Grace_Abah_5693

In a kingdom where emotions fuel magic, everyone is trained to control their feelings—because too much love, rage, or grief can literally level a city. But Ariya, a seventeen-year-old girl born with "null magic" (zero emotional magic response), is the anomaly: unbothered, unmagical, and totally free in a society ruled by restraint.

Until... she accidentally saves a dying mysterious boy—Kael, who turns out to be the last heir of a cursed bloodline, banished centuries ago. His emotions are magic. Unfiltered. Explosive. And now bonded to Ariya, the only person who can suppress his chaos and stop the ancient curse eating him alive.

Together, they’re forced into hiding. But there’s a catch: the more time they spend together, the more Ariya begins to feel. And as she starts to awaken emotionally, her null magic doesn't disappear—it morphs. She doesn’t just feel things. She begins to absorb and amplify the emotions of those around her, turning her into a magical bomb of empathy.

As enemies close in and kingdoms wage war over control of Kael’s unstable powers, Ariya must choose:

Stay emotionally numb and safe,

Or unlock her power, fall in love, and risk losing everything in a magical meltdown that could destroy them both.

The thorn crown

The cabin creaked under the weight of wind. Morning didn't come so much as bleed in, gray and cold.

Kael sat against the far wall, one knee pulled to his chest, head tilted back like he'd tried to sleep and failed.

His shirt clung to him, damp from sweat or rain or memory.

"Your shoulder's bleeding again," I said.

He didn't open his eyes. "You watching me while I sleep, cold girl?"

That made him crack a half-smile. The lazy kind, full of pain he didn't bother hiding anymore.

I stood, crossed the room, and dropped beside him.

Just unbuttoned the top of his shirt with slow fingers and pulled the fabric down, revealing the bandaged wound I'd wrapped two days ago.

That word sat between us too long.

I peeled the bandage back. Gently.

"You're not exactly a soft presence, Ariya."

And solid in a way that made me feel weightless and breakable and seen all at once.

"I used to feel nothing," I whispered. "Now everything hurts."

The kind you don't speak of. The kind that grows in silence.

My hand rested just below the wound now. Palm flat against his chest.

His chest was rising faster now. His heartbeat, a frantic thing beneath my skin.

He exhaled, slow. Like he was trying to cage the answer.

"I want to touch you," he said. "But not for me."

"I want to prove you're still real," he murmured. "Still here. Still breathing. Not vanishing into that void in your head."

He shifted, just enough to brush his forehead against mine.

"I won't kiss you," he said. "Not unless you beg."

I let out a breath that trembled. "I won't."

His hand came up, brushing my braid aside. His fingers trailed down my neck. Barely there. Like a question.

I leaned into the touch. Just an inch.

The kind of quiet that breaks your ribs from the inside.

"I miss feeling safe," I whispered.

He pulled back just enough to breathe the same air.

But it was the saddest smile I'd ever seen.

Touch starved