He scoffs faintly. “I had to save you. Again, I might add.”
I frown. “I was handling it.”
“Sure you were. Trouble follows you around like a long-lost puppy, Fire.”
“It does not!”
“Doesn’t it?” he presses, lips curving into a smirk that looks more like a grimace. “The library? The kraken? And now the direwolves.”
My head snaps up. “Direwolves?”
He nods grimly. “Cursed beasts bred in the Shadowlands. Their bite spreads rot-magic, spores of darkness that travel straight to your heart. It’s slower for someone like me. But for anyone else? It’s fatal within minutes.” His gaze lingers on mine. “So, tell me, Fire… what’s next?”
I grit my teeth. “I seem to recall all of those supposed ‘incidents’ being a direct result of yourstimulatingcompany.”
He gives a hoarse chuckle. “Why can’t you just say thank you?”
“Is that what you want?” I snap, tossing the bloodied cloth aside. “You want me to thank you?”
My voice cracks. I don’t intend it to, but something in me splinters, sharp and sudden.
“Fine,” I whisper bitterly. “Thank you, Your Highness.” I start wrapping the fresh bandage, each word punctuated by a sharp tug. “Thank you for getting yourself cursed. For kidnapping mewith your dragon. For being the reason I’ll never see my sister again.”
Tighten. Pull. Breathe.
“Thank you for ensuring I’ll never grow old beside someone I love. Or bear children. Or publish a book of herbal remedies like my mother always wanted.”
He goes dead still.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I say, now breathing heavily, doing my best to choke back the tears, “for once again delaying my inevitable demise.”
The words leave me hollow, scraped bare—but lighter too, like I’ve finally exhaled after holding my breath for days, weeks, maybe even years. The tears come faster now, hot and silent.
Keiren doesn’t speak. His expression is unreadable. The fire crackles between us, casting his face in flickering gold and shadow.
Then, slowly, he lifts both hands and cups my face. His palms are warm against my cheeks, gentle and steady.
“Fire,” he says, his voice rough with an unfamiliar tenderness. “Youwillhave all those things. And more.” His thumbs brush beneath my eyes, catching the tears before they fall. “I will throw myself in front of every danger again and again. Whatever it takes, I will make that future real for you.”
His gaze holds mine, more intense than ever. His words land like a brand across my skin. My breath stutters. My heart hammers. My hands are still resting on his chest, my fingers curled into the worn fabric of his shirt. His skin is fevered beneath my touch, but I don’t pull away, and neither does he.
The air between us tightens—buzzing with things unsaid. He leans in slightly, just enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath brush my lips.
He’s going to kiss me.
No—he’s just close. Too close.
I swallow hard.
Then… he eases back a fraction. He reaches for his coat, murmuring, “You’re freezing…”
I avert my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re shivering.”
Slow and deliberate, he drapes the coat around my shoulders, the weight of it grounding rather than confining. After a pause, he opens his arms—not pulling, not insisting.
“Come here,” he says softly. An invitation.
