Chapter Twenty-Three: A Fire in the Dark

The air in the cavern was thick—humid with breath, pulsing with heat.

Tara's pulse hammered in her ears as she pulled Landon closer, fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt.

His lips moved against hers, slow at first—like he was memorizing every inch of her.

Then—it deepened.

Landon's arms wrapped around her, hands pressing against the small of her back, pulling her flush against him.

Tara melted into him.

The world outside ceased to exist.

Her powers hummed beneath her skin, coiled and waiting, but for once—they weren't burning her alive.

Landon was.

The warmth of his body, the way his fingers gripped her hips, the way his breath shuddered as she traced her fingers up his spine—it was all fire, raw and consuming.

He kissed her like he had been waiting for this forever.

And maybe he had.

Tara's back pressed against the smooth stone wall, the coolness a contrast to the heat rolling off both of them.

Landon's mouth traced a path from her lips to her jaw, his breath hot against her skin.

"You're real," he murmured against her throat.

Tara shivered.

His hands were gentle but possessive, his fingers tracing the lines of her waist, her ribs, as if trying to commit her to memory.

She wasn't sure when her hands had found their way into his curls, but she never wanted to let go.

He let out a soft groan when she pulled his head back to hers, crashing her lips to his.

The kiss was desperate, heady, intoxicating.

Like he was afraid she would slip through his fingers if he didn't hold on tight enough.

Tara didn't mind.

She wanted to be held.

To be wanted.

And Landon—Landon had always wanted her.

His hands skimmed the bare skin beneath her shirt, rough callouses igniting every nerve in her body.

Her breath hitched when he pressed his forehead against hers, his green eyes dark with something unspoken.

"Tara..."

His voice was raw.

She exhaled shakily. "Don't stop."

A sharp inhale.

Then he kissed her again.

This time, there was no hesitation.

Just need.

Just them.

The cavern walls whispered their secrets.

And in the silence between kisses, between gasps, between tangled fingers and breathless murmurs—Tara let herself forget.

Forget what she was.

Forget what waited for them outside.

Forget that this moment wouldn't last forever.

Because right now, she was here.

And so was he.

⸻

Tara didn't realize how much time had passed until she was curled against Landon's chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.

His fingers traced absentminded patterns along her arm, his body warm against hers.

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Then—

"I was scared of you."

Tara stiffened.

Landon sighed, tilting his head back against the cavern wall. "Before. When I first saw you again."

Tara swallowed, a slow burn curling in her stomach.

She didn't move. "Why?"

Landon hesitated.

His fingers stilled against her skin.

Then—softly:

"Because you're not the girl I remember."

Tara's throat tightened.

She turned her head, looking up at him. "You mean because of my powers."

Landon exhaled sharply. "I mean because of what they're doing to you."

Tara tensed.

Landon's fingers brushed against her cheek, his touch featherlight.

"I know you, Tara," he murmured. "I've always known you."

His green eyes searched hers, tender and pained all at once.

"But you're changing."

Tara clenched her jaw.

Landon wasn't wrong.

She could feel it.

The power shifting beneath her skin, threatening to consume her.

The whispers of the gods clawing at the edges of her mind.

And worst of all—the thing inside her.

Balor's mark.

She didn't know how to control it.

Didn't know if she ever would.

Landon sighed, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"I'm not leaving," he whispered.

Tara closed her eyes.

His warmth was soothing, grounding.

But she wasn't sure if it was enough.

If anything could be enough.

She wasn't just a girl anymore.

She was something else.

Something unnatural.

Something terrifying.

Landon held her tighter, as if he could feel the storm rising inside her.

And maybe—he could.

Because despite the heat between them, despite the devotion in his touch—

Tara could feel it.

The fear.