Elara’s gaze searched mine, and her expression softened in a way I had never seen before. Vulnerable, questioning, yet still carrying that sharp edge of fire. That was what undone me most of all, that she could look at me with such softness and still be unrelenting, still so much stronger thanshe even realised.
“What happens now?” she murmured, her voice nearly silent.
Her words struck me like a blade to the chest, leaving me without an answer.
What happens now? I wanted to tell her this wouldn’t change anything, it wouldn’t cloud my focus or weaken my resolve. I tried to tell her I could still protect her, still lead her through this war without letting this... us... become a distraction. But those were just lies I’d once been good at telling myself.
This alteredeverything.
“I don’t know,” I admitted quietly, my thumb brushing against her cheekbone. The softness of her skin against my rough hand grounded me, tethering me to the moment I didn’t want to let go of. “But I’m not sorry.”
Her lips parted at my words, her breath catching in her throat. She didn’t pull away, didn’t shove me back or demand answers I couldn’t provide. She stared at me as if I were something she couldn’t decide whether to trust or to fear.
“Elara,” I said softly, her name holding more weight than I intended. “I swore I would protect you, no matter the cost. That hasn’t changed. But...”
But what? That I wanted to be more than her protector? Every time I looked at her, the walls I had built around myself splintered just a little more. That she had awakened something in me, something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in years, something dangerous and uncontainable?
I can’t say it. Not yet.
She tilted her head slightly, her hands still resting against my chest, where she could surely feel the pounding of my heart.
“But?” she pressed gently.
I closed my eyes briefly, gathering myself before speaking
again. “But I won’t let this war take you. Not the Council, not the bond, not anything.” I opened my eyes, meeting hers with every ounce of conviction I had. “I promise you, Elara.”
Her brow furrowed, the weight of my words settling over her like a shroud. I could see the conflict within her, the samewar I felt raging in my own chest. This was dangerous. What had just happened between us was a risk neither of us could afford.
And yet, she didn’t release her grasp.
Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of my shirt, anchoring her to me. “You can’t promise that,” she said quietly, though her voice trembled enough to reveal her doubt. “Not in a war like this.”
I leaned closer, my forehead touching hers, my voice soft and steady. “Watch me.”
She shivered slightly at that; however, whether it was from the promise in my voice or something else, I couldn’t say. Her eyes searched mine, lingering as if trying to grasp something even I couldn’t articulate.
I wanted to kiss her again, God’s help me; I longed to pull her back into that fire and lose myself in her, if only for one more moment. But I couldn’t. Not now. The lines I’d crossed tonight were dangerous enough.
With great effort, I forced myself to loosen my grip on her, my fingers brushing against her jaw one last time before falling away. She didn’t move, yet the distance I placed between us felt colder than it ought to have.
“You should get some rest,” I said softly, my voice rougher than I had intended. “We have a long fight ahead of us.”
She stared at me for a moment longer, as if deciding whether to argue, before nodding slowly. “You should, too.”
I nearly laughed at that. Sleep was the last thing I could find tonight, not with the memory of her kiss still burning through me like wildfire. Not realising just how far I had already fallen for her.
“I’ll try,” I said, returning to the door.
Her eyes followed me, lingering even as I turned away and reached for the handle. I paused there, my back to her, clenching my jaw against the pull that wanted me to turn back around. To stay.
“Goodnight, Elara,” I said softly, my hand tightening around the handle.
“Goodnight, Azrael,” she whispered, her voice softer this time, like a secret confession.
I compelled myself to leave the room, closing the door softly behind me. The chilly stone hallway was a sharp contrast to the warmth I had just departed from, and for a moment, I remained there, staring into space, attempting to calm the pounding in my chest.
What have I done?
