Chapter 15

The storm raged on, relentless and merciless, swallowing the landscape in a swirling frenzy of white. Kaelion's breath was ragged as he carried Rhaine deeper into the cave. The biting cold had turned her skin pale, her body shivering uncontrollably despite the two cloaks cocooning her. Her breaths were shallow, fragile against the howling winds outside.

This isn't enough, he thought grimly. Body heat alone won't save her.

He cast a glance at the cave entrance, where the cold crept in like a sinister force determined to claim them. His jaw clenched as he looked back at Rhaine, her stiff form trembling against the unforgiving cold. Time was running out.

Without hesitation, he gently moved her further away from the icy entrance, positioning her against the far wall where the chill was less oppressive. The cloaks wrapped snugly around her, but it was a weak defense against the frigid air. Kaelion knew he had to act fast.

"I'll be back," he murmured, though she was too far gone to hear him.

Steeling himself, Kaelion braved the storm once more. The wind clawed at his face, snow swirling around him in a blinding haze. Each step was a battle, the thick snow dragging at his boots. His fingers, numb and stiff, struggled as he broke branches from nearby trees. He gathered sturdy logs, snapping smaller branches and collecting brittle twigs, his hands raw from the cold.

The minutes dragged on like an eternity, each second gnawing at his resolve. His breath frosted in the frigid air, but he pushed through, determined. With aching limbs, he dragged the bundle of wood back through the storm, his muscles screaming in protest. The cave loomed ahead, a dark sanctuary against the fury of the blizzard.

Stumbling inside, Kaelion's first instinct was to check on Rhaine. Her shivering had lessened, but that wasn't a good sign—it meant the cold was sinking deeper into her bones. His heart clenched as he brushed damp strands of hair from her pale face.

Stay with me, Rhaine.

He forced himself to focus, placing the wood at the center of the cave. The rocks near the back were dry enough to use for striking a fire. His hands trembled as he knelt down, arranging the twigs carefully.

The first attempt failed.

Frustration gnawed at him as he struck the rocks again. The spark fizzled and died.

The second try was just as fruitless. His breath came in short bursts, more from desperation than exhaustion.

No... come on. He glanced at Rhaine, her fragile form barely moving. The sight drove a fresh surge of determination through him.

Third try. Nothing.

Gritting his teeth, Kaelion struck the rocks harder, over and over, his knuckles bleeding from the force. He tried again. And again. On the fifth attempt, a tiny spark flickered.

There!

He shielded the fragile spark with his hands, feeding it with the twigs until it caught, flames licking hungrily at the wood. The fire crackled to life, warm and defiant against the cold. Relief washed over him, but there was no time to savor it.

Kaelion gently lifted Rhaine and brought her closer to the fire, his arms strong yet careful. He eased her down, her head resting against his chest, the thin layer of clothes barely a barrier between them. The warmth of the flames began to chase away the cold, their flickering light casting shadows against the cave walls.

Her breathing, though faint, was steadying.

"You're safe now," Kaelion whispered, his voice rough. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Rhaine, finally warmed by the fire, looked much better. Her breaths had steadied, and the color was slowly returning to her dark skin, which now shimmered softly in the light. The sight was... captivating. Too captivating.

Kaelion's gaze lingered on her, drawn in despite himself. The thin veil that covered half of her face added an air of mystery, making her all the more alluring. Strands of her hair had fallen loose, curling delicately against her cheek. He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his side.

Before he could stop himself, his hand lifted. Gently, almost reverently, he brushed the rogue curls aside, his knuckles grazing the thin fabric of her veil. The sensation was fleeting but electric. His breath hitched as he caught himself lingering too long.

 He let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle, shaking his head. "You'll be the death of me," he murmured under his breath, pulling his hand away reluctantly.

 Moments later, Rhaine stirred softly against him, her movements subtle but noticeable. The cold no longer clung to her as fiercely. Kaelion shifted slightly, trying to make her more comfortable, adjusting the oversized cloaks that enveloped her small frame.

 Suddenly, something cold and wet brushed against his hand.

 Frowning, Kaelion peeled back part of the cloak—and his breath caught. There it was.

 The Frostbloom. Its dark purple petals gleamed faintly, dusted with shimmering frost, tightly gripped in her small hand. Snow clung stubbornly to the roots, encasing them in a frozen fist.

 His heart raced as he stared at the miraculous sight. She had found it. Against all odds, in the heart of the storm, she had clung to the very thing they had risked their lives for.

 Kaelion's gaze flicked back to her serene face, her features softened in sleep. His chest tightened with a strange mix of awe and concern. How had she managed to hold onto it through that hellish storm?

Carefully, he pried the flower from her grasp, mindful not to spill the snow clinging to its roots. His brow furrowed as realization dawned—Could it be that the Frostbloom needed snow to survive?

There was no time to waste.