Kael grunted. “We could also use some damned sunlight. Or directions.”

“Both of which we’ve lacked since you suggested cutting through the cursed forest,” came a third voice—wry and elegant.

Lirael stepped between the two with the grace of wind itself. Her raven-black hair fluttered behind her, stirred by a breeze only she could command. Her emerald eyes scanned the woods with cold precision.

“I didn’t hear a better idea,” Kael shot back.

“You didn’t listen,” she replied coolly.

Ezryn smirked, and a spark of lightning danced along the edge of his hand before vanishing into his sleeve. “Ah, the joy of traveling with Solhara’s exiled royalty and a fire-tempered brute.”

“Say that again and I’ll show you brute.”

“Enough.” Lirael raised a hand, and the air itself seemed to still. “This place is strange. Do you feel that?”

Ezryn nodded slowly. “The ley lines here bend oddly. Like they’re knotting around something…”

Kael rolled his shoulders. “I need to take a leak. You two babysit each other.”

He veered off into the trees, ignoring the way the shadows deepened with every step. There was something about this place—like the earth was watching.

Branches cracked beneath his boots. He found a clearing, circled by pale stones and veined in moss. As he stepped forward, his foot struck something uneven. He cursed, stumbling, hand bracing on what he thought was rock.

Kael’s boot knocked against stone again—but this time, it felt… wrong.

He crouched, brushing back a curtain of moss. The surface beneath wasn’t cold or rough like ordinary rock—it was smooth, too smooth. Warm.

His breath caught as the outline of a shoulder emerged. Then a neck. A delicate collarbone.

“What the—?”

Carefully, he dug away at the vines and stone, fingers trembling. A woman’s form began to unfurl from beneath the ages. The more he uncovered, the less he understood.

And the more he couldn’t stop.

Curves sculpted with impossible grace. Long limbs entangled in roots that held her like reverent offerings. Her skin—flawless, pale with a shimmer like starlight—seemed to glow beneath the moss and dust of a hundred years.

Then her face.

A gasp tore from his throat before he could swallow it.

She looked like no mortal woman. She was a vision—no, a temptation carved by something far beyond human artistry. Her lips, full and parted as if in dream. Lashes like silver dust resting on cheeks soft as silken bloom. Her hair fanned around her like a halo of light.

Kael found himself kneeling, staring, the air in his lungs forgotten.

This… this isn’t right.

He forced himself to look away, chest tightening. But then his gaze fell again—down the lines of her bare hips, the soft dip of her stomach, the arch of her thighs. She was naked in every raw, vulnerable way, and yet nothing about her was crude. She was sacred.

A flush rose hot and sharp across his face. “Fuck—”

He tore his cloak off, voice cracking in his throat. “Sorry—fuck, I’m not—damn it—”

As he stepped closer, wrapping the thick fabric around her, her body shifted. A faint sound left her lips. A stir of breath. Her chest rose—barely, subtly, but enough.

Then her eyes opened.

Kael stopped breathing.

They were gold—pure and searing, like twin suns behind glass. Eyes that looked at him without seeing him, yet pierced him all the same. For a single, soul-breaking instant, he felt seen. As if she had reached into the most hidden part of him and whispered its name.

“I was… dreaming,” she murmured.

Her voice was smoke and rain and sorrow. Young, but ancient. Beautiful in a way that hurt.

Then her body convulsed with a shiver, and something flickered. Her silver-white hair shimmered like moonlight struck by wind—and in the blink of an eye, it changed. The luminous strands deepened to inky black, tumbling down her back like a velvet waterfall. Her eyes lost their radiance, gold melting into the green of forest leaves.

But Kael had seen it. That split-second of godfire.

And he knew—whatever she was, she wasn’t just human.

She blinked again, dazed. Her gaze darted downward and caught sight of her bare skin beneath the cloak. Her breath caught in her throat.

Kael turned sharply, voice thick. “Don’t worry. I didn’t— I just wrapped you up.”

She didn’t reply. Her fingers clutched the cloak around her as if anchoring herself to this strange new world.

Kael risked a glance back. Her expression was fragile. Unmoored. But not afraid. Just… lost.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly.

Silence.

Then: “I don’t know.”

He blinked.

“I don’t remember… anything. Just the dark. And… light. Then voices.” Her voice trembled. “Everything else is… gone.”

Kael moved closer, slow. Careful not to scare her. “You can’t stay out here. This place isn’t safe.”

When he reached for her, she startled—a flicker of heat curled around her fingertips. Barely visible. Barely there.

Kael didn’t flinch.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He reached behind her knees and lifted her into his arms.

She was light—like air and fire wrapped in human skin. Her head came to rest against his collarbone, breath shallow, uncertain.

His cloak slipped slightly, revealing the curve of her bare back beneath the fall of black hair. Kael’s jaw tightened.

Focus. Gods, get it together.

Still, he couldn’t help but glance at her again. Even now, veiled in confusion and silence, her presence stirred something in him. Not just desire. Not just awe. Something deeper. Wronger.

She was beautiful.

But also impossible.

And somehow, she felt like the beginning of something vast—and dangerous.

He adjusted his grip on her gently. “I’ll take you to the others.”

Her lips parted. “…Others?”

“You’ll see.”

As Kael carried her through the forest, he didn’t notice how the air around them seemed to shift. The trees whispered more softly. The birds kept silent.

And behind them, the stone that once held a god began to crumble into dust.

The forest had gone quiet.

Too quiet.

Kael walked with long, steady strides, his arms wrapped protectively around the girl as her breath softened against his chest. Her body—still bare beneath his heavy cloak—was warm, unnervingly so. He tried not to notice it. Tried not to think of the smooth skin brushing his forearm or the way her fingers had curled instinctively at his collar, like a child seeking comfort.

She hadn’t stirred since falling asleep.

Which was… good.

Probably.

He spotted the firelight ahead, crackling between two low stones where the others had camped. Ezryn sat cross-legged, reading something by the electric pulse of a floating orb he’d summoned, his thunder-blue hair gleaming like cobalt silk under the glow. Lirael stood nearby, blade drawn—not in alarm, just a habit.

She was always alert.

And sharp-eyed.

When she saw Kael step out from the tree line, her brows arched immediately.

“…You were gone a while,” she said, her voice crisp.

Ezryn looked up. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Is that—?”

Kael stopped short, suddenly aware again of the heat pressed against his chest. The girl hadn’t moved, her cheek still resting just above his heart. His cloak was bunched awkwardly around her, revealing too much of her bare legs and shoulder.

Lirael’s gaze darkened. “Kael—what did you—?”

“I didn’t do anything!” he barked, louder than he meant to. “She was in the rock. Buried. I—I didn’t just pick her up from a damn meadow!”

Ezryn rose slowly, expression unreadable. “She was entombed?”

Kael nodded, then adjusted his grip. “Yeah. Cracked through it, thought it was just stone—then saw her face and—gods, just… help me out here.”

Lirael crossed her arms. “Put her down. Let me see.”

Kael hesitated.

Not because he didn’t trust them. But because… for reasons he couldn’t quite admit to himself, he didn’t want to let go. Not yet.

Still, he knelt carefully and lowered the girl onto the mossy ground. His cloak stayed wrapped around her, though it slipped slightly down one shoulder. Lirael moved instantly, yanking her own travel shawl from her pack and draping it around the girl’s legs.

“She’s freezing,” Lirael muttered, checking her pulse, brushing strands of black hair from her forehead. “Her skin’s warm but her aura is… strange.”

“Strange how?” Kael asked, frowning.

Ezryn came closer, holding out a hand but not touching. The air crackled faintly as his magic pulsed. “Her energy feels… unanchored. As if she’s only just remembered how to breathe.”

Kael blinked. “She was breathing. The whole time.”

“I mean spiritually,” Ezryn said. “Her essence is waking slowly. There’s something ancient threaded in her soul. I’ve never sensed anything like it.”

A sound, faint and sharp, broke the air.

The girl stirred.

Kael’s heart jolted.

Her fingers twitched. Her brows furrowed. And slowly, she blinked awake.