Page 85 of Kael

But then I meet Kael’s eyes. That same intense glow that always cuts straight through me.

“And if this is real,” I murmur, “if someone’s been slicing worlds open like oranges and it’s not the queen striving for more power…?”

His expression hardens, but not with anger. With resolve.

“If it’s not her,” he says slowly, “then the unknown feels riskier.”

True. But still, whoever did this brought me to Kael. Jack and Solan together. I tell him as much, adding, “They could be all about the love—an interdimensional Cupid who shoots lightning bolts rather than arrows.”

Am I grasping here, searching for the good? Absolutely, but with so much uncertainty, what else is a loved-up bloke meant to do?

Kael’s jaw works, but he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t need to. He knows I’m reaching for hope—no matter how ridiculous it sounds. But he also knows I’m not wrong. Someone brought us here. Maybe it was chaos. Maybe it was cruelty. Or maybe, somehow, it was something else.

His fingers brush against mine again, hesitant at first, before they thread through with a quiet certainty. His grip is firm. Solid. Like he’s silently saying,I don’t know what we’re walking into, but I’m with you.

The silence holds—not awkward but charged. Something between us settling. Strengthening. Maybe it’s delusion. Maybe it’s madness. But maybe, just maybe, it’s fate doing its weird, messy, terrifying thing.

“We need to sleep on it,” I say eventually, my voice quieter than I intended. “We need to think. You need rest. We both do.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just watches me.

I sigh and give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not saying no to leaving. I’m just saying… fuck it all to hell.”

Kael lets out a soft exhale—equal parts amusement and exhaustion. “That’s fair.”

I lean forwards, brushing my forehead to his. “We don’t even know what we’re facing.”

“No,” he agrees. “But we won’t face it apart.”

I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. Bloody hell, I wish I could bottle that kind of certainty and drink it by the litre. “Okay,” I whisper.

He tugs off the heavier layers of his armour and places them in a neat pile by the door. I throw off my outer tunic and collapse back onto the mattress with all the grace of a sacked potato.

Kael joins me, curling close behind. Not sexual. Just solid.

Secure.

Safe.

His arm slides around my waist, and I sigh into the pillow, my muscles uncoiling one by one. “Sleep,” he murmurs, already half under.

My lips curl into a small, stupid smile. “Only if you promise not to go all broody and noble on me tomorrow.”

A pause. Then, soft and low: “No promises.”

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

“I need your blood.”

Since this isn’t the most romantic way I can ask to finalise our fated bond—nor perhaps the best way for Kael to be woken up—when he startles awake and stares at me like I’ve said the sky is falling, I offer him the sweetest smile I can manage and press my lips to his.

“Morning,” I start again, gentler this time. “I hope you slept well. When you’re awake properly, I think we should complete our bond.”

Do I add more confidence than I’m feeling? Absolutely. I’m nothing if not great at laying on the bullshit. Though I know it’s also pointless—bravado, that is—since my emotions are there for Kael’s viewing pleasure. The tangled mess of anticipation, longing, nerves, and that tiny speck of fear? Yeah, he’s probably feeling all of it.

But Kael’s reaction isn’t what I expect.

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