Blood Hounds

Kael barely had time to process Garran's words before the ruins shuddered, the darkness pressing in. The shadow's presence thickened, curling around the edges of his vision like a living thing.

"The past does not rest."

The words felt like a weight on his chest.

And yet—it wasn't the past Kael was afraid of right now.

It was her.

Rhia.

She was watching him, standing just beyond the flickering torchlight, her dagger still in hand. There was no fear in her eyes—not of him, at least—but something deeper. Something raw.

"Kael."

The way she said his name—soft, but steady—sent a shiver down his spine.

He didn't want her to look at him like that.

Like she was seeing him.

Like she was realizing something.

Garran exhaled sharply. "You should have told her."

Kael clenched his jaw. "Told her what?"

Garran scoffed, shaking his head. "That you're cursed."

The word hung in the air. Heavy. Final.

Kael barely registered the movement before Rhia stepped closer—too close—her fingers brushing against his arm. He tensed, expecting hesitation, but she didn't pull away.

"You knew," she said, her voice quieter now, more private. "Didn't you?"

Kael swallowed hard. "I suspected."

Rhia's brows furrowed. "And yet, here we are."

There was something in her voice—not anger. Not fear.

Understanding.

That was worse.

Because if she understood him, she could break him.

Kael's breath was unsteady, but so was hers. He could feel the warmth of her skin even through the layers of his armor. A part of him wanted to pull away—to stop this before it could begin.

But another part—a reckless, selfish part—wanted her to stay.

The ruins pulsed again, the shadow watching in silence. Waiting.

"You are bound by more than fate," it murmured.

Rhia's hand tightened around his wrist.

Kael should have let go.

But he didn't.

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