Eira's POV
The fire had long gone cold.
Eira woke slowly, not to light, but to warmth — low, pulsing warmth that seemed to live beneath her skin. At first, she thought it was the aftermath of their bodies, tangled in the dark. The ache between her thighs, the imprint of Kael's hands still mapped along her hips and shoulders, the memory of breathless moans that were hers and not hers alone.
But then the warmth shifted.
And she realized… she was dreaming.
Except — it didn't feel like her dream.
The world around her was not the ruined hall of Dorvin's Reach. It was a forest of light — golden-leafed trees swaying in windless air, glowing with magic that pulsed like flame trapped in crystal.
She stood in a gown of fire-silk, sheer and weightless, barefoot, her Mark exposed and radiant across her collarbone.
And from the trees, he stepped into view.
Kael.
But not the Kael she knew.
This version of him wore no armor. No sword. His tunic was loose, white, open at the throat. His Mark blazed openly across his chest, his eyes molten with something far deeper than lust.
"Eira," he said.
Not a whisper.
A vow.
She moved toward him. She didn't mean to, but her body obeyed something deeper than thought. His arms were already reaching. She stepped into them, fit against him like shadow to flame.
And then… he kissed her.
Not a kiss of want.
A kiss of need.
She moaned into his mouth as his hands slid around her waist, drawing her tighter. Every inch of their bodies aligned — no barriers, no fear. His mouth was slow, purposeful, like he was trying to memorize her from the inside out.
The air around them shimmered.
The trees leaned closer.
And when he pulled away, his breath shuddered.
"I see you," he said. "Even here."
Kael's POV
He awoke gasping.
The ruins were dark again — the fire little more than a coalbed. His skin was damp, his body flushed, the blanket tangled around his legs.
But she…
Eira.
She was beside him, breathing steadily.
And yet — he'd just held her in a dream.
Not just held her. Touched her. Tasted her.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his racing heart.
It had been real.
Too real.
The dream had not been his own. He knew the feel of her magic now — the burn behind her kisses, the pull of her body, the heat of her breath. What he'd just lived through… was not a fantasy conjured by a restless mind.
It had been shared.
A side effect of the bond?
Or something worse?
Kael sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the makeshift bed. The sword rested against the wall, but tonight, it felt useless. Whatever force had pulled them together wasn't something he could cut down with steel.
He looked back at her.
Eira was still asleep — but her fingers twitched. Her brow furrowed.
Dreaming.
The same dream?
He reached out, unable to help himself, and brushed her shoulder.
Her eyes opened.
Wide. A little dazed. Lips parted like she'd just—
"Yes," she said softly, breathless. "It wasn't just you."
Eira's POV
They stared at each other in the dark, the truth stretching between them like a living thread.
"You were there," she whispered. "In the golden forest."
"You touched me," he said. "In ways we haven't—"
He cut himself off, voice thick.
Eira's cheeks flushed.
She sat up slowly, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. Kael's eyes dropped for a moment to her exposed skin, but there was no hunger in it.
Only wonder.
"I've read about this," she murmured. "In the old stories."
"About dreams?"
"About bonded pairs who begin to bleed into each other. Thoughts. Feelings. Nightmares. Even—"
"Desires," he finished.
She met his gaze. "This changes things."
"It already has."
The fire crackled beside them, as if in agreement.
Kael reached for her hand. She let him take it.
Their Marks glowed where their skin touched.
"We're not just connected anymore," Eira said, her voice trembling. "We're starting to merge."
He said nothing.
Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.
"I'm not afraid," he whispered.
"I am."
"Why?"
"Because the more I dream of you," she said, eyes wet, "the harder it will be to survive losing you."
Kael's POV
It would have been easier to lie to her.
To say that the bond was just magic, that the dreams were nothing. That he could protect her no matter what came next.
But he couldn't.
And she deserved more than a prince made of frost and denial.
So instead, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, her knees curling against his waist.
She fit there.
Perfectly.
She pressed her face into his neck. "I never meant for this."
"I know."
"Would you take it back?" she asked. "If you could?"
Kael was silent for a long time.
Then, quietly:
"No. I wouldn't."
She looked up at him. "Even if it destroys you?"
He met her eyes.
"I think it already has."
She kissed him again — soft this time, but aching with meaning.
And Kael knew, without question, that if fate demanded a sacrifice…
He'd burn the world for her.
Eira's POV
The next morning, she woke with Kael's arms around her, his breath at her shoulder.
But something had changed.
The forest was too still.
The ruins too quiet.
She sat up, senses sharp.
Kael blinked awake. "What is it?"
Before she could answer, a shadow moved across the snow outside.
Then another.
She rose quickly, pulling on her clothes, heart racing.
They had been found.
Not assassins.
Not soldiers.
Worse.
Dreamwalkers.
She recognized their magic — silver-threaded auras, eyes glazed with spirit-glow. Hunters of magical disturbances. Tracers of dream-energy.
The bond had drawn them like blood in the water.
Kael stood beside her, blade in hand.
"You said the bond could evolve," he murmured.
"It just did."
Three dreamwalkers stepped into the clearing.
And the leader, a tall woman with veils of shadow trailing from her shoulders, lifted a hand.
"Eira of the Third Flame. Kael of the Warden Line."
Her voice was not her own — it echoed like thunder in a cavern.
"You carry the forbidden thread."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Then come break it."
Eira didn't wait for the first spell.
She let her fire loose.
And the war of dreams began