The storm had been gathering for far longer than Kael cared to admit.
But now, standing on the edge of the cliff, it loomed closer, imminent. The darkened sky churned above him, a void so deep it swallowed the light, and the wind screamed like a thing alive—twisting, contorting, writhing as if it were a part of the earth's agony. Beneath his feet, the ground trembled with the weight of what was to come.
Kael didn't move.
He had long since grown accustomed to waiting in the shadows, letting the world shift and bend while he remained still, a rock in the face of a storm. But this time, there was no comfort in the stillness. His bones were cold, his heart cold, his mind too full of the things that didn't want to be known.
He didn't fear the coming storm. What terrified him—what made his blood run colder than the freezing winds—was the woman who haunted his every thought, who burned through him like the sun's last light before the blackened sky swallowed it whole.
Elyra.
She had always been a part of him, her fire a constant flicker beneath his skin, a hunger that had never been sated. He could feel her now, as sure as the storm that twisted above them—every inch of her, her scent, her warmth, her presence, even when she wasn't near. Her absence had become a void, a silence too loud to ignore.
But there was no comfort in that fire anymore. There never had been.
He had never wanted to feel the things he did for her. And yet, it was a hunger he couldn't escape. A hunger that, no matter how much he fought it, grew.
Kael turned his face toward the black sky, the storm above his head echoing the fury that gnawed at his insides. The roar of the wind screamed against his ear, as if mocking him for every moment he had failed to break free. His fingers curled into fists, the sharp bite of the cold biting into his skin. The world was waiting. And so was she.
But when he heard her approaching, he did not turn. Not yet.
Elyra's presence pierced through him like a thousand daggers, but it was no comfort. He wasn't sure whether he was grateful for her absence in this moment or if the yearning for her was consuming him alive. She stepped closer, but even her approach carried the weight of the unknown. Her steps were silent, but her power—her presence—roared louder than anything the storm could offer.
"You've been silent," her voice slid through the air, a haunting whisper that seemed to echo within him, even before the words left her lips. Her words were sharp, cutting, as always. But beneath that sharpness, there was something else. A hunger, like his. A fire that burned too bright to ignore.
Kael's voice rasped through his clenched jaw. "I don't need your words right now, Elyra." The words came out broken, jagged. The silence between them was a knife, slicing through the air.
And still, she closed the gap.
"You don't get to control this anymore," Elyra whispered, her voice now as dark as the world around them. Every word burned through him. The air between them crackled with an intensity that felt like it would ignite at any moment. She stood too close, and Kael felt the heat of her, a flame that he could never extinguish, no matter how hard he tried. The fire in her eyes was dangerous, deadly.
She wasn't the Elyra he had known. She was the storm, the fire, the darkness. And it terrified him.
Elyra reached for him, her hands like ice, but her touch burned, searing him from the inside out. Her fingers grazed the side of his face, and it was as though a thousand knives had pressed into his skin. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he was paralyzed, unable to pull away. He hated the way her touch made him feel—made him want—the way her flames licked at the walls he had spent so long constructing. He was breaking. She was breaking him.
The sound of her voice broke the silence again, the words a deadly promise.
"This is our fate, Kael," Elyra murmured, her lips just a breath away from his ear. "I've already walked this path. You're just too afraid to follow me."
She was right. She had always been right.
Kael turned slowly, his chest constricting in ways he couldn't explain. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. It was like she was suffocating him from the inside out, and the worst part was, he didn't want her to stop.
His eyes met hers, the darkness in her gaze a mirror to the void inside him. This was it. The abyss that had been growing between them—the thing neither of them had spoken about until now—had finally reached its breaking point.
"You think I'm afraid of you?" Kael's voice was low, guttural, a growl that was too close to the truth. The storm howled in response, its fury a reflection of the chaos tearing through him.
Elyra's eyes glinted with something dangerous, something dark and irrevocable. She smiled, but it wasn't a smile of joy. It was the smile of someone who had already accepted the inevitable. "You're afraid of this," she said, her voice dipping into a deadly whisper. "You're afraid of what we could be together. Of what you could become. And you know it."
He didn't speak. He couldn't. Her words cut deeper than any blade. She was right. He was afraid. Terrified. And yet, every part of him wanted to step into the darkness with her. Every part of him yearned to fall into the fire she held in her hands. To be consumed.
But no—he couldn't.
"You're wrong," Kael spat, but his voice lacked conviction. He had no choice but to face the truth of it—he was terrified. But it wasn't of her. It wasn't the fire, the fury, or the darkness that made him recoil. It was the loss. The devastation that followed when they both inevitably destroyed each other.
He couldn't do it. Not again. He couldn't lose himself. Not to her. Not to this.
And yet, when she kissed him, the world shattered.
Her lips were as cold as the storm and as hot as fire, and when they met his, the chaos that had been threatening to tear him apart was nothing compared to the force of the explosion between them. The kiss was brutal, savage—an annihilation of everything he had ever been. He responded in kind, his hands pulling her closer, dragging her into the void with him. Her flames scorched him. His fists clutched at her, desperate for something he didn't understand.
It was nothing and everything.
When they pulled apart, gasping for breath, the world felt different.
He couldn't escape her. He couldn't escape the fire, the rage, the truth that was burning inside him, consuming him. But he would have to.
Because if he didn't, they would both burn in the flames they had ignited.