Her words were quiet. “What if next time I wake up, you’re not here? What if you go into battle and I don’t know how to find you?”
Kailorien swallowed once. Then he took her hand in his and guided it to his throat where his pulse beat steady.
“Then feel this,” he said, voice low. “Memorize it. Until the war is done. Until the last storm breaks. That is how you’ll know I’m still yours.”
She held her breath. “And if it ever stops?”
His mouth brushed her brow. “Then I’ll find a way to start it again.”
She tucked herself in tight against him.
Wrapped in the hush of the partitioned chamber, they lay like breath and bone—entwined, hearts bearing the echo of too many battles fought too close to home. Kailorien traced idle circles on her back, each one a silent vow. A rhythm of remembrance.
Auryn’s voice, barely more than a breath, stirred the space between them.
“I don’t understand this feeling,” she whispered. “I always wanted to be near you…even when you were far, I always knew you would come back. I always looked ahead. But now, I can’t help looking back…afraid I’ve missed a step. Afraid that faltering might mean… losing you.”
He stilled then drew her face upward, his fingers beneath her chin. Not to soothe her with empty promises. Just to see her. To make sure she saw him, too. “Auryn,” he said, voice as steady as the hand that cupped her cheek. “You are not walking behind me. You are not beneath me. You are beside me. Always.”
Her eyes burned.
He leaned forward, brushing his forehead to hers. “There is no step I will take that doesn’t lead back to you.”
Still pressed together, Auryn leaned up and brushed her lips over his—light as breath but lingering. Testing. Tasting.
He kissed her back. Soft at first. Then not. His hand found her hip beneath the blankets, molding her to him. Her body responded—heat blooming through her limbs, breath hitching as she opened for him, chasing more.
But then…
He pulled away.
Auryn blinked, dazed and flushed. “Why did you stop?”
Kailorien’s mouth curved into a smirk. He brushed a thumb along the edge of her jaw. “You forget—I know exactly how sore you are.”
“I’m not,” she whispered, almost too quickly.
His smirk faltered. “You are. I wasn’t careful enough with you.” His thumb lingered at the corner of her mouth. “Wasn’t patient.”
Auryn’s brows knit, lips parting—but no protest formed before he continued.
“You wielded so much power today…burned through everything you had. I felt it. Still feel it. If you weren’t borrowing my heartbeat right now…”
He didn’t finish the thought.
Didn’t need to.
But she saw the shadow cross his expression. The guilt. The restraint.
She reached up, cupped his cheek, and whispered, “It felt perfect. You didn’t hurt me.” A blush crept across her cheeks, her voice trembling with honesty. “And…my body can take yours. I was always afraid it couldn’t.”
For a moment, he stared at her as though she’d just offered him the universe. Then his hand covered hers, pressed it more firmly to his cheek. “You did more than take me,” he rasped. “You met me, Auryn. Matched me.Claimedme.”
A silence passed between them—thick with promise—before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Then her temple. Then her breastbone, just above her heart.
Auryn’s fingers curled in the fabric of his tunic, voice low, raw.
“Then…please,” she whispered, eyes shimmering like starlight trembling over dark water. “Show me again? Before war makes the ground harder to walk on.”
