Veryon

Veryon's POV

She didn't understand.

Kiara sat there, watching the fire, her body exhausted but still tense, still defiant. She thought she could fight this—them. That she could stay in that palace, surrounded by guards, by mages, by walls that would crumble the moment the spirits decided to take them.

She thought she was safe.

I knew better.

The spirits took everything from me. My throne. My people. Athena.

And now they wanted her.

I couldn't let that happen.

My fists clenched at my sides, my body a storm of tension as I looked at her. She was still so full of fire, still fighting even after she had nearly collapsed from exhaustion. She was too stubborn for her own good. But I admired that stubbornness far more than I should.

Far more than I had any right to.

She turned her head slightly, her gaze catching mine. "You're staring."

I didn't deny it.

"Sleep," I told her. It was more of an order than a request.