Night came like a hush over the forest.
Kael lay against the inside wall of a hollowed-out tree, bandaged and still aching, but alive. A small fire crackled between moss-covered roots. Rain pattered faintly outside.
Ash snored softly nearby, tail twitching in his sleep.
Riven sat cross-legged beside Kael, sharpening her blade. Not because it needed it. But because she couldn't sit still.
He watched her in silence.
Then, quietly: "What kind of magic was that?"
She didn't stop sharpening.
"My mother taught me," she said. "Before she died. It's not Circle-sanctioned. Not even outlawed. Just... forgotten. It doesn't take from the forest. It gives."
Kael frowned. "What do you mean?"
Riven looked at him then. Really looked.
"It's called Threadbinding. It doesn't command nature. It connects to it. To people. It heals only if there's a bond worth healing."
He stared. "So you couldn't have saved me… unless you felt something?"
Her jaw tightened.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
She dropped the blade and leaned forward.
Kael met her halfway.
The firelight flickered between them, casting shadows over skin and scar.
"I'm not good at this," she whispered.
"At what?"
"Caring. Letting people matter. Every time I have, it's ended with betrayal or blood."
Kael's voice dropped. "Then why are you still here?"
"Because when you looked at me," she said, "you didn't flinch. Not when I killed. Not when I broke. Not even when I bled for you."
He swallowed hard.
"I flinched," he said softly. "I just didn't run."
Riven smiled—small, crooked, devastating.
Then she reached out and touched his bare chest, just over the wound she'd closed. Her fingers hovered, reverent. Tender.
"Every part of me says I should leave," she murmured. "Before I want you too much."
"And what's stopping you?"
"You."
Silence.
Not tense.
Charged.
Kael lifted his hand, fingers brushing hers.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
He didn't kiss her. Not yet.
But their faces were close enough now that every breath felt shared. Every second stretched.
He whispered, "When I kissed Lyra, it felt like worship. Like chasing something perfect."
Riven tilted her head.
"And me?"
Kael's voice dropped to a murmur. "You don't feel perfect. You feel real. And I think I need that more."
Her lips parted slightly.
She didn't close the distance.
But she didn't move away either.
Later that night, after they'd both drifted into uneasy sleep, Kael woke to feel her shift beside him. Her body slid closer. One arm wrapped over his chest.
A small, quiet comfort.
He didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Just… held it in.
That impossible, indescribable moment.
Of being wanted.
And not for what he was supposed to become…
…but for who he already was.