The doors to Kazriel's private chambers creaked as Aria gently pushed them open. She wasn't supposed to be here.
But she didn't care.
She had to see him.
The room was dim, lit only by a few golden sconces and the flickering hearth. The scent of burning wood and ash lingered—heavy, sharp.
He sat at the edge of the bed, still in his battle-worn coat, elbows on knees, head bowed. Hands bloodied. Knuckles raw.
His gloves lay discarded on the floor, torn and scorched.
"Kazriel..."
His head snapped up.
For a second—just a second—she saw it. The storm behind his eyes falter.
"You shouldn't be here."
His voice was low, ragged. Not cruel—scared. Of her seeing him like this.
"And yet I'm here." She crossed the room, barefoot on marble, her nightgown brushing against her ankles.
"You always come back to me, so I'll always come to you."
He didn't move. Not even when she kneeled in front of him and took his hands.
"Gods, your hands…" she whispered, voice trembling. The burns were deep. Magic-burns. The kind that happened when raw power went unchecked.
"I was angry." He looked away. "I couldn't hold it in."
"You didn't have to." She kissed his knuckles—gently. "Not with me."
He flinched, like her touch hurt more than the flames.
"They spoke about you like you were nothing," he growled. "Like you weren't the woman who bled for them. Who stood by my side without fear. I snapped, Aria. I—"
"And I love you for it." She whispered, laying his hands over her heart. "All of you. The storm, the wrath, the protector. You're not a monster. You're mine."
He looked at her then, truly looked. And whatever armor he'd built shattered in her gaze.
"I'm scared I'll break you."
"Then let me be the one thing you can never destroy."
She rose slowly and pulled him into her arms.
And Kazriel—greatest war mage of the empire, storm-wielder, feared by all—buried his face in her shoulder like a boy lost in the dark.
They sat like that for minutes, maybe hours. The storm outside had passed. But in here—this quiet warmth, this embrace—it felt like safety.
Aria leaned down and whispered:
"Next time… let me hold you sooner."
And Kazriel, still trembling, nodded.
"Next time, I won't make you wait."