The next morning, the wind changed.
Lyra felt it before she opened her eyes—an invisible shift in the current of the leyline beneath her cave. The ground didn't tremble, but her magic did.
She sat up fast, breath tight.
Someone had touched the wards.
Not Kael. Not a wild beast.
Something... colder.
She slid off the stone ledge where she'd been resting and crossed toward the cave entrance. Outside, the horizon was still bathed in soft gray light. Her moon—quiet and long-forgotten—should have been untouched.
But now, in the distance, a pulse of black smoke spiraled upward.
Unnatural. Controlled.
A signal.
Behind her, Kael stirred.
"You feel it too?" he asked, voice low.
She turned. He stood shirtless again—barefoot, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"I buried the crash site under layers of dust and illusion," she muttered. "Nothing should have found us."
Kael's expression didn't change. "Then someone came looking."
Lyra's lips tightened. "For you or me?"
"Does it matter?" he said.
Maybe it didn't.
Because whoever sent that signal... was coming fast.
They moved quickly.
Lyra reinforced the outer wards with trembling fingers. Her magic was still recovering from the night she healed Kael. But she refused to let that show.
Kael, meanwhile, watched her closely. He hadn't asked for her help, but he hadn't offered to leave, either.
"What do you think it is?" she asked, not looking at him.
He was quiet for a moment. Then:
"There's a creature used by the Empire," he said slowly. "It hunts with scent and shadow. It doesn't speak. It doesn't sleep. It only knows one thing."
Lyra glanced at him. "What?"
Kael's voice was grim. "The taste of fear."
They didn't have to wait long.
By midday, the cave shadows had grown unnaturally dark. The sun outside was still bright, but the air inside thickened, like mist curling around unseen corners.
Then—a shriek.
Not from any beast Lyra had ever heard.
It echoed through the stone like a knife sliding across bone.
Lyra reached for her staff. Kael didn't move. He simply watched the shadows with glowing gold eyes, his jaw clenched.
A sound—a whisper, not a voice—slithered into the cavern. Something that wasn't quite words, but still pressed against their minds.
"Witch… Devil…"
"Found you."
Kael stepped in front of her without a word.
Lyra blinked. "What are you doing?"
"I've fought them before," he said, low. "They hunt through connection. They need to sense fear, or desire, or pain. It's how they track their prey."
"And?"
He glanced at her, something dangerous and amused in his voice.
"You're the only thing I've felt since I crashed. They'll come for you first."
She rolled her eyes. "So your grand strategy is to make yourself bait?"
"No," he said. "My strategy is to make sure they don't lay a finger on you."
Before she could respond, the cave mouth exploded inward.
Dust, stone, and flame burst into the air as a dark figure launched through the shield.
Lyra raised her hands, summoning a wall of magical force.
But she didn't need to.
Because Kael was already moving.
He didn't roar. Didn't shout.
He simply unleashed.
From his spine, flame cracked into life—red and violet hellfire spilling down his arms like serpents. His hands twisted, claws forming at his fingertips. The markings across his chest blazed like molten veins.
And his eyes—
Stars, his eyes—
They weren't just golden.
They were divine rage.
The creature from the dark was made of shadow and teeth, coiling like smoke and bone. But when Kael struck, it screamed in something like pain—or fury. Or both.
One swipe of his arm, and fire consumed the thing.
It thrashed, shrieked, and vanished into a whirling cloud of black ash.
Silence followed.
Kael stood still, chest heaving, flames licking his skin.
Then he turned to her.
Lyra hadn't moved.
She was staring at him, wide-eyed. Not with fear.
But with something else entirely.
Awe. Shock.
And something low and hot in her gut she couldn't name.
Kael stepped closer, voice rough. "You alright?"
She nodded once. "You didn't need my help."
He gave a half-smile. "Doesn't mean I didn't want it."
The cave was quiet again. Too quiet.
But her heart still pounded like war drums in her chest.
She didn't know what scared her more—
The creature that found them.
Or the man who burned it to nothing.
That night, they didn't speak much.
Kael sat near the entrance, watching the stars like they'd betrayed him. Lyra tended to her crystals and sigils in silence, but her fingers moved slower than usual.
She kept glancing back at him.
At the golden glow that still shimmered faintly in his skin.
At the way he'd stepped in front of her.
At the way her magic had responded to him without question.
He had protected her like it was instinct.
Like he'd always done it.
And that terrified her more than anything else.
Because Lyra didn't want to be protected.
She wanted to be untouched. Unseen.
Unwanted.
But the devil prince wasn't letting her have that.
Not anymore.