The thorn crown

He came to with a gasp. Violent. Like surfacing after drowning.

Which, in his defense, wasn't far off from what just happened.

His fingers gripped my arm, hot and trembling. His whole body shook heat radiating off him in pulses. Controlled chaos. Barely.

I tried to pull back. He didn't let go.

"You're still here," he said, breathless.

"Unfortunately," I said. "Don't read too much into it."

He blinked up at me. Up close, his face was sharp. Clean angles. Dust and ash smudging his cheekbones. He looked like royalty sculpted by war. Not beautiful just…

dangerous.

And I was holding him like he was breakable.

"I didn't mean to " he started, then stopped, his jaw clenching. "That arrow—"

"Melted," I said. "Cool trick, by the way. Is that a party trick or are you always this flammable?"

He flinched. Not from pain. From something else. Something behind his eyes.

Shame. Maybe.

"Sorry," he whispered.

Gods. That word. That voice. It cracked somewhere deep in my chest. I didn't like that.

"Don't apologize," I said, sharper than I meant. "Just don't die."

He tried to sit up, and instantly winced.

His shirt was scorched straight through, the skin beneath glowing faintly gold, like something ancient was still crawling beneath it.

"You're magic," I said, flat.

He nodded once, like he expected me to run now.

I didn't.

"You're cursed," I added.

Another nod.

"You're trouble."

This time, his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "And you're not afraid of me."

"No," I said. "But I should be."

Because I was still touching him. And I still felt him.

Not just the surface stuff. Not just fear or guilt or pain.

It was him.

Who he used to be. Who he was trying not to become.

He looked at me like he knew what I was thinking. Like I'd seen too much already.

"You're not like them," he said quietly. "You don't feel."

I opened my mouth to deny it.

Then I stopped.

Because he was right. Or… he was.

Until now.

"I'm Ariya," I said finally, standing.

He watched me like that name meant something. Like he wanted to memorize it.

"I'm Kael."

Of course he had a name like that. Short. Powerful. Tragic.

"Alright, Kael," I said, offering my hand. "You get one free pass because you're bleeding and tragic and the kingdom apparently wants you dead. But if you explode again, I'm leaving you in a ditch."

His fingers brushed mine.

And in that moment one second, one heartbeat something passed between us.

Not magic. Not heat.

Recognition.

Like something inside him sighed.

Like something inside me answered.

I pulled away too fast. Swallowed too hard. "Come on. We have to move."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere they won't find you."

"And why are you helping me?"

I glanced over my shoulder.

"You bled fire in front of me and didn't kill me," I said. "Might as well see how the story ends."

But even as I said it…

I knew this wasn't just his story anymore.

It was ours.

And one of us wouldn't survive the end