Ash watched all of this with cold eyes.
The moment Kale descended, he had almost stepped in.
But then he saw the fire in Nia's eyes... manic, possessive, beautiful, and he stayed his hand. Because a king does not interrupt his queen when she is writing poetry in someone else's blood.
When the collision finally tore apart, the violet sky peeled back like burning parchment. Nia fell, tricolored hair streaming behind her like a comet's tail, lightning still crackling violently across her broken body.
Yet her lips were curved in the sweetest, most satisfied smile Ash had ever seen.
Kale was not much better.
One arm gone entirely, Nia's black flames burned it into nothing but ashes. Thin rivulets of blood traced from his mouth, but his eyes... those arrogant blue eyes were still cold, still defiant.
Ash smiled.
Then he was simply there, beneath Nia's falling body.
No flash, no sound.
