Morning in Hell did not arrive with light.
It arrived with warmth.
Elara woke slowly, aware first of heat—steady, familiar—curled around her like a promise kept. Kael lay beside her, one arm draped over her waist, his breath even, his fire subdued to a gentle glow beneath his skin.
For a moment, she didn't move.
She listened.
His heartbeat was strong. Unhurried. Human in a way that still surprised her.
Last night lingered between them—not as urgency, but as memory. The closeness. The way the bond had deepened until it felt less like magic and more like truth. The way they had found each other again in the quiet hours, slower this time, softer—heat building not from hunger, but from trust.
She shifted slightly, and Kael stirred.
"You're awake," he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
"Yes," she said softly.
He tightened his hold without opening his eyes, pulling her closer until there was no space left to wonder. His forehead rested against her hair.
"Stay," he said—not a command, not a plea. Just a truth.
"I am," she replied.
They lay like that for a while, bodies warm, breaths syncing. Kael's hand traced idle patterns along her back, grounding, familiar. Every touch carried memory now—of closeness chosen again and again through the night.
When he finally opened his eyes, there was something different in them. Calm. Certainty.
"You feel stronger," he said.
"So do you," she answered.
He smiled faintly. "That's what happens when you're not alone."
She turned to face him, propping herself up on one elbow. "Are you scared?"
He considered it honestly. "Of the trials? Yes. Of facing them with you?" He shook his head. "No."
Elara leaned in and kissed him—slow, lingering. Not to ignite fire, but to remind. His hand slid to her waist, warmth blooming between them again, familiar and welcome.
They didn't rush.
They let the closeness build naturally, guided by the bond that now knew their rhythms. Fire stirred under Kael's skin, as he ached for her again,to me inside her. Everything in his being answering her presence. Elara felt it echo within her magic—steady, aligned.
When they came together again, it was quieter than before. No desperation. Just certainty. Just the deep, wordless understanding of two souls choosing the same moment.
Afterward, they remained tangled in each other, breaths slowing, heat settling.
Kael pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "When the trials come," he said quietly, "remember this."
She smiled, eyes half-closed. "I will. Remembering you is what makes me brave."
He laughed softly and pulled her closer. Outside the tower, Hell stirred. Preparations began. Powers aligned.
But inside, in the quiet before the storm, they rested in each other—no longer just lovers bound by defiance, but partners strengthened by intimacy.
They would face fire.
They would face blood.
They would face will.
And they would win—
because they did not stand