The chamber had finally settled after the surge of power. The wards hummed softly, no longer rigid, as if breathing again.
Kael stiffened. His senses flared, alert and raw.
"He's here," he whispered, low, tense.
Elara's brow furrowed. "Who?"
Kael's jaw tightened. "The King. He knows. He feels the bond… your name. He's testing, observing. He'll come for us if he senses defiance."
A weight pressed at the edges of the chamber—not a presence in the room, but a presence nonetheless, subtle and terrible. Elara's hands tingled. This was fear unlike anything she had felt before. Not for herself—but for him.
"You have to hide," Kael said, stepping instinctively between her and the nearest exit. "If he sees you…"
Elara shook her head. "No. I'm not leaving you."
Kael's flames flickered, heat rolling off him. "You don't understand what he can do."
"I understand," she said, voice calm but fierce. "And I choose to protect you."
Kael froze. Never before had anyone made a choice like that for him. And yet, standing there, determination in her eyes, he realized… she had.
"Do you know what that means?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she replied. "It means I choose you. I choose this. No one—not even your father—gets to take you from me."
The bond pulsed, stronger now, approving. Kael's heart tightened, something unfamiliar yet undeniable filling him. Love.
Before he could answer, the first ripple of the King's intent struck the chamber walls, shaking stone and rattling the wards. A wave of controlled, deliberate power pressed against them like a testing hand, probing for weakness.
Elara's pulse raced. Hunger tried to rise—but she forced it down. This was not for feeding. This was for protection.
She anchored herself to Kael through the bond. Power surged, symbols burning along her arms as she pushed outward. Not violently—but as a shield, pushing the King's probing influence away.
Kael's eyes widened. "You… you did that?"
"I did," she said. "You don't get to take me. I won't let anyone take you either."
Flames roared along Kael's arms as he joined the surge, not to overpower her, but to amplify. Together, they pressed against the King's power, holding the chamber intact.
For the first time, Kael felt something he had never known. Not dominance. Not control. Not fear.
Love.
Elara's eyes met his. The bond vibrated warmly, acknowledging choice, agency, and trust.
"You're mine," he whispered, voice low and hoarse.
"And you're mine," she replied, hands still glowing from the effort.
The King's probe recoiled, fading back into Hell itself. But the message remained clear: he was watching, angry, and would not be patient.
Kael exhaled, lowering his flames slowly. He stepped closer, letting the tension settle—not fully, but intimate enough.
"You're dangerous," he said softly.
"I'm yours. We're dangerous together," Elara said.
Kael's hand found hers, intertwining their fingers. He felt her pulse, her power, her determination.
For the first time, he understood what it meant to be chosen. To be loved.
Outside the tower, the Devil King's fury rippled like a storm. Inside, two hearts had chosen each other.
And nothing—not fire, not shadow, not even Hell itself—could untangle them now.