach for her.For them. To save them.
But I couldn’t. I never could.
The vision wasn’t real, but its echo is. It claws at me, threatening to unravel the control I’ve fought so hard to maintain. Control I can’t lose—not now, not with her.
The others’ voices drift back to us, lighter now as they banter about the warmth of the tavern ahead. Elyssara glances over her shoulder, her green eyes catching mine, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. There’s something raw in her gaze, something unspoken. It’s not an invitation, but it’s close enough to break me.
Her lips twitch, as though she’s about to say something, but sheturns away, her pace quickening. The moment passes, but it leaves me reeling.
I don’t know if she feels this pull between us, but I know I can’t let her see how it’s unraveling me. Whatever this is, it’s too dangerous. For her. For me. For all of us.
The prophecy may bind us together on this journey, but I can’t let it control me. Not when I still have a choice. Not when the plan is already in place.
The others move ahead, the promise of Galreth pulling them forward, but Elyssara lingers behind. My steps fall in sync with hers, the tension between us stretching taut, and I feel the weight of every unsaid word pressing against my chest.
I’ll fight it. Whatever this pull is, whatever it means, I’ll fight it. Because giving in to her would mean giving up everything else. Everything I’ve fought for, everything I’ve sacrificed. Even if it kills me.
