Page 19 of Scorched By Fate

“Don’t be late.” Her words were almost teasing, as though speaking them aloud lightened the atmosphere just enough to make it tolerable again.

“I’ll be waiting.”

EIGHT

VYNE

Pre-dawn was quiet in Scalvaris. Time blurred under the rock, the suns just a hint through the skyshafts that pierced the ceiling of our city.

The air was heavy. Tense. And in that quiet stillness, I could feel the city bracing for the threat creeping ever closer to its borders. It was more than the sickness festering in the healers’ caverns. It was something larger—something clawing at the edges of Scalvaris, unseen and unspoken.

The weight pressing against my chest wasn’t the city's fear. It was something sharper.

Selene.

Krysfruit. Smoke.

It tickled my nose before I heard her footsteps.

She emerged from the edge of the quarter, her figure cutting a sharp line against the glow spilling over the stones. Her hair was tied back, though already some loose strands curled and stuck against her skin. The strength of her frame—the set of her shoulders, the weight in her step—didn’t waver, but something else clung to her.

Weariness. Hesitation. Quiet grief behind a mask of sharp focus.

My tongue—traitorous, damnable thing—tingled at the edges, a phantom sensation I couldn’t banish no matter how tightly I locked my jaw.

When our eyes finally locked, it hit harder than I anticipated. She stiffened for just a moment, a flicker of something unguarded before those dark eyes leveled me.

“Not too many early risers in Scalvaris?” Her voice was even, carefully controlled, though the faint humor threaded in it betrayed her efforts.

I forced a wry smirk, though the weight in my chest didn't loosen. “You’re late.”

“Am I?” I could see the ghost of a smile tugging the corner of her lips as she stepped closer. “You could have left without me.”

“You must be lucky.”

Her expression sobered, the humor retreating back into the quiet defenses she always carried. “Lucky’s not exactly what I’ve been lately.”

The words weren’t sharp enough to cut, but they landed heavier than a mere observation. They sat awkwardly in the space between us, refusing to be smoothed over or walked around.

I tuned my senses back to the mission, letting practicality sand down the edges of everything else. “We’ll make our way through the tunnels first, then out to the peaks.” My wings shifted, the scrape of my claws mimicking the restless twitch in my shoulders. “We’ll stop where we can find shelter come midday.”

Her chin dipped, a small, fractional motion that said enough. Her fingers fiddled with the straps of her pack as she adjusted its position with combat trained precision.

Her motions were steady and calm as I studied her. She'd been a soldier once, and it showed. I shouldn’t have cared beyond how it would help the mission. I shouldn’t have noticed. But every inch of her stole my focus anyway.

Her scent. The set of her jaw. The stubborn line of determination cutting through exhaustion in her eyes.

Gods above, she was— No. Stop.

I forced myself to glance away, my gaze sweeping over the morning glow of the river instead. “Ready?”

Selene huffed softly and adjusted her pack again. “Lead the way.”

Her voice might have been steady. Her steps resolute. But as we moved toward the tunnels carved into the cavern wall, that same weight coiled tighter with every step. It clung to the silence between us, unspoken but impossible to ignore, no matter how far we went.

I could hear her breathe. Too clear in the tunnels. Too close. The soft rhythm of it was steady, to her credit—controlled despite the strain of exhaustion I knew ate at her body and mind. Her pack jostled against her back, the sound blending with the quiet scrape of her boot against stone.

She brushed against me, her arm, her shoulder, maybe both, catching against the tough curve of my own as the path narrowed to little more than a cramped corridor. The contact was light, but the spark it sent through my nerves lingered. Heat prickled along the ridge of my spine. I forced my wings tighter along my back, trying to reclaim the space between us, but there wasn’t any.

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