CHAPTER FOUR - The Storm Beneath the Skin

The storm came like a beast from the belly of the sky.

Not a quiet, drifting snow, but a blizzard—wild, clawing, furious. The Frostwood vanished behind a wall of white, the trees groaning under the weight of wind. Snow hurled itself sideways, slicing the air in jagged spears. It wasn't a storm made by nature. Eira could feel it.

It had teeth.

---

At the Cave Mouth

Kael's cloak whipped around him as he shoved a stone slab across the mouth of the shallow cave, shielding them from the worst of the wind. His jaw was tight, muscles flexing beneath his tunic as he braced against the force. Eira helped where she could, her fingers stiff and red, her skin stinging with cold.

As the storm howled outside, darkness settled around them. Not silence—no, the blizzard was loud, screaming like it remembered something it had lost—but it was a strange kind of stillness. A womb of wind. A pause between worlds.

They sat close to the fire Kael had built with shaking hands, its flickering light casting shadows along the cave walls. Their shoulders brushed. Neither moved away.

Eira clutched her knees to her chest, watching the flames twist and curl. Her cloak was damp. Her boots were soaked. But her mind was blistering.

Something was changing inside her.

Something old.

"Kael," she said quietly, voice nearly drowned by the wind, "this storm… it's not natural."

He didn't look at her. "No."

"You think it's her?"

He nodded once. "The Queen's High Weatherwitch. She controls the skies east of the capital."

Eira's chest tightened. "She's hunting us already."

Kael finally turned, his eyes fierce and full of that quiet storm she was beginning to crave.

"No," he said. "She's hunting you. I'm just the idiot who didn't walk away."

A heartbeat passed. Then Eira let out a small, unsteady laugh. It cracked at the end, something soft and scared hiding inside it. Kael looked at her, eyes narrowing.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," she whispered. "Just… breaking."

He shifted closer, his warmth seeping into her frozen skin. "Break all you want, Flame. I'm still here."

---

Later — In the Flickerlight

The fire burned low, throwing gold across Kael's features. Eira watched the way the shadows kissed his jaw, the slow rise and fall of his chest. He sat with one knee bent, his forearms resting casually across it, but everything about him was alert. Like a lion caged inside human skin.

"How did you learn to fight?" she asked softly, hoping the question would hide her shivering heart.

He glanced at her. "Same way you're learning to run. Desperation. And a bastard of a teacher who didn't care if I bled."

"Did you?"

"Bleed?" He smiled without humor. "Every day. Until I stopped losing."

Eira lowered her gaze, something bitter and warm blooming inside her. "You think I'll make it?"

"I know you will," he said, no hesitation. "But surviving isn't the question anymore, is it?"

She blinked. "What is?"

He leaned forward, his voice like velvet over steel. "Whether you're brave enough to stop hiding from yourself."

The words struck harder than any spell.

Because she was hiding. From the fire. From the truth. From the pieces of herself too wild to tame.

And Kael saw every one of them.

---

Midnight — Fevered Dreams

Later, when sleep took her like a storm of its own, the dreams came—vivid, burning, unreal.

She stood in a field of silver flowers, all of them wilting beneath her feet. The sky above cracked with flame. And in the distance, a woman stood cloaked in ice, holding a blade made of wind.

"You are not the last," the woman said, voice like shattered glass.

"Who are you?" Eira whispered.

But the answer came not from the woman—but from the fire in Eira's own chest, rising, roaring—

You are the heir of flame.

She woke gasping.

Kael was there beside her, instantly alert. "Eira?"

She grabbed his wrist, her grip iron-tight. "She's in my dreams now. She's inside me."

Kael looked into her wild, terrified eyes and said only, "Then we learn how to burn her out."