---
Nathaniel's breathing was uneven, his skin damp with fever. Zalria dipped the cloth into cold water again and pressed it gently against his forehead.
"You're burning up," she whispered, brushing his hair from his face.
Lyrian stood silently by the door, his fists clenched. Guilt gnawed at him. "He'll be fine… right?"
Zalria didn't answer at first. "He pushed himself too hard. He can't keep up with… all this."
"We need to find answers," Lyra said, her voice soft but firm as she stepped forward. "This city—this realm—it holds secrets. Ones that could help him. And you."
Zalria stood. "Then I'll come with you."
Lyra gave a small nod but glanced at Lyrian. "I'll need someone who understands demon markings. Some of the places here don't allow outsiders without… a presence."
"I'll go," Lyrian said without thinking.
Zalria's breath caught.
She looked at him. "But I—"
"I'll be quick," he cut in. "Just in case she needs help."Her lips parted, but she said nothing. Deep inside, something tightened. Something heavy.
***
They moved through the streets in silence at first, the market alive with whispers and magic. Light from glowing orbs danced along the cobbled road. Creatures of all kinds wandered freely—fae, elves, vampires, and beings Lyrian couldn't even name.
Lyra led him deeper into the city, into the heart of it—where the crowd thinned, and the stone paths turned crystal-blue.
"This is the old district," she explained, her cloak brushing the ground. "Abandoned by most, but filled with old knowledge."
They walked side by side in silence, their steps echoing. Lyrian glanced at her. The way the moonlight caught her raven hair… how her green eyes sparkled when she spoke of ancient things.
He hated how his chest tightened when she laughed.
"You seem quiet," she said suddenly.
"I have things on my mind," he muttered.
"Like how your friend Zalria looked at me before we left?" she teased gently.
He looked at her, startled, but she only smiled.
"I'm kidding," she added, brushing her fingers along a stone wall etched with runes. "Mostly."
They reached a clearing—a pool of still water surrounded by glowing crystal shards. Lyra knelt by the water, dipping her fingers into it."This is where memories are stored," she said. "They say if two souls are tangled by fate, the water reacts."
Lyrian stared into the pool. It shimmered. He knelt beside her, close enough to feel the warmth from her arm.
"What do you see?" she whispered.
"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "But… I feel something."
Their hands brushed as they both reached for a small glowing stone.
His fingers lingered.
Her breath hitched.
They looked up at the same time—and in that suspended moment, neither could speak.
The tension pulled tight like a bowstring.
Then—without a word—their lips met.
It wasn't careful. It wasn't planned. It was sudden, breathless, and raw.
He pressed closer, her hand resting on his cheek. His heart pounded in his ears, her scent wrapped around him like a drug. The kiss deepened, slow and burning. For a few precious seconds, the world didn't exist.
Then, it ended—both breathless, both wide-eyed.
They pulled apart, realizing what they had just done.
"I…" Lyrian started.
Lyra shook her head. "Don't. It happened."
Neither said more.
***
When they returned to the inn, the air felt heavier than before.
Zalria looked up as they stepped in, her eyes sharp.
Lyrian couldn't meet her gaze. Lyra acted calm, too calm.
But Zalria… felt something.A pulse.
A tremble under her skin.
She touched her wrist. It was glowing faintly. Her body felt warm, tingling with unspoken energy.
Her magic was stirring.
And when Lyrian finally looked at her and smiled… she knew.
Something had changed.
Her chest ached. But she forced a smile.
"Did you find anything helpful?" she asked.
"Just… ruins," Lyrian replied too casually.
And her new gift surged. Her soul flared in response.
He was lying.
She stood frozen, the truth screaming inside her. But instead, she simply nodded.
"Good," she whispered.
And walked away.
She wasn't ready.
But her power was
---