The silence of the room wasn't empty.
It thrummed.
Every breath Kael took seemed to stir the air, tugging faintly at the bond between them—thin, unsettled, but achingly present. Nyra sat in the chair with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped loosely, watching the rise and fall of his chest.
Hours passed.
Or maybe only minutes.
Time felt strange now—stretching and collapsing all at once, as if the world itself held its breath.
Her thoughts wandered despite herself.
The flame has changed him.
And it's changing me.
She shifted slightly, feeling the faint warmth beneath her skin, like an ember lodged too deep to dislodge. A reminder of what she had released. What she had become. Her fingertips tingled with heat, though the room was cool.
She glanced at him again.
Kael's face was calmer now, the tight lines smoothed away. He looked… less haunted. As if sleeping with her near steadied something inside him that no healer's spell ever could.
It made something twist inside her.
She didn't want to need him like this. She didn't want this connection to shape her entire life. And yet—she knew she would sit in this chair for a thousand nights if it meant he woke without pain.
Nyra leaned back, closing her eyes briefly.
But the moment she did, the warmth in her chest pulsed—once, sharp. Her breath caught. It wasn't physical pain; it was a tug. A pull.
And it wasn't coming from Kael.
Her eyes snapped open, heart quickening.
The bond hummed… outward.
Beyond the room.
Beyond the keep.
Her pulse stuttered.
Something in the world—out there—was responding to the same fire that lived in her now. Not hostile, but aware. Like a distant echo calling back to its source.
Nyra stood slowly, careful not to wake Kael, though he stirred at the shift of her energy. The heat beneath her skin flared again. Her fingertips glowed faintly—faint enough to hide, but not faint enough to ignore.
"No," she whispered under her breath, glancing toward the window. "Not now."
But whatever it was—whatever presence had brushed against her magic—was not waiting.
Something in the air thickened, the way the sky feels just before lightning strikes. A tremor of warning slid down her spine.
Kael mumbled her name in his sleep, restless again, as if he felt the change too.
Nyra moved to his side, lightly brushing her fingers against his wrist.
"It's all right," she murmured. "I'm not leaving."
But her gaze was fixed on the window. On the dark land beyond the keep walls. On the tremble in her bones that felt like a message whispered through fire.
Something out there had woken when she had.
Something was moving.
And it was coming closer.
Nyra swallowed, forcing her breath steady. She sat again beside Kael, closer this time, arms brushing the mattress.
She would stay until dawn.
But she knew, even as she watched him sleep, that whatever awaited them outside this room—whatever answered her flame—would not let them hide much longer.
And the next time it called, she wasn't sure she would be able to resist answering.