I don’t mean to, but my feet carry me farther than intended. Past the gardens, through the palace gates, along the winding paths. The air grows cooler, heavier with the scent of water.
I come to a stop when I seethecave.
Smaller than in my dreams, but unmistakable. Half-hidden by jagged stone, tucked at the lake’s edge, untouched by time. Breathing becomes harder with every heartbeat. My nails dig into my palms at my sides.
As I step closer, a sharp, vivid image flashes in my mind. A memory that isn’t mine. Or is it? I don’t know anymore.
Her laughter, soft and breathless. Her hand tangled in my tunic, pulling me closer. My own hand cupping her jaw, pushing her back against the cave wall. Her lips on mine, laughing against my mouth as if she can’t quite stop smiling long enough to kiss me properly.
I stumble back, knees nearly giving, heart hammering. The ghost of that kiss lingers on my lips. But I’ve never touched her like that. Never even kissed her. Never held her close in such…intimacy.
Yet, it feels as though I have. As though her laughter, her lips, the cave itself, all bear witness to something I can’t name.
Helplessness rises, bitter and thick. I crouch at the water’s edge, staring at the cave’s reflection.
Why is this happening to me?
I tear my gaze away, dragging in a breath that feels heavier than armor. Tomorrow is the ball. I’ll finally see her again. And if she isn’t there, I will go find her myself.
The rest of the day drifts by in a blur. My mind floats somewhere between exhaustion and the pull of the cave, between reality and the pull of the impossible dreams. I spend hours in the training yard again, combining my swordwork with magic, light spilling from my palms.
My thoughts circle relentlessly back to her. Each night, these moments in the dreams…they feel like real time with her, progressing a connection that isn’t mine to claim. And yet, my longing for her only grows stronger with each passing night.
There is something in the dreams, something in the way my heart pounds at the sound of her voice, that makes it impossible to deny my feelings have grown—wild and unrestrained. I’m falling for her. Helplessly. Irrationally. The thought of it terrifies me because she doesn’t see me as anything more than just a champion in these trials. She said so herself. Her words from that day echo in my head, and the ache behind my ribs grows sharper and more unforgiving.
I’m in love with someone who doesn’t see me the way I see her, and it’s like I’m standing in the dark, waiting for a light that might never come.
After training alone, I go back to my chambers. Dinnertime comes, but I skip it. I’m not interested in being around others. I take a bath to soothe my muscles, warm water tracing tired lines across my skin. When I approach my bed, I hesitate once again.
Do I want to sleep tonight?
Each night brings me to her, and each night leaves me more hollow than the last. But the pull is magnetic and irresistible. I know the moment I close my eyes, I’ll be back with her, living stolen moments that feel so unbearably real.
I lie down slowly, letting the sheets settle over me. Another dream awaits. I go to it willingly.
Because she is there.
Chapter 33
?---- Kallan (Flashback) ----?
I stir from sleep, the warmth of dreams still clinging to my mind…until I feel the brush of fingers against my brow. My eyes blink open to find Serenya leaning over me, her fingertips gently moving a strand of hair from my face.
The moonlight frames her like something out of a fae tale, silver reflecting off her white hair and catching on the pale shimmer of her night cloak. Her expression is softer than usual, as if she didn’t mean to wake me, only to look.
I smile sleepily. “You’re in my room, love.”
A mischievous sparkle flickers in her eyes. “I noticed.”
I reach up, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Usually, I’m the one sneaking into yours.”
“Well,” she says, straightening up and folding her arms as if she hasn’t just been caught watching me sleep, “I thought I’d return the favor.”
I stretch, the blanket falling away to reveal my bare chest and the faint lines of old training scars across my stomach. I’m not exactly subtle about it.
Serenya’s eyes dip, lingering on my chest.
I grin. “You’re staring, Renya.”
