She had heard his voice.
He hadn't spoken her name.
He had murmured another's.
And it made her burn.
Caelia didn't sleep.
She meant to.
She sat near the broken arch, rain misting her pauldrons, whispering rote prayers from the Seventh Oath in her mind.
But the words were hollow, like chalk on a wet wall. They dissolved before they reached the soul.
Her gaze drifted—again—to the fire.
...mine.
______
The next day.
Zeraka was injured.
It shouldn't have been possible.
She is a beast of a demon lord.
But there she sat, wincing as she adjusted her cracked armor, the faint line of blood visible through a torn seam near her ribs.
"That forest ward was stronger than it looked," she muttered.
"Should've smelled the sanctified binding. I was too fast."
Rein crouched beside her.
His shirt was half-undone, his expression tight with focus—not anger, not panic.
Just concern.
"I told you not to take it head-on."
"You told me to wait," she replied, flinching as she peeled the cloth away.
"I don't wait."
"And now you're bleeding."
"A little bit."
"It's always 'a little bit' until it festers."
Zeraka grunted.
But she didn't move away when his gentle hand came forward with the damp cloth.
He touched her.
Not clinically. Not distantly.
But with real care.
His fingers brushed her side, slow and precise, dabbing a bitter salve along the edge of the wound.
She hissed, teeth bared—but not at him.
And not once did he flinch.
Not from the claws, or the growl in her throat, or the fact that she could have torn him in half with one hand, or behead him with one bite.
"You always do this?" she muttered. Her eyes locked on him "Fix things that hurt?"
"Only when I care."
He didn't even realize what he'd said.
But she did.
She stared at him for a second. Not with her usual lazy smirk.
Not with the predator's grin she wore in battle.
But with something closer to awe.
Something rare.
Something fragile.
Then she moved.
Leaned in.
Rein's face lifted at the shift.
And she kissed him.
Not with heat.
Not to stake a claim.
But softly.
Unbelievably soft for a predator like her.
Like she was tasting a life she'd never believed she could have.
Like he was something she didn't deserve—but wanted anyway.
Rein didn't freeze.
Didn't retreat.
He kissed her back.
Brief.
Gentle.
Like it was natural.
Like he'd done it before.
Caelia's eyes caught it all.
She turned away.
Fast.
Something dropped in her chest, heavy and sick.
She wasn't sure if it was betrayal, or shame, or desire twisted into something unrecognizable.
She stood.
The rain thickened around her as she walked out into the trees, each drop striking her like an accusation.
She didn't stop until the sounds of the camp were gone.
Then she hit the tree.
Hard.
Fist-first, gauntlet cracking bark.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Until the pain registered.
Until her breath caught.
"You said you sent me to bind him," she hissed to the gray heavens. "To stop this. To stop him."
"You didn't say he'd be kind."
"You didn't say he'd feel right."
She sank to her knees in the mud.
Her cape soaked through.
Her oath-mark etched in gold at her collar was shining faintly in the wet, like it was mocking her.
"He shouldn't have kissed her like that."
"He shouldn't have looked so... warm."
Her voice cracked.
"He shouldn't make me want to be the next one."
She was shaking.
And it wasn't the cold.
She returned to the ruin soaked, trembling, eyes too wide.
The fire had dimmed.
The others rested near Rein, draped around him like ribbons—Zeraka half-curled against his chest, tail flicking in her sleep.
Valaithe had claimed his thigh as a pillow again. Elaris sat nearby, her blade across her knees.
Only Rein was awake.
And he saw her the moment she stepped back into the light.
"Caelia?"
His voice was soft.
No judgment.
That was the worst part.
"You were gone a while."
"I needed… space."
"You alright?"
That did it.
"No," she snapped, stepping forward. "I am not alright."
Zeraka stirred.
Her gold eyes opened, one hand twitching near her hip.
Valaithe didn't sit up, but her smile faded.
Even Elaris looked up now.
But none of them moved.
Only Rein.
He stood, slowly, keeping his hands visible. No threats. No armor.
Just him.
"Talk to me."
She laughed.
Bitter.
"Talk?"
She marched up to him. Stopped a few feet away.
"I was sent to bind you. Do you even know what that means?"
"I think I can guess."
"No. You don't."
She pointed toward the fire.
"It means this doesn't happen. It means I was supposed to stop whatever… whatever this is."
She was breathing hard.
Rain dripping from her fingertips.
"I was supposed to stop you from seducing her. From… corrupting her."
"Zeraka?"
"All of them."
Her hand trembled.
"You let them love you."
"I never asked them to."
"You didn't have to."
Her voice broke.
"They fall around you like stars—and you just… let it happen."
Rein took one step closer.
"You think I wanted this?"
"Yes!"
She bit her lip.
"No."
She hated herself for that second answer.
"You're not even trying to lead them," she said, quieter now.
"You just… exist. And it works."
She looked up at him.
"That's what scares me."
He tilted his head.
"What scares you more? That they want me?"
"Or that you might want them back?"
She looked away.
Didn't answer.
He exhaled. Stepped within reach.
Didn't touch her.
Didn't say her name like a priest or a prophet.
Just said, "I never asked you to fall."
"And if I do?" she whispered.
He paused.
Then, "Fall honestly."
She turned.
Didn't walk away this time.
Just stood there, rain dripping from her armor, eyes closed.
And for the first time…
She didn't feel like a knight.
She felt like a woman surrounded by monsters—
And terrified she wanted to become one too.