The thorn crown

He didn't speak when the sun rose.

Just sat beside me at the cave's mouth, legs drawn up, blade across his lap. Watching.

Always watching.

His eyes had dulled back to bronze, but they hadn't lost their edge.

They were sharp. Possessive. Protective in a way that felt more like a promise than a threat.

I stretched. Winced.

He noticed.

"Where?" he asked, already moving closer.

"It's nothing," I muttered.

He crouched in front of me, rough fingers grazing my hip, the bruise beneath my shirt.

"You call this nothing?"

"It's from running."

His jaw clenched. "It's from me not shielding you fast enough."

I rolled my eyes. "Are you going to start guilt-tripping me now? Because that's hot."

His gaze snapped up to mine.

And softened.

Not like water.

Like fire doused into coals still burning, still dangerous, but controlled.

"No guilt," he said. "Just this."

He reached into his satchel, pulled out a cloth and salve.

He didn't ask.

Just applied it gently, like he was touching something sacred.

I didn't breathe.

Couldn't.

The air between us was still raw.

Our skin hadn't forgotten the night before.

My lips still ached with his name.

"Kael"

"No," he said, voice quiet but final. "Don't ruin it."

"Ruin what?"

"This," he said. "Whatever it is. Whatever we are."

He sat beside me again. Not touching. Just close enough to feel.

Then: "If something tries to take you, I won't just stop it. I'll destroy it."

I looked at him sharply.

"You can't say things like that."

"I just did."

"You think this is safe? That you can guard me forever?"

"No," he said. "But I'll die trying."

I hated how those words settled in my chest.

Warm.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

"You shouldn't care this much," I whispered.

"I don't," he said.

Then softer, without looking at me....

"I care more."

And somehow, that was worse.

Because it meant I wasn't the only one falling.