I smiled weakly, unable to muster my usual cheer. His happiness was a balm, but it also sharpened my resolve. I had to protect him, no matter what. Even if it meant dealing with the mage, even if it meant keeping this dark secret to myself.
Kael set the firewood down near the hearth, brushing the snow from his shoulders. His movements were easy, natural, as if he hadn’t just gone outdoors in the freezing cold.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, coming over to press a kiss to my temple.
I nodded, though my throat felt tight. “Did you?”
He shrugged, flashing me a lopsided grin. “As well as I could.”
The sight of his smile made my heart squeeze. Whatever doubts or fears I had, this moment reminded me why I was doing this. Kael had already sacrificed so much. He deserved a chance at peace, at happiness. And I would do everything in my power to ensure he got it.
No matter what it cost me.
Chapter 11: Kael
If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up.
The kitchen was warm, alive with the crackling fire in the hearth and the golden glow it cast across the room. The aroma of stew that Seranni must have reheated—hearty and rich—mingled with the faint sweetness of bread, wafting through the air like an embrace.
And there she was. Seranni stood by the hearth, her smile blooming as I entered. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her smile—it was a rare and precious thing—but tonight it felt different, like the world had tilted just enough to let in some new kind of light. A light that shone for me.
It hit me then, like a blow to the chest, how long it had been since I’d come home to anything. Even before the experiments, the war, the imprisonment—I had been alone. My parents had died young, and my home had been little more than four walls I’d returned to out of habit, not comfort. But this? Seranni standing there, the firelight catching the gold in her eyes, waiting for me—this was what I’d imagined home could feel like.
Warm. Alive. Whole.
My heart was too full to speak. Instead, I crossed the room in three long strides, the firewood still bundled in my arms, and set it down clumsily by the fireplace. I turned back to Seranni, my chest tight with gratitude, and kissed her soundly.
She gasped softly, her lips warm and sweet against mine, and then she giggled—a sound like bells. Her laughter unraveled something knotted deep inside me, and for the first time in years, I felt… peace.
Now, with someone there to greet me when I came home, it felt like I had found everything my heart had ever desired.
We settled at the table for dinner. The stew was the same as always, thick with root vegetables and flecks of the meat I’d managed to dry months before, but tonight it tasted like something out of a feast hall. Perhaps it wasn’t the food but the company, the ease I felt sitting across from Seranni as she talked about her day.
I listened more than I spoke, savoring her voice, the subtle gestures she made with her hands when she got excited. Occasionally, her amber eyes would dart to me, sparkling in the firelight, and I found myself smiling for no reason at all. The simple act of being here, of sharing a meal and conversation, felt like a miracle I didn’t deserve.
We lingered long after the food was gone. The bowls sat forgotten on the table as Seranni rested her chin in her hand, asking me questions about Drakazov, about the border towns I’d grown up in.
It felt freeing, to be able to talk to Seranni about anything I wanted without worrying about whether I was going to give away my secret.
I told her about Kalinovo, the small village where I’d spent my childhood. I told her about the markets, the sound of merchants hawking their wares, and the smell of fresh-baked rye bread mingling with the smell of beef strips sizzling as the women made stroganoff for their families.
“You must miss it,” she said softly, her voice filled with a quiet understanding.
I shrugged, running my thumb over the edge of my spoon. “I miss what it was before the war. The way it felt… safe.” My gaze met hers, and for a moment, I thought about what it might be like to bring her there someday.
But I pushed the thought aside. For now, this tower, this quiet moment, was enough.
The tranquility of the moment shattered when the door burst inward, the sound of splintering wood echoing through the night. My heart thundered in my chest as I leaped to my feet, every nerve in my body thrumming with adrenaline-fueled anticipation. The air crackled with magic, and a potent mixture of fear and uncertainty hung over us like a suffocating blanket.
“Seranni, hide!” I bellowed. “Now!”
I couldn’t wait to see if she had done as I asked, because the intruder crashed through the splintered remains of the door, cackling like a deranged jester. My hair stood on end and my stomach turned to ice.
Iknewthat crazy laughter.
The intruder stepped fully into the light, and my chest tightened with fury. Zaorak stood before me, his eyes gleaming with malicious glee as he surveyed the chaos he had wrought.
His was face was twisted with a manic grin, his brown eyes gleaming with malicious delight. His red hair, now greying, hung in greasy tendrils around his gaunt face, and his armor, once polished and proud, was now a patchwork of rust and dents.
