The fight with the Silver Fangs had been brutal.
Kael made it back to the safe house just before dawn, every step sending pain through his ribs. Blood soaked through his shirt from at least three different wounds.
He'd won. Killed their leader, scattered their gang. Another piece of Julian's network destroyed.
But victory had a price.
He stumbled through the door, barely managing to close it behind him before his legs gave out. He caught himself on the wall, breathing hard.
"Kael?"
Lyra appeared from the back room, still in her nightclothes. Her eyes went wide when she saw him.
"Gods, what happened?"
"Silver Fangs. More of them than we thought." He tried to smile. "But I got them."
"You're bleeding everywhere." She was at his side instantly, her hands hovering like she didn't know where to touch without causing pain. "Come on. Sit down before you fall down."
She guided him to a chair, and Kael collapsed into it gratefully.
"Let me see," Lyra said, reaching for his shirt.
"I'm fine—"
"You're not fine. You're dripping blood on my floor." She started unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers quick and efficient. "Stop being stubborn and let me help."
Kael didn't have the energy to argue. He sat still as Lyra peeled the blood-soaked fabric away.
She hissed when she saw the damage. "Three stab wounds. One looks deep. Why didn't you come back sooner?"
"Had to make sure they were all dead."
"Of course you did." She fetched water and clean cloth, kneeling in front of him. "This is going to hurt."
"Everything already hurts."
"Fair point." She pressed the wet cloth to the worst wound, just below his ribs.
Kael grunted, his hands gripping the chair arms.
"Sorry," Lyra murmured, her touch gentling. "I need to clean it properly or it'll get infected."
She worked methodically, washing away blood to reveal the extent of the damage. Her fingers were careful, professional, but Kael was acutely aware of every touch.
"You're lucky," she said after a moment. "None of them hit anything vital. You'll be sore for a week, but you'll live."
"Good to know."
"Hold this." She pressed a clean cloth to the deepest wound. "Keep pressure on it while I get the bandages."
Kael held the cloth, watching her move around the room gathering supplies. She'd thrown a robe on over her nightgown, but it was thin silk that left little to imagination. Her hair was loose, falling past her shoulders.
He forced himself to look away.
"Okay," Lyra said, returning with bandages and a bottle of something that smelled strong. "This part's really going to hurt. It's alcohol. It'll clean the wound but—"
"Just do it," Kael said.
She poured the liquid directly onto the deepest wound.
Fire erupted across Kael's side. He bit down on a curse, his whole body going rigid.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Lyra said quickly, her hand on his chest as if to steady him. "Just breathe. It's almost done."
Kael focused on breathing. On the feel of her hand, warm against his skin.
The burning faded to a throb.
"Done," Lyra said softly. "The worst is over."
She began wrapping bandages around his torso, which meant she had to lean close, her arms reaching around him. Kael tried not to notice how near she was, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her breath against his neck.
"So," Lyra said quietly as she worked, "want to tell me why you went after the Silver Fangs alone?"
"You were asleep."
"That's not an answer."
Kael was quiet for a moment. "I didn't want you getting hurt."
Her hands paused. "Kael, I can handle myself."
"I know. But that doesn't mean I want to risk it."
"Why?" She pulled back slightly to look at him. "We're partners. Equal risk, equal reward. That was the deal."
"The deal changed," Kael said.
"When?"
"When I kissed you. When you became more than just an ally."
Lyra's expression softened. "You can't protect me by shutting me out."
"I can try."
"And get yourself killed in the process." She resumed wrapping the bandages, her movements gentle. "I don't need protecting, Kael. I need you to trust me."
"I do trust you."
"Then prove it. Next time, wake me up. We fight together or we don't fight at all."
"That's not—"
"Non-negotiable," Lyra cut him off firmly. She tied off the bandage, her fingers lingering on his skin. "I mean it. If you get yourself killed trying to be noble, I'll find a way to bring you back just so I can kill you myself."
Despite the pain, Kael smiled. "Understood."
"Good." She sat back, examining her work. "That should hold. Try not to do anything stupid for at least a few days."
"No promises."
"Of course not." She started to stand, but Kael caught her hand.
"Thank you," he said. "For this. For putting up with me."
Lyra looked down at him, something unreadable in her expression. "You're welcome."
They stayed like that for a moment, her standing, him sitting, hands joined.
Then Lyra leaned down and kissed him, soft and careful, mindful of his injuries.
"Get some rest," she murmured against his lips. "You look terrible."
"You sure know how to make a man feel special."
"It's a gift." She pulled away with a small smile. "Come on. Let's get you to bed. You can barely sit up."
She helped him stand, supporting his weight as they made their way to his room. Kael was more tired than he'd realized. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving only exhaustion.
Lyra helped him onto the bed, then started to leave.
"Stay," Kael said.
She paused. "Kael—"
"Just for a while. Until I fall asleep. I don't..." He trailed off, not sure how to explain the sudden reluctance to be alone.
Lyra's expression softened. "Move over."
She climbed onto the bed beside him, careful not to jostle his injuries. Kael turned on his side to face her, and she mirrored the position.
"Better?" she asked.
"Yeah."
They lay there in the growing dawn light, not quite touching but close enough to feel each other's warmth.
"Next time," Lyra said quietly, "I'm coming with you. Even if I have to follow you."
"You would too."
"Absolutely." Her hand found his under the blanket, their fingers intertwining. "We're in this together, Kael. All of it. The good, the bad, and the bloody."
"Together," Kael agreed.
His eyes were getting heavy. The warmth of the bed, Lyra's presence beside him, the exhaustion—it all pulled him toward sleep.
"Rest," Lyra whispered. "I'll keep watch."
"You don't have to—"
"I know. But I'm going to anyway."
Kael wanted to argue, but sleep was already claiming him. The last thing he was aware of was Lyra's thumb tracing small circles on his hand, a gesture that felt like a promise.
When he woke hours later, the sun was high and Lyra was gone. But there was a note on the bedside table in her neat handwriting.
*Had to run errands. There's food in the kitchen. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. And no, going after Julian alone doesn't count as "not stupid." - L*
Below that, almost like she'd hesitated before adding it:
*I'm glad you came back.*
Kael folded the note carefully, tucking it into his journal of memories.
Some things were too important to forget.
Even if the sword tried to take them.
* * *
END OF CHAPTER 25