**eliana's feelings./ Kieran's defensive**

The fog stretched long and unyielding as they moved through the dense forest, shadows stretching like fingers across their path. The tension between them was palpable, thick as the mist curling at their feet. 

Kieran led the way, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, scanning every movement in the darkness. Eliana followed close behind, her breath uneven, her fingers still tingling from where they had curled into his shirt not long ago. Caelan, ever the unbothered rogue, trailed them with a lazy stride—though she knew better than to underestimate him. 

Despite the chill in the air, Eliana's body still burned. 

Burned from the memory of Kieran's lips. The way his hands had clutched her, his strength overwhelming, his scent intoxicating. 

She hadn't meant to kiss him. 

She hadn't expected him to kiss her back. 

But he had. 

And now, she couldn't shake the feeling of how *right* it had felt, even in the wrongest of moments. 

Her heart pounded harder as Kieran slowed his pace, his hand instinctively moving toward her arm. He didn't touch her, but his warmth was there, close, lingering. 

"You're quiet," he murmured. 

Eliana swallowed. "Just thinking." 

"About what?" 

She hesitated. About the kiss? The way his touch had unraveled her? The way he had made her forget everything but *him*? 

She glanced up at him, their eyes meeting in the faint moonlight. The way he was looking at her… intense, unreadable, *dangerous*. 

A shiver raced down her spine, but it had nothing to do with fear. 

And everything to do with *him*. 

"Nothing important," she whispered, forcing herself to look away. 

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn't press. 

 they moved in silence for another hour, the thick forest gradually thinning. The sound of rushing water echoed in the distance—a river, if she remembered correctly. They were close. 

Too close. 

Something felt *wrong*. 

Eliana slowed her steps, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Kieran noticed instantly, his body tensing, his head tilting slightly as if listening to something she couldn't hear. 

"Eliana?" 

"Do you feel that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Caelan let out a sigh. "Oh great. What now? Is this the part where something tries to kill us *again*?" 

She ignored him, her heart hammering. The air had shifted, a strange, electric charge crackling through it. The mist was thicker here, swirling unnaturally around them. 

Then— 

A rustling in the trees. 

Fast. **Too fast.** 

Eliana barely had time to react before something lunged from the darkness. 

A blur of shadows and claws, an inhuman screech tearing through the silence. 

Kieran was faster. 

In an instant, he shoved Eliana back, his body moving with deadly precision. His dagger was in his hand before she could blink, slicing through the air as the creature lunged again. 

It was monstrous—half-decayed, its eyes glowing an eerie white, its elongated limbs stretching unnaturally as it twisted toward them. 

A *wraith*. 

Eliana's breath hitched. No. Not here. 

She stumbled back as Kieran engaged it, his movements ruthless, calculated. His dagger cut through the creature's chest, but it didn't fall. It hissed, reforming instantly, its body pulsing with unnatural energy. 

"Shit," Caelan muttered, pulling out his crossbow. "I *hate* these things." 

Eliana's hands trembled as she reached for the dagger at her thigh. She knew wraiths. Knew they couldn't be killed so easily. 

"We have to burn it!" she shouted. 

Kieran didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, he twisted his grip, slashing at the creature's neck before spinning toward her. "How?" 

Eliana's mind raced. There was only one way—*fire magic*. But she didn't have enough energy for that, not after everything that had happened. 

She turned to Caelan. "Do you have flint?" 

Caelan cursed under his breath but fished a small pouch from his belt. "You better know what you're doing, princess." 

Eliana took it, forcing her hands to remain steady. The wraith let out another ear-piercing shriek, lunging at Kieran again. He dodged, but barely. The thing was fast—unnaturally so. 

Eliana struck the flint against her blade, sparks flying. 

"Keep it still!" she yelled. 

Kieran didn't hesitate. With a brutal, calculated movement, he drove his dagger into the wraith's chest, pinning it to a tree. It writhed, screeching, its limbs clawing wildly at him. 

Eliana didn't think—she acted. 

She took the cloth from her belt, wrapped it around her dagger, and struck the flint again. A spark. A flame. 

Without waiting, she plunged the burning blade into the wraith's side. 

The creature let out a bloodcurdling shriek as fire consumed it, its body writhing violently before disintegrating into ash. 

Silence fell. 

Eliana stood there, panting, her heart slamming against her ribs. 

Then, a hand grasped her wrist. 

She gasped, looking up into Kieran's eyes. His grip was firm, grounding. His thumb brushed over her skin, slow, deliberate. 

"You okay?" he murmured. 

Her breath caught. 

She was *not* okay. 

Because the way he was looking at her—like she was something fragile, something precious—was far more terrifying than the wraith. 

But she nodded anyway. 

"Yeah." 

Kieran didn't release her. 

And she didn't pull away. 

By the time they reached the village, the fog was almost clear ,dawn was beginning to creep over the horizon. The sky bled soft shades of violet and gold, casting long shadows over the quiet, abandoned buildings. 

Eliana shivered, exhaustion pressing heavily against her bones. 

The village was exactly as she had remembered—small, forgotten, its wooden houses weathered with time. 

And yet… something felt *off*. 

Caelan let out a low whistle. "Well. This place is charming." 

Eliana ignored him, stepping forward cautiously. The air was still. Too still. 

She felt Kieran beside her before he even spoke. 

"This is the place?" 

She nodded. 

Something shifted behind his golden eyes. Something dark.