But the words are lost, scattered in the surge of everything I feel. This strange ache, this burning gravity—it keeps pulling me back to him, again and again. He’s right here, real and raw and wrecked. And something inside me knows I’ll never forgive myself if I let him walk away. Something in me gives, and I close the distance between us.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It isn’t careful. It’s pure need—raw and aching. My hands slide into his thick hair as I press closer, and for one wild heartbeat, I wonder if he’ll stop me.
He doesn’t.
Keiren’s arms come around me, shattering the last of the distance between us, and I surrender—to the strength of his embrace, to the way one hand settles at my back, steady and sure, while the other threads through my hair.
I tilt my head back, offering him better access, and he deepens the kiss. The world narrows.
Heat. Breath.
His scent surrounds me—cedar and rain, smoke and spring water. Ancient. Wild. Him.
A soft sound slips from me as he draws me closer, until there’s no space left to retreat into.
I open for him, and when his mouth moves against mine, he groans low in his throat.
We fall into it like flame meeting air—sudden, inevitable.
The cave dissolves.
When we finally part, we’re breathless, foreheads pressed together, chests rising and falling in an uneven rhythm.
“Please,” I whisper. “Don’t leave me.”
He rests his forehead against mine. His breath is warm. Steady.
“Never,” he murmurs.
I smile—soft, unguarded—and don’t let go.
He kisses me again, slower this time, as if memorizing the shape of my mouth rather than claiming it.I savor the taste of him, the warmth, the quiet promise in the way he lingers.
Then his lips leave mine and find my forehead instead—gentle, unhurried, reverent.
Without another word, he lifts me into his arms and carries me back toward the fire, toward the bed he made for us. I curl into his chest, and we lie together beside the flames. The storm rages on outside—but here in his arms, I am held.
Here I am safe.
Chapter 25
New Dawn
When I wake, the first thing I notice is the silence. No steady breath, no warmth pressed against my back, just the soft drip of water echoing from somewhere deep in the cavern. I reach out, my fingers instinctively searching for the body that held me through the night, but my hand finds only cold stone.
The blankets are rumpled, leaving only the slight hollow where he lay.
I roll onto my side. Disoriented, I blink up at the dim shaft of morning light filtering through the skylight above. It scatters across the spring, making the mist shimmer like ghost-light. The fire has burned down to glowing coals, half-buried in ash.The scent of him lingers faintly, still soaked into the moss, still braided into the memory of his arms around me.
My chest tightens. He’s gone. And with him, the soft magic of the night begins to unravel like thread in my hands.
Panic coils low in my stomach. What if he left to find the dragon? To command it to burn Solmere to the ground, just to destroy what’s left of Edric or my father? What if last night was just a ruse for his revenge?
I sit up too fast. My breath comes sharp and shallow. What if I was wrong to trust him?
Then I see it. Nestled beside me on the stone, still glistening with morning dew, is a small bouquet. Sunflowers, their golden faces angled toward the light. Lily of the valley, tiny white bells nodding in delicate clusters. And a single blossom of edelweiss, pale and fierce as snow.
And, tucked between the stems, a folded note, sealed with a pressed freesia petal.
