Eira's POV
The world ignited in silver light.
Snow evaporated in a hiss as dream-magic clashed with fire, colliding mid-air in a flash so bright Eira had to shield her eyes. The Dreamwalkers had not come to negotiate. They had come to sever.
Kael stood beside her, sword in hand, Mark pulsing beneath his tunic like a second heartbeat. Her fire pooled at her feet, rippling with tension as she readied another blast.
The lead Dreamwalker stepped forward, floating above the ruined ground like a spirit born of smoke and wind. Her voice was velvet and venom.
"You were warned, fireborn. The Thread is forbidden. To bind flame to frost is to risk the unraveling of the Veil."
Eira's hand twitched, heat bleeding from her fingertips.
Kael growled low, like a beast caged too long. "We didn't choose this bond. But you'll have to rip it from our bones if you want it gone."
The Dreamwalker raised a palm. From her fingers poured glowing threads of light, winding through the air like living silk. Magic of the ancient order. Magic meant to separate, unravel, break.
And they were aiming for her heart.
Eira whispered, "Kael—"
"I'm here."
He moved first.
Kael's POV
He charged before logic could stop him.
The bond buzzed beneath his skin, warning and power rolled into one. The moment he leapt from the ruined archway toward the Dreamwalkers, he felt Eira's fire rushing alongside him — not following, but mirroring.
She didn't hesitate either.
And together, they struck.
Kael's blade sang as it sliced through the arc of a glowing thread. It didn't cut like normal steel would. It seared. His hand jolted from the feedback of magic, but he kept moving. Behind him, Eira's flames lashed out like coiled serpents, burning every shadow the Dreamwalkers cast.
The second Dreamwalker retaliated, voice echoing in Kael's skull. "You dare defy the Order of Echoes?"
Kael snarled, "I dare everything for her."
A bolt of psychic energy hit him in the shoulder, throwing him sideways into a shattered column. Stone cracked. Pain bloomed.
But before the second bolt could reach him—
A wave of fire roared from Eira's hands.
It split the air like a dragon's scream, knocking the Dreamwalker back. Her veil caught flame. The illusion shattered.
She wasn't a spirit.
She bled like anyone else.
Eira's POV
Eira had never felt power like this.
It coursed through her veins in surges, not chaotic as it had always been — but focused. Sharpened. Like Kael's presence anchored her, guided her fire with sword-like precision. His pain echoed in her bones. When he'd been hit, her knees had buckled.
But now he was rising again.
And she was burning brighter.
She lifted her arms, calling to the flame deep beneath the ruins. There was old fire here — residual energy from the seer buried below, flame that remembered her bloodline.
Let me in, she whispered to the earth.
The flame answered.
A ring of fire exploded outward from her, rising in a perfect circle around her and Kael. The snow hissed into steam. The Dreamwalkers staggered back, shielding their faces.
Only the lead one remained unshaken.
Her voice deepened.
"So be it. You wish to wield the Forbidden Thread?"
Eira raised her chin. "It chose us."
"Then it will curse you."
The Dreamwalker flung her hand forward, and the world ripped.
Not physically. Not visibly.
But between Kael and Eira — in the space between their souls — something snapped taut, like an invisible thread being pulled to the breaking point.
Eira gasped.
Kael shouted her name.
The bond strained. Cracked.
And then—
It fought back.
Kael's POV
The pain was unbearable.
Worse than blade, worse than frostbite. It wasn't his body that hurt — it was his soul. Something was clawing at the bond, trying to sever it, but the magic refused to die.
Instead, it evolved.
Kael saw flashes: Eira as a child, her flames first lighting in her hands; Eira running barefoot through midnight fields; Eira alone, sobbing under a burned sky.
He felt her.
Her whole life.
Her whole heart.
And he knew, in that moment, that she had never been anyone's to love.
Only to fear.
Until now.
Until him.
Kael pushed to his feet and roared.
He surged forward, blade raised — but it wasn't just a sword anymore. The bond had infused it, light and flame and frost twisting along the metal.
The Dreamwalker's eyes widened.
Kael swung.
The blade cleaved through her spell. The force knocked her back into the snow, dazed.
Silence.
Eira dropped to her knees, clutching her chest.
Kael reached her in a heartbeat, falling beside her, gathering her into his arms.
The bond between them pulsed once.
Then stabilized.
They were still connected.
But something had changed.
Eira's POV
She couldn't breathe at first.
The magic had clawed at her lungs, her ribs, her very self. But Kael's arms anchored her. His hands in her hair, his voice in her ear, rough and terrified and real.
"I'm here. I'm here, Eira. Gods, stay with me."
Her vision cleared.
His face came into view.
And she did something she had never done in her life — something raw and reckless.
She kissed him.
Right there in the ruins, surrounded by steam and blood and ash, she kissed him like he was the last safe thing in the world. His lips tasted of iron and heat. His hands gripped her as if letting go might break the bond for good.
The kiss deepened.
Their Marks ignited again — not in panic, not in war.
But in acceptance.
He pressed his forehead to hers. "They'll keep coming."
"I know."
"They'll call us cursed."
"We are," she said. "But we're cursed together."
He smiled, crooked and bruised.
"I can live with that."
Kael's POV
They buried the dead Dreamwalker before nightfall.
The others had fled when their leader fell, magic unraveling behind them. They would return — Kael had no doubt — but for now, the forest held its peace.
They returned to the fire and sat side by side, too tired to do anything more.
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
He let her stay there.
"What did you see?" he asked quietly.
"In the dream?"
"No. When the bond snapped. When it almost broke."
Eira was silent for a long time.
Then: "I saw the world burning. But I wasn't afraid."
"Why not?"
"Because you were the only one who didn't run."
Kael's throat tightened.
"And you?"
"I saw myself," he said. "Not as a prince. Not as a Warden. Just… as a man who chose you. Even knowing how it ends."
She looked up at him, eyes shining.
"And how does it end, Kael?"
He kissed her forehead.
"With fire," he said. "But not destruction. Renewal."
They sat there long into the night, two cursed souls wrapped in one thread, waiting for the dawn that might never come.