Or maybe she was the one who had changed—more alert to its secrets, more sensitive to the silence between its breathing walls. The mirror and the memories it reflected wouldn’t leave her mind. Neither would the way the Dragon King had looked at her when he found her in the cavern.

Like he was scared.

Of her.

Or for her.

That night, she didn’t sleep.

She wandered instead, until the moonlight led her to the terrace that overlooked the frozen lake below. Cold air brushed against her skin, but she stayed there, her arms wrapped around herself. The sky was full of stars—more than she’d seen back in her village.

“You should be in bed,” a voice said behind her.

Eira turned, and he was there—dressed in dark silks, his silver hair tousled by the wind. There was no crown tonight, no armor. Just him.

And something soft in his eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.

He stepped beside her, resting his arms against the stone railing. “Nightmares?”

She didn’t answer.

But she didn’t have to.

He looked at her, really looked, and she could feel the air shift between them.

“I’m starting to think you don’t tell me things because you can’t,” she murmured.

He was quiet.

“I want to trust you,” she added.

“I know,” he said, barely above a whisper. “That’s what makes this harder.”

The tension stretched between them like the string of a drawn bow.

And then she reached out—just a little—her fingers brushing against his hand where it rested on the cold stone.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, his fingers curled around hers.

Warm.

Strong.

Careful.

“I don’t understand you,” she said.

“I don’t expect you to,” he replied. “But I can’t pretend I haven’t… changed. Since you arrived.”

Her heart thudded once, hard.

“What are you saying?”

He turned toward her, his gaze falling to her lips for the briefest moment.

“I’m saying I don’t want to hurt you. And I’m afraid I will.”

She stepped closer—until her breath mingled with his. She wasn’t sure if it was boldness, or something else, but she whispered, “You already have.”

His jaw tensed.

“I’m still here,” she added.

And then… silence.

Except for the sound of her heartbeat and the mountain breathing around them.

His hand lifted, touching her cheek.

And for a moment, it was just them.

Her hand pressed lightly to his chest—feeling the warmth beneath his skin, the heartbeat that didn’t quite match hers.

“I should go,” she whispered.

“Don’t.”

That single word pulled her closer than touch ever could.

And when he finally leaned in—just enough for their foreheads to meet—it wasn’t a kiss.

But it was close.

Too close.

Enough to leave her breathless.

Enough to leave him shaken.

He pulled away first, like a man fighting himself.

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” he said.

“Then let me find out,” she replied.