CHAPTER SIX - Embers Between Us

The fire had gone out, but its echo remained.

Not in the ruined hall, not even in the obsidian throne—but in her. Eira moved differently now. Her footsteps, even when careful, had weight. Her gaze held something ancient and unreadable. Like her eyes had been borrowed from someone far older than she was supposed to be.

Kael noticed. He always noticed.

But he didn't speak of it. Not yet.

Because some truths don't need air. Some truths burn silently.

---

That Night — Beneath the Shattered Vault

They camped in a side chamber of the ruins, where a massive skylight had once existed—now just a jagged circle of open air, where snow drifted down like silent feathers. Kael built a fire in the hollow of a broken fountain, using the splinters of an old ceremonial bench. The flame crackled gently between them.

Eira sat cross-legged on a tapestry folded into a blanket. Her dark curls were tied up into a lazy twist, but tendrils had fallen free, clinging to her flushed cheeks. Her cloak had dried by the fire, but her boots steamed quietly from the heat. She wore only the soft cotton tunic and fitted breeches beneath—charcoal grey, simple, but there was an effortless grace to the way they clung to her form.

She looked like royalty in exile. A girl made of ash and legacy.

Kael tried not to stare.

He failed.

---

The Silence Between Their Words

"You saw something in that throne room," he said finally.

Eira nodded, eyes fixed on the fire. "Not a vision. More like… a memory. But not mine."

"Azareth's?"

She looked up at him then, her voice low. "Mine. But from another life."

Kael's breath caught. "Reincarnation?"

"Or prophecy. I don't know. But the woman I saw… she was me, and she wasn't. She was fire. She was war."

He watched her struggle with it—the truth clawing at the inside of her skin.

"You're not her," he said quietly.

"But I could become her."

"Only if you let yourself."

Eira turned away, jaw clenched. "What if that's my destiny? What if I'm not a weapon the Queen wants to destroy, but one she created?"

He rose to his feet, walked slowly to where she sat. The fire threw gold across his face—shadow and warmth playing across his cheekbones, his strong jaw, the scar at the edge of his eyebrow. He knelt in front of her.

Then—carefully—he placed a hand over her heart.

She froze.

"You feel that?" he murmured.

She nodded.

"That's yours. Not Elowen's. Not the throne's. Yours. And no one—no one—gets to rewrite who you are unless you hand them the pen."

Her breath hitched.

"Kael…" she whispered.

His voice dropped lower, soft enough to crack stone. "You want to break? I'll hold the pieces. You want to burn? I'll stand in the smoke. But don't ever doubt this…"

His fingers curled slightly against her chest.

"…You're still you."

---

What Happened Next

Eira didn't think.

She leaned in.

The kiss wasn't perfect.

It wasn't planned.

It wasn't clean or slow or scripted like a fairytale.

It was raw. Urgent. Her lips crashed into his, her fingers tangling in his cloak, pulling him closer like gravity had finally found something worthy of clinging to. His hand cupped her jaw as he kissed her back, deep and searching—like he'd been waiting for this. Like he'd known this was coming, but refused to chase it.

Until now.

The kiss broke—only slightly—and their foreheads pressed together, breaths ragged, silence pulsing between them.

"We shouldn't…" Eira whispered.

"I know."

"But…"

"I know."

And he kissed her again.

Softer this time.

As if he were memorizing her.

Not the fire. Not the heir. Just Eira.

---

Later — While She Slept

Kael sat with his back to the wall, blade resting across his lap. Eira was curled beside him, breathing steady. Even in sleep, she furrowed her brow, like she was still fighting something.

He watched her.

And remembered the mural.

The fire. The prophecy.

The girl with Eira's face, burning the world.

He closed his eyes.

And prayed—silently, fiercely—that he was strong enough to keep her from becoming it.

Even if it meant losing her.

---

Far Away — In Elowen's Observatory

The Queen turned to her map, fingers dragging across the etched mountains where Azareth slept.

She smiled.

"Let her fall in love," she said to the shadows. "It will make her so much easier to break."