The thorn crown

Kael hadn't said a word since the fever broke.

Not about the dream.

Not about the bond.

Not about how he woke up staring at me like he'd tasted sin and liked it.

I didn't push.

Because if I did, I might say something I couldn't take back.

So we packed in silence.

The mosswood outside was gray with mist, and birds didn't sing here. It was a place that didn't know softness. Or mercy.

I was halfway through tying my boots when I felt his gaze.

Sharp. Hot.

I didn't look up.

"You're quiet," he said, finally.

I tied the knot tighter than I had to. "So are you."

A pause.

"You felt it, didn't you?"

I froze.

The wind crept through the cave mouth. Cold. Waiting.

"Felt what?" I asked, too flat, too fake.

His boots crunched on the gravel as he stepped closer.

"You know what."

I looked at him then.

And instantly regretted it.

He looked like someone who hadn't slept in years. Haunted and hungry. Gold eyes dimmed, jaw tight.

"I didn't mean to," he said. "The dream. It...."

"Don't."

"Ariya"

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want to tear me apart and beg me to stay in the same breath."

He stopped. Dead still.

And in that silence, something shattered.

But neither of us moved.

Neither of us reached.

He dropped his gaze. His voice low. "We should move."

"Yeah," I whispered. "We should."

So we did.

We left the cave.

Left the almost behind.

But it followed us anyway.