“No. Not even the old texts speak of it clearly.”
“So, Dawson might be alive right now because Aelith’s body is… sacrificing itself?” I whisper.
Kael reaches for me, takes my hand. “It’s not like that.”
“It sounds like that,” I snap, panic spiralling. “What if… what if I steal your energy? Your life force? What if bonding with me kills you?”
He squeezes my hand tightly. “You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I don’t,” he admits. “But I don’t think that’s how it works. What’s happening between Aelith and Dawson—it’s becauseDawson hasn’t completed the bond. More stages would help anchor him.”
I shake my head. “But Dawson can’t agree to that. He’s unconscious.”
Kael’s voice lowers. “Sometimes stages complete unintentionally. You and I are proof of that.”
“So, he’s better off alive with stages in place,” I whisper, “than dead.”
“Yes.”
“And Aelith?”
“He’s ignoring Iris. And Aeroth. Won’t listen to anyone.” He leans back, frustration and sorrow written all over his face. “He just wants Dawson to live.”
“That… surprises me,” I admit. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”
Kael smiles faintly. “Aelith is not as he always seems.”
I rub my chest and simply nod at his words. My thoughts are spinning, my emotions ricocheting off every corner of my mind, and Kael must feel it all. “It’s a lot.”
He nods. “Too much.”
“I thought maybe we’d have time,” I say softly. “Time to figure things out. But you’re being pulled away again.”
“I have to go,” he says, pain flickering in his eyes. “He’s still my prince, my charge. That hasn’t changed.”
The words slice into me. But I knew it. I always knew it. “You can’t stand guard twenty-four-seven.”
“Varek’s posted two guards for extra protection,” he admits. “But still….”
“I get it,” I say. “He’s not safe here.”
“No.”
“I hate this,” I mutter. “But… will you come to me? Tonight?”
He looks at me, long and hard, and I know he feels the ache inside me. “Yes,” he whispers. “I will.”
Relief loosens something within me, even if it’s temporary.
He stands, ready to go. I rise with him, and he leans in and kisses me—quick and soft. But it’s not enough. Not even close. So I grab his shoulders, and before he can stop me, I climb him like the Glowranth-shaped tree he is.
His arms instinctively go around me as I wrap my legs around his waist, pressing my mouth to his. He sinks into the kiss, and so do I, mouth fierce and possessive and filled with everything I haven’t been able to say. My heart, my breath, my whole damn soul is in this kiss.
When he finally pulls away, we’re both wrecked, breathing heavily and wishing he could stay. He lowers me gently to the floor and whispers goodbye, and I watch him walk away, feeling the hollow ache inside me expand with every step he takes.
“Fuck,” I murmur to the empty room.
