Kailorien made a low, satisfied sound as her hands moved along his back. “Feels… good,” he sighed. “Like you’re undoing knots I didn’t know were there.”
“You’re full of them,” she teased, but her voice quavered in excitement—because this was working. This wasright. The runes knew her. They accepted her.
She moved up, hands skimming over Hjarta, then toward Krâthar. Even that one, the brutal strength rune etched like a brand into his shoulder, bent to her touch. Folded. Yielded.
She smiled.
Until her fingers shifted.
Just a breath too far.
She hovered above the base of his neck—just below his hairline.
Vargrún.
The rune was dormant.
But itfelther.
You reach for the sky with burning wings, emberling.
Her blood turned to ice.
How amusing. You seek to tame me? To tame madness?
Her hands paused, frozen above Kailorien’s skin. Mana crackled at her fingertips.
And yet, there is something...soothing...in your touch. A memory long lost. A thing not meant to be.
She couldn’t move, her body stiffening as though the voice had pulled her into a trance. With every word, his voice encroached. Grew louder. Closer.
Your Resh’Agar will break before your fingers find my leash.
Try, little ember. Try.
I will devour you and him BOTH.
Beneath her, Kailorien stirred.
“Auryn?” His voice was sleep-rough and thick with concern. “What is it? You’ve stopped.”
She blinked. The hold on her shattered. The voice vanished. Her hands dropped to his shoulders instead—safe, solid.
“…Nothing,” she whispered, keeping her voice even. “I think we should stop here tonight.”
But her head spun. Too much mana spent too fast. She swayed where she sat. He turned beneath her with slow, liquid grace, reaching for her waist.
“You’re unsteady,” he frowned. “Are you—”
“I’m alright,” she cut in. “Just…dizzy. That’s all.”
He studied her. Silent. Not believing her, but unwilling to push.
She touched his chest, palm flat over the slow rise and fall of his breath. “Do you…ever hear it?” she asked. “The voice? Vargrún’s?”
His eyes went distant, then narrowed. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Perhaps not. It’s been a part of me so long, I can’t always tell where my thoughts end and…hisbegin.”
She looked down at him, heart aching. “He spoke to me.”
