Page 18 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

We lapse into quiet, the firelight crackling in the background. My mind whirls with the new depth of understanding I feel toward him. Behind his stoic, formidable exterior is a man haunted by a love that rotted into darkness. I empathize more than I care to admit, because my own brush with isolation and betrayal has left me unsure who to trust.

When Kaelith shifts closer, my breath catches. The tether surges with a faint pulse, as though acknowledging our heightened awareness of each other. I inhale slowly, letting the moment settle. My fear of him doesn’t vanish, but now it mingles with a cautious attraction, a strange sense of connection that defies the logical part of my brain.

Before anything else can be said, the distant roll of thunder rumbles across the valley. We both glance up, noting how the clouds have thickened into a uniform steel-gray sheet. Snow transitions to sleet, pattering against the shattered walls of our makeshift shelter. Kaelith stands, wings partially unfurling to check the sky.

“It might storm hard tonight,” he observes, voice tense. “We should gather more cover if we can.” He picks up a loose rock slab, attempting to wedge it along the gap in the broken walls. I help, though my arms quiver from the effort. Together, we manage to brace it in place, forming a crude roof extension that shields most of the fire.

Lightning flashes in the distance, illuminating the valley for a heartbeat. A surge of wind rattles our structure. I press a palm to my chest, feeling my heart race. For the first time today, I realize how vulnerable we are. If the storm intensifies, we could be trapped. Kaelith seems equally uneasy.

He steps back inside, crouching near the embers. “Stay close,” he mutters, eyes flicking to me. There’s an unspoken message in his stance—we only have each other to rely on.

Huddling near him, I wrap my cloak tighter, every muscle tense against the biting cold. Lightning arcs again, a jagged fork across the sky. Thunder crashes, and the wind howls, sending sleet slashing in sideways. Our half-formed shelter groans under the assault. I brace a hand against the wooden slab, praying it holds.

A sudden gust tears at the edges of the rock wall, dislodging a chunk that crashes to the ground behind us. I scream involuntarily, stumbling backward. The bond jolts, and Kaelith catches me with a strong arm. “Easy,” he murmurs, but I hear concern in his tone. We’re safe for the moment, though the structure is precarious.

Pressing close together, we endure the onslaught of wind and sleet for what feels like hours. My teeth chatter, and his body radiates warmth that seeps through my soaked cloak. The tension between us morphs again, overshadowed by survival instinct. I can’t afford pride or fear. I cling to him, letting his solid presence anchor me against the storm.

Time blurs. The wind’s howl becomes a constant roar in my ears, and the raw cold saps my strength. My eyelids droop, exhaustion dragging me downward. Vaguely, I register Kaelith’s rumbling voice, urging me to stay awake, to keep my blood flowing. My brand itches something fierce, but it’s overshadowed by the numbing cold.

At some point, the storm quiets to a dull moan, leaving behind a world dusted with glistening sleet. I come to awareness, finding myself half-curled against Kaelith’s broad chest, his wings angled to block the worst of the wind. Heat creeps up my neck as I realize how intimately we’re positioned, but I’m too drained to pull away. My breath forms pale clouds in the frigid air.

He senses my stirring and releases me carefully. The bond thrums, as if acknowledging the shift. “It’s nearly dawn,” he says, voice raspy from lack of sleep. “The storm died down a bit.”

I nod, blinking away the remnants of drowsiness. My limbs ache, but at least I’m alive. Outside, faint light filters through the cracks in our makeshift shelter. Snow and ice cling to the ground, painting the valley in a uniform white sheen. Our fire still smolders, an orange glow against the gloom.

“Thank you,” I whisper, clearing my throat. I’m not sure if I’m thanking him for saving me from the falling debris, or for sharing his warmth, or for not leaving me in the cold while he found better shelter. Maybe all of the above.

He looks away, a silent acknowledgment flickering across his features. Then he stands, stiff from hours spent crouched in the frigid air. I do the same, my legs protesting with every movement. Despite the discomfort, I feel a strange sense of closeness to him now. We survived the storm together, physically pressed against each other in a way that forces me to confront the raw tension thrumming beneath the surface of our forced partnership.

“We should check if anything’s salvageable outside,” he says, stepping gingerly around the slick floor. “And see if the road is still passable.”

I pull my cloak around me, nerves humming. “Right,” I answer. My cheeks still burn at the memory of clinging to him, but I bury my embarrassment beneath practicality. We’re in survival mode, and there’s no room for complicated emotions or fear of what I might be feeling.

Outside, the wind remains a steady breeze, sharp with chill, but nowhere near as violent. Our surroundings look like a world freshly minted in silver and gray. Thin ice crackles under my boots, and each breath is a visible puff in the frosty air. Kaelith sweeps his gaze across the horizon, wings folded tightly.

“At least we can see footprints,” he notes, pointing to a set of half-frozen tracks. Probably ours from the previous evening, but it reaffirms that we’re still on a road. “If the path remains somewhat clear, we can move on.”

I nod, hugging myself to ward off a shiver. “We should. The Glen is still far, and we can’t risk more storms. Not without proper shelter or supplies.”

He grunts in agreement, stepping forward. I follow, careful not to slip on the icy patches. The faint crunch of ice underfoot reminds me how fragile this environment can be. A few paces from our shelter, Kaelith halts abruptly. He crouches low, examining something in the snow. My heart catches.Tracks? Or signs of Drayveth?

“What is it?” I ask, creeping closer.

He runs a clawed fingertip along a faint indentation in the snow, then scowls. “It’s older than the storm, but not by much. Looks like someone passed here during the night, maybe just before the weather worsened.” He points to a partial boot print and a swirl, like the hem of a cloak dragging.

Fear slides icy tendrils up my spine. “Drayveth?” My voice wavers.

Kaelith’s jaw flexes. “Possibly. Or other travelers. But these steps circle around, as if they were searching.” He straightens, scanning the landscape. “If it was Drayveth, he’s close. Or was.”

My heart thunders. Anxiety prickles at the base of my neck, and I rub the brand on my wrist reflexively. “We need to move—now.”

He nods, wings shifting restlessly. “Agreed. The faster we put distance between us and whoever left those prints, the better.” A note of protective anger edges his tone. Seeing him bristle at the thought of Drayveth cornering me kindles an odd sense of reassurance, even as my rational mind warns that this could all end in violence.

We quickly gather what little we have left—hardly anything beyond the clothes on our backs—and set out eastward again. My shoulders remain tense, expecting an ambush at any moment. But the valley remains silent, broken only by the hush of wind ruffling icy bushes. The road is slippery, forcing us to walk slower than we’d like.

Throughout the morning, Kaelith and I exchange terse banter to keep our spirits up. He teases me about nearly sliding off the mountain path yesterday, while I retort that perhaps his stone sleep made him sluggish in spotting the storm. It’s lighthearted on the surface, but each jibe carries an undercurrent of vulnerability. We’re testing the waters of how much trust we can place in each other, prodding at the boundaries of fear and grudging respect.

That interplay grows, small sparks of connection lighting up the gloom. Once, I slip on a hidden patch of ice. He catches me by the elbow, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Again?” he murmurs. I make a face, swatting him lightly and stepping away. The bond thrums in my ears, leaving me warm despite the bitter cold.

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