Kael's POV
Steel rang against steel. Magic crackled like lightning in his veins. Kael's blade met the guard's halberd with a crash that sent sparks scattering across the polished stone floor. The grand hall of the Frost Throne dissolved into chaos—shouts, flashing blades, and the burning hum of fire meeting frost.
Eira was behind him. He could feel her—not just see her, not just hear her—but feel the bond between them pulse like a second heartbeat. She fought like a flame let loose from a cage, hands blazing, lips curled in fierce focus.
The guards weren't holding back. They didn't treat Kael like a prince returned. They treated him like a traitor. A threat.
And maybe he was.
Kael dropped low, spinning beneath a sweep of coldsteel. He came up hard, slamming the hilt of his sword into the guard's jaw. Another came at him from behind, but a pillar of fire intercepted, roaring between them and forcing the soldier to stumble back, blind and burned.
Kael glanced at Eira—eyes bright, hair lifting in the heat.
"You always this dramatic?" he called.
She smirked, even as her flames coiled outward in a deadly arc. "You love it."
He did. Gods, he did.
And that terrified him more than all the guards in this cursed place.
Eira's POV
She wasn't holding back.
They didn't deserve restraint.
The Frost Court had always seen fire as a threat to be smothered. Her people hunted. Her name erased. Her magic reduced to stories of destruction and madness.
But they had forgotten one thing.
Fire remembers.
And today, she was done forgetting.
Eira's hands burned white-hot, her Mark glowing like a live brand across her chest. The guards tried to circle, but she turned in place, a ring of fire spiraling outward to force them back. Every time Kael's sword moved, she moved with him. It was a dance now. Sword and flame. Rhythm and heat.
Until the flames began to die.
Her magic faltered. Her knees buckled.
Too many spells. Too fast. The cold of the citadel was gnawing at her power, draining her strength.
Kael saw it.
He fought toward her, cutting down two more guards to reach her side. He caught her as she dropped to one knee.
"I've got you."
She tried to nod, her vision swimming.
"We need out," he said, lifting her.
She managed one last burst of fire to clear the corridor.
Then they ran.
Kael's POV
He didn't think. Just moved.
Through winding halls, across icy balconies, down hidden stairs he barely remembered from childhood. He could hear footsteps behind them. Shouts. The hunt had begun.
Eira leaned against him, breath shallow, fire flickering along her arms like dying candlelight.
"There," he whispered, pointing to a service tunnel.
It led to the frost gardens—the only place he remembered being untouched by his father's presence. A memory struck him: his mother sitting on a stone bench, hands wrapped around a heated cup, eyes soft.
They burst through the doors, stumbling into the open garden. Moonlight reflected off frozen vines and glassy pools. No guards. Not yet.
Kael eased Eira down onto a bench, kneeling before her.
"You with me?"
She nodded weakly. "Still burning. Just... slower."
He pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around her. Then, unable to stop himself, he cupped her face and kissed her—slow and fierce and full of the fear he wouldn't speak.
Her fingers curled into his tunic.
"You'll freeze," she whispered against his lips.
"Better frozen than without you."
She laughed, barely, eyes gleaming. "That's a terrible line."
"You're beautiful when you're insulting me."
She kissed him again.
Eira's POV
The kiss wasn't fire.
It was warmth. Steady. Unmoving. The kind of warmth you could build a life around. She leaned into it, the frost garden around them quiet and still, like the whole court had vanished.
When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his. "We can't stay here."
He nodded. "There's an old frost path beneath the gardens. I used it as a boy to sneak away."
"Then we use it now."
She pulled herself upright, legs shaking. He helped her. Together they moved to the far end of the garden, where a crumbled statue hid a steel hatch beneath its base.
Kael pried it open.
The tunnel beyond yawned like a throat of black ice.
They descended.
Kael's POV
The passage was narrow and cold enough to bite skin. But it was safe. For now.
Kael guided Eira with one hand, his sword drawn in the other. Her breathing had evened, but her strength was still flickering.
The further they went, the more he remembered this place—not just the route, but the feeling.
Running from a father who never loved him.
Hiding his dreams of something else. Something warmer.
And now, finally, he was running toward something. Someone.
They reached the outer grate just before sunrise. He pushed it open to reveal a pine-covered ridge just beyond the citadel's perimeter.
Free.
Kael turned to Eira.
"We made it."
She nodded, her smile small and radiant.
Then her eyes darkened.
"Kael... behind you."
He turned.
Tharein stood at the tunnel's edge, flanked by two guards.
"You disappoint me, son," he said. "Again."
Kael stepped in front of Eira.
"I'm done trying to please you."
Tharein drew his sword.
"Then let's finish this."