“No, Fire.” His voice cuts through the air, sharp with certainty. “You were brave. You tried to save her. You’ve faced the dragonmore than once now andlived.”
My lips tremble. I bite them to stop the tears from welling in my eyes.
“That scar doesn’t mean what you think it does,” he says. “You’re the one who’s fire-forged, not me. Not broken, just… tempered. Like steel.”
I stare at him, stunned. No one has ever said that before. No one has ever dared.
The spring’s heat rises around us, clinging to my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his words. For a moment, I let myself believe them.
He still doesn’t turn, but his head shifts to the side, averting his eyes as if waiting for my permission.
“About what happened,” he says gently. “Outside the pool—”
My throat closes.
“I think our clothes are dry,” I say, cutting him off.
He starts to turn. “Fire—”
“No. Stay there until I say.” My voice is soft but firm.
A command. I just gave the king a command.
I glance back at him, unsure if he’ll obey.
To my absolute shock, he does, sighing and sinking deeper into the water.
As soon as I’m sure he won’t turn, I wade out and dress slowly, piece by piece. My shirt is stiff and warm when I pull it over my head, but miraculously, itisdry. So are my pants, though the fabric clings slightly where the mist still lingers on my skin. But even the warmest clothes couldn’t chase away the chill that clings to me.
It isn’t the kind born of cold, but something deeper, restless and raw, a storm gathering in the pit of my stomach. There’s too much swirling inside me now—truths I didn’t expect, stories Ihaven’t asked for, and the way his voice still lingers in the air like smoke I can’t seem to breathe around.
I pull my sleeves tight and face the wall. Taking a breath to steel myself, I call over my shoulder, “I’m dressed.”
The silence stretches for a heartbeat, then I hear the soft splash of water as he climbs from the spring and the steady rhythm of boots against stone. The faint rustle of cloth is followed by the slow tug of fabric being pulled into place. Each sound feels louder in the quiet, each breath between them heavier.
I keep my gaze forward even as the warmth from the spring fades entirely. I tell myself it’s fine. That I’m fine.
But then I feel him. Not his touch, not yet. Just the certainty of his presence. He doesn’t announce himself. He doesn’t need to.
“Give me his name,” he growls, his voice just inches from my back, “and he’ll be ash by sunrise.”
I turn slowly.
Keiren stands before me, dressed as if in a hurry, his hair damp and tousled, the buttons of his shirt undone, exposing his muscled torso, his face carved from shadows and restraint. Scars still peek from beneath his shirt like cracks in a statue that refused to break. There’s no mockery in his tone, no cruelty in his gaze.
Only quiet fury, barely bridled.For me.
My breath catches. “You’d have a man killed for something that happened years ago?”
His gaze darkens. “Without question,” he hisses. He rakes a hand through his hair, revealing a wave of dark curls at the ends, still wet from the spring. His jaw clenches as he lifts his hand and brushes a single knuckle along my jawline. The touch is featherlight. Reverent.Dangerous.My skin sparks beneath it.
“I’d hunt him to the ends of the earth if that’s what it took. Any man who dares to hurt a woman doesn’t deserve to live. Especially if that woman is you.”
I don’t look away.
His gaze drops to my right hand, and I feel it before I see it. The burn. The pulse. The faint flicker of heat beneath my skin. He sees it too. His brow furrows.
“Our bargain,” I whisper. “I’m ready to fulfill it.”
