Chapter 6

The tower vibrates with a low, ominous pulse, the wards screaming as Torin's presence creeps closer. I stand at the balcony, wind whipping my hair, the crimson moon casting an eerie glow over Vyrithia's jagged peaks. Kaelen's beside me, his shoulder brushing mine, a steady warmth against the chill sinking into my bones. Rhea's inside, propped against the sanctum wall, her wound mending but her strength still frail—she's no fighter yet, but her eyes burn with a resolve that mirrors ours. The thread between Kaelen and me hums, stronger now, a lifeline forged in trust and fire.

"He's here," I murmur, sensing the dark ripple in the air—Torin's magic, oily and sharp, clawing at my defenses. Kaelen's hand finds mine, fingers lacing tight, and I feel his pulse through the bond—steady, fierce, ready.

"Let him come," he says, voice rough with defiance, and I turn, catching his storm-gray eyes. They're alight with something wild—anger, yes, but also us, the promise we've carved into each other. I pull him into a kiss, brief but deep, tasting the salt of his skin, and it steadies me. We're not facing this alone.

The mist below parts, and Torin emerges—a tall, cloaked figure, power crackling around him like black lightning. His voice booms, amplified by sorcery. "The grimoire, enchantress. Or I raze this tower and everyone in it." His gaze flicks to Kaelen, a sneer curling his lips. "You failed me, thief. She dies for it." He gestures to Rhea, visible through the open doors, and a bolt of shadow streaks toward her.

I fling up a ward, violet light clashing with his darkness, the impact jarring my teeth. Kaelen's already moving, dagger drawn, leaping from the balcony to meet Torin head-on. "Stay with her!" he shouts, and I hesitate—every instinct screams to follow—but Rhea's cry pulls me back. I rush to her, weaving a shield as Torin's magic lashes out again, shattering stone where it strikes.

The fight below is chaos—Kaelen's a blur of steel and fury, dodging blasts, landing cuts that make Torin hiss. I bolster him from above, spells arcing down—chains of light to bind, flames to burn—but Torin's strong, deflecting with a sneer. Rhea grips my arm, voice hoarse. "He's after your power, not just the book. End this."

She's right. I feel it—his hunger reaching for me, trying to siphon what's mine. Rage surges, and I draw on the thread, pulling Kaelen's strength into me, his will fueling mine. "Hold him," I call, and he grins, reckless, tackling Torin to the ground.

I descend, robe billowing, and join him in the courtyard. Torin throws Kaelen off, but I'm there, hands blazing as I slam a spell into his chest—violet fire laced with the bond's heat, unstoppable. He screams, staggering, and Kaelen finishes it—a dagger to the heart, clean and final. Torin crumples, his magic unraveling, leaving silence and ash.

We stand there, panting, blood and sweat mingling as the mist swallows the last of him. Kaelen pulls me close, his breath ragged against my hair. "It's done," he says, and I nod, trembling with relief—and something else, a need that flares bright after the fight.

Back in the sanctum, Rhea's safe, resting, and the tower calms, its hum softening. I turn to Kaelen, adrenaline still coursing, and he reads me—his hands grip my waist, lifting me onto the rune-circle's edge. "Now?" he asks, voice low, and I nod, desperate. My robe parts, his breeches drop, and he's inside me in one smooth thrust, filling me as I gasp, legs locking around him. It's slow this time, deliberate—his hips roll, deep and steady, his hands cupping my breasts, thumbs teasing until I arch, moaning.

The thread pulses, our victory feeding into it—every thrust a celebration, every touch a vow. I weave magic into it—phantom lips on his neck, a warm grip tightening around him—and he groans, pace quickening. "Lysara," he rasps, and I shatter, pleasure rippling through me, pulling him over the edge with a shuddering release. We cling, breathless, the runes glowing softly beneath us, sealing this moment.

Later, as dawn spills gold across the horizon, we sit entwined, Rhea watching with a faint, knowing smile. "You two are in trouble," she mutters.