The hunger didn't arrive like pain.
It arrived like awareness.
Elara felt it the moment Kael's hand brushed the small of her back as they moved through the citadel—an innocent touch, meant only to guide her through a narrow corridor of black stone.
Her breath caught anyway.
Something inside her pulled.
Not violently.
Not yet.
Her steps slowed.
Kael noticed instantly.
"Elara," he said quietly. "What is it?"
She shook her head, throat tight. "I don't know. It feels like—"
Her words dissolved into a sharp inhale as heat rushed through her veins, sudden and overwhelming. The runes along the walls flared dimly, reacting to her rising pulse.
Her knees weakened.
Kael caught her, one arm firm around her waist.
The contact was catastrophic.
Power surged through her like a wave breaking against bone. Elara gasped, fingers clutching his coat as instinct screamed yes.
Kael hissed, jaw tightening as crimson light flared beneath his skin.
"Elara," he warned, voice low, strained. "You're pulling."
"I—" She tried to let go.
Her body refused.
The bond flared hot between them, tight and intimate, as if something invisible had wrapped around both their hearts and drawn them too close, too fast.
Her forehead fell against his chest.
His heartbeat thundered beneath her ear.
Too loud.
Too tempting.
The hunger sharpened.
Not just for power.
For him.
Kael's hand slid up her spine, fingers digging in—not to claim, but to ground her. His breath was uneven against her hair.
"Breathe," he said through clenched teeth.
"With me."
She tried.
But the hunger whispered how easy it would be to give in.
To take.
Her fingers tightened.
Kael groaned softly—an involuntary sound—and that broke something in her.
She jerked back with a sob, tearing herself from his grasp.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaken. "I didn't mean to—"
He turned away from her abruptly, shoulders tense, flames flickering briefly along his back before he forced them down.
When he faced her again, his eyes were dark.
Not angry.
Affected.
"That wasn't intentional," he said carefully. "But it wasn't nothing."
Elara hugged herself, breathing hard. "It felt… right. That's what scares me."
Before he could answer, footsteps echoed.
Infernal guards appeared at the far end of the corridor—executioners, their armor etched with suppression sigils. Their presence felt cold, invasive.
"Elara Nyx," one called. "By decree of the Infernal Throne—"
The hunger snapped.
Elara cried out as power surged through her, violent and reflexive. Blood ripped from one executioner's body in a brutal rush, his scream cut short as he collapsed.
She stared at her hands in horror.
"I didn't choose that," she whispered.
Kael chose for both of them.
The world erupted.
Flames tore through the corridor as Kael moved, lethal and uncontrolled, tearing through the remaining executioners with terrifying precision. There was no restraint this time. No warning.
When it was over, ash drifted slowly to the floor.
Silence rang.
Kael stood trembling, fists clenched, breathing hard—not from exertion, but from holding himself back.
Elara approached him slowly, fear and something far more dangerous twisting together in her chest.
"I'm sorry," she said again, softer now.
He turned.
Up close, the bond hummed violently between them—heat, awareness, need. He reached out, hesitated, then cupped her face with careful fingers, as if afraid she might shatter.
"You didn't ask for this hunger," he said quietly. "But it knows me."
Her breath hitched at his touch.
"And I know it," she whispered.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Their foreheads nearly touched. Their breaths mingled. The bond tightened, electric and unbearable, urging them closer—too close.
Kael closed his eyes.
Then, deliberately, he stepped back.
"We can't let it decide for us," he said.
Elara nodded, though every part of her screamed in protest.
Because deep down, she already knew the truth—
One day soon, restraint would fail.
And when it did,
it wouldn't just be power she took.he hunger didn't arrive like pain.
It arrived like awareness.
Elara felt it the moment Kael's hand brushed the small of her back as they moved through the citadel—an innocent touch, meant only to guide her through a narrow corridor of black stone.
Her breath caught anyway.
Something inside her pulled.
Not violently.
Not yet.
Her steps slowed.
Kael noticed instantly.
"Elara," he said quietly. "What is it?"
She shook her head, throat tight. "I don't know. It feels like—"
Her words dissolved into a sharp inhale as heat rushed through her veins, sudden and overwhelming. The runes along the walls flared dimly, reacting to her rising pulse.
Her knees weakened.
Kael caught her, one arm firm around her waist.
The contact was catastrophic.
Power surged through her like a wave breaking against bone. Elara gasped, fingers clutching his coat as instinct screamed yes.
Kael hissed, jaw tightening as crimson light flared beneath his skin.
"Elara," he warned, voice low, strained. "You're pulling."
"I—" She tried to let go.
Her body refused.
The bond flared hot between them, tight and intimate, as if something invisible had wrapped around both their hearts and drawn them too close, too fast.
Her forehead fell against his chest.
His heartbeat thundered beneath her ear.
Too loud.
Too tempting.
The hunger sharpened.
Not just for power.
For him.
Kael's hand slid up her spine, fingers digging in—not to claim, but to ground her. His breath was uneven against her hair.
"Breathe," he said through clenched teeth.
"With me."
She tried.
But the hunger whispered how easy it would be to give in.
To take.
Her fingers tightened.
Kael groaned softly—an involuntary sound—and that broke something in her.
She jerked back with a sob, tearing herself from his grasp.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaken. "I didn't mean to—"
He turned away from her abruptly, shoulders tense, flames flickering briefly along his back before he forced them down.
When he faced her again, his eyes were dark.
Not angry.
Affected.
"That wasn't intentional," he said carefully. "But it wasn't nothing."
Elara hugged herself, breathing hard. "It felt… right. That's what scares me."
Before he could answer, footsteps echoed.
Infernal guards appeared at the far end of the corridor—executioners, their armor etched with suppression sigils. Their presence felt cold, invasive.
"Elara Nyx," one called. "By decree of the Infernal Throne—"
The hunger snapped.
Elara cried out as power surged through her, violent and reflexive. Blood ripped from one executioner's body in a brutal rush, his scream cut short as he collapsed.
She stared at her hands in horror.
"I didn't choose that," she whispered.
Kael chose for both of them.
The world erupted.
Flames tore through the corridor as Kael moved, lethal and uncontrolled, tearing through the remaining executioners with terrifying precision. There was no restraint this time. No warning.
When it was over, ash drifted slowly to the floor.
Silence rang.
Kael stood trembling, fists clenched, breathing hard—not from exertion, but from holding himself back.
Elara approached him slowly, fear and something far more dangerous twisting together in her chest.
"I'm sorry," she said again, softer now.
He turned.
Up close, the bond hummed violently between them—heat, awareness, need. He reached out, hesitated, then cupped her face with careful fingers, as if afraid she might shatter.
"You didn't ask for this hunger," he said quietly. "But it knows me."
Her breath hitched at his touch.
"And I know it," she whispered.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Their foreheads nearly touched. Their breaths mingled. The bond tightened, electric and unbearable, urging them closer—too close.
Kael closed his eyes.
Then, deliberately, he stepped back.
"We can't let it decide for us," he said.
Elara nodded, though every part of her screamed in protest.
Because deep down, she already knew the truth—
One day soon, restraint would fail.
And when it did,
it wouldn't just be power she took.