THE UNBROKEN

The ring buzzed with energy.

Alejandro adjusted his stance, feet pivoted in perfect form, sword steady as Niegal lunged toward him. There was something controlled about Niegal's movements, but raw- like a dam holding back a storm. Every strike was heavier than it should've been, every breath sharpened with an edge that hadn't been there before the war.

Alejandro grunted as he deflected another swing. "Still holding back?" he teased, stepping to the side, sword raised.

Niegal said nothing. His face was blank, unreadable, but his silver eyes gleamed.

On the edge of the training ring, Elena watched with a soft smile, her legs folded beneath her as she bounced her foot absently. It warmed her to see Niegal stronger each day, recovering, sharpening again like steel reborn. The serpent inside her stirred, content, pleased. She could feel it coil and rest beneath her skin like a cat in a sunbeam.

But then…

It happened.

So fast even the serpent lurched.

Elena's hand shot forward, body jerking upright. "Niegal!"

Alejandro barely had time to move. He swung wide to parry what should have been a moderate lunge, but Niegal didn't hold back.

He roared.

The machete struck Alejandro's forearm with sickening force. The SNAP-CRUNCH echoed through the courtyard. Bones buckled. Tendons tore. Alejandro screamed, crumpling to one knee, clutching his twisted arm to his chest with a sound that tore from deep inside.

Niegal didn't step back.

He growled.

Low. Deep. Animal. A sound not made by any man. His silver eyes shone, lit, with something else. His hair growing into a long, black mane with silver streaks. His hands, gods, his hands, curled into claws, his face morphing into the beast ripped from him by the Inquisition.

Elena's breath caught. The serpent hissed violently beneath her skin.

Niegal blinked- and the glow vanished. Just like that. His long hair remained, but his claws turned back into hands.

Horror dawned on his face. His lips parted in disbelief. He dropped the blade, clattering to the dirt as if it were cursed.

He ran.

For the first time since she had met him, Niegal ran away.

Alejandro was rushed to the healer's tent, half-conscious and groaning. Elena didn't speak. She followed the blood trail left in Niegal's wake all the way back to their cottage, the serpent writhing beneath her collarbones.

She found him in the far corner of the room, back to the wall, gripping his chest like he could rip the creature out of him with his bare hands. His breaths came in short, violent bursts. His knuckles were white.

When the door shut behind her, he turned sharply.

And growled.

Not like before. Worse. The kind of sound that came from deep in the belly of the earth. His eyes gleamed again, silver aflame, his chest rising and falling with barely restrained force. He changed into the near forgotten form of the Black Lion, unable to stop it.

Unfazed, Elena took a single step forward. "Mi Léon?"

His body twitched, fists tightening.

Another step.

The snake stirred. Protective. Possessive.

He lunged. Not with a weapon, but with everything he was. In seconds, he had her on the floor beneath him, one hand at her throat, the other pressed to the ground beside her. His lips hovered over her neck, hot breath searing her skin.

A hiss escaped her lips. Not in fear.

But in recognition.

For just a moment, his eyes flickered- real Niegal, her Niegal- surfaced beneath the beast. His voice cracked as he rasped, "Mi Doña… please… stop me."

But the serpent wouldn't.

And neither would she.

Her fingers twisted into his shirt. She pulled him down to her mouth and moaned into the kiss. Something ancient flooded her veins. Something starved.

She didn't feel human. Neither of them did.

What happened next… neither remembered clearly.

It wasn't them anymore.

They were flesh, yes…. but possessed. Consumed. Mounted by gods.

The storm of desire that took them left no space for thought, only movement, heat, hunger. She wasn't sure when her legs had curled beneath her or when he entered her from behind, but when she returned to herself-

She was kneeling. Back arched against his chest. His arms locked around her middle, holding her in place. Her hands reached behind her, gripping the back of his neck. They were both still.

Deep. Joined.

The serpent hissed in her ear, high and euphoric.

Niegal roared, chest heaving as he climaxed, buried in her.

Elena's eyes snapped open- she gasped, body shuddering.

Pain bloomed along her arms and hips. She blinked down at herself: fresh bruises. Her hands trembled. Her skin tingled where his claws had held her too tightly.

Niegal slowly pulled out, still breathing hard. His arms wrapped tighter around her, forehead pressed to her shoulder. His mouth trembled.

"Elena…"

She turned slightly. "I'm okay," she lied.

He picked her up, impossibly gently, and carried her to the bed, laying her down as if afraid she might shatter. His eyes were misting, returning to his human form.

"Mi Doña…"

She placed a finger to his lips, catching her breath. Her voice was hoarse.

"You must tame him," she whispered. "Or this… this will keep happening."

The serpent hissed softly. Yes.

Niegal fell to his knees at the side of the bed.

"This isn't me," he choked. "What's happening to me?"

She didn't have the answer. But she pulled him close anyway, guiding his head to her shoulder.

He clung to her and wept.

Wept like a man who had been possessed.

Wept like a man terrified of becoming a god.

The sun set slowly outside the cottage walls.

And still, he wept.