Chapter 20
?──── Koen ? ────?
Her breathing is slow, and even now, the rise and fall of her chest brushes lightly against mine. Every time her head shifts against my shoulder, it’s like a quiet test of my will to see how still I can stay, how long I can pretend this is nothing more than a necessity.
But it doesn’t feel like just a necessity.
Her silken, impossibly soft hair spills across my arm, catching faint threads of moonlight from the cracks above. I can feel the warmth of her cheek through my leathers, and every beat of her heart is an echo in my own chest.
I should be thinking of the trial. About how close I’d come to dying, about the danger still ahead. Yet, all I can think about is how right this feels. Like something I’d lost, and finally found again.
I study the curve of her face in the dim light. The way her lashes rest against her skin, casting faint shadows. The way her lips part ever so slightly with each breath. She trusts me enough to sleep like this.
A sharp and uninvited pang hits me. I don’t even know why.
Maybe it’s because I know this moment won’t last. When she wakes up, she will pull away and throw her walls back up.
I’ll be just another champion in her eyes again.
For now…just for now, I let myself breathe her in, memorizing the weight of her against me.
Pretending, for one fragile heartbeat, that maybe she could be mine to hold.
I don’t even realize how much time has passed until the first rays of sunlight pierce through the cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. She stirs, her breathing shifting from the steady rhythm into something more aware.
I feel it before she moves, the subtle tension returning to her muscles, the way she begins to feel distant again, even though she is still in my arms.
Her lashes flutter, and then those violet eyes open—hazy with sleep, vulnerable, and unguarded. I want to freeze the moment, keep her here, keep her looking at me like this.
“Serenya—” Her name tastes heavier than it ever has before. She is already slipping from my hold, slow and careful as if afraid of waking something dangerous. She sits up and brushes her hair over her shoulder, her expression shuttering like a door slamming shut.
“We should get moving,” she says, voice quiet but firm.
“Wait—”
She doesn’t. She won’t. Her gaze flicks past me, not at me, the way people look when they don’t want to hear what you’re about to say.
I swallow the words I want to say to her, the ones that would be too much, too soon.
Instead, I follow her, every step forward feeling like she is putting more distance between us than the trial’s path ever could. But I can’t stop watching her, and I can’t stop remembering how it felt to have her in my arms, even if just for a little while.
I follow her through the cold, ankle-deep water. It isn’t rushing, just sitting there like a still, endless flood stretching in every direction. The air smells of wet earth and the faint rot of whatever plants had drowned here long ago.
Serenya keeps her gaze forward, her pace steady, like she could outwalk the memory of the night before.
Last night, somewhere in that quiet, something awoke inside of me.
I’m not sure when it started, but I’m falling for her.
What started out as a genuine offer to keep her warm turned into me realizing that maybe I’ve just been pretending.
But I don’t want to anymore. I don’t want to pretend her jabs don't secretly make me smile or that her glares don’t make my pulse spike.
I don’t want to pretend I dislike her when I know damn well I don’t.
However, this morning, when her eyes opened, the walls came back. She rolled away like the warmth had been nothing—to her, it probably was nothing—and slipped behind her armor again.
Now, every step we take is in uncomfortable silence.
I open my mouth once to say something. To tell her she doesn’t have to keep pushing me away. Before I can even get the words out, she cuts me off.
“Don’t,” she says, her voice quiet but sharp enough to stop me.
So I stay quiet.
The clouds overhead press low, thick and dark, smothering what little daylight there is. The water mirrors the gray sky, our ripples the only movement. It starts to drizzle, then a steady curtain of rain soaks us through in minutes. That’s when I spot the jagged shadow of a cave in the distance.
We don’t speak, just make our way to it.
Inside, it’s cooler but dry, the air still and smelling faintly of old smoke.
A ring of blackened stone marks where someone had once made camp.
Serenya moves toward the far wall, settling down with her knees pulled close, her hood pushed back, and the bottom of her dress soaked through.
I hate how she has to walk around in these flooded lands in a dress because she was in too big a hurry trying to save me and didn’t get a chance to change first.
I busy myself with the firepit, gathering what dry wood I can find and coaxing the flame to life. The light slowly grows, spilling over her face.
Removing my leathers, I tug my shirt off, then slip the leathers back on.
I hold my shirt out to her, and she hesitates only for a second before she removes her cloak and slips the shirt over her dress.
Taking our cloaks, I lay them by the fire to dry.
Then I sit down close enough beside her for our arms to brush.
Her shoulders stiffen. She doesn’t move away, but she doesn’t look at me either.
“Thank you,” she says, so quietly I barely catch it.
“I don’t want to keep playing this game,” I say, keeping my tone quiet, almost casual.
Her eyes stay on the flames. “What game?”
“The one where we pretend to hate each other. Where we trade insults like they mean more than they do.” I don’t know how she truly feels about me. Maybe she does hate me. Maybe she means every insult. I’m not sure. All I can do is hope I’m not alone in this.
She doesn’t say anything. The fire crackles between us, filling the silence she leaves.
I turn toward her then, letting my gaze take in the curve of her cheek, the faint shadows under her eyes, the way the firelight dances in her white hair. She must feel my attention because after a long moment, she turns and meets my stare.
The movement puts her closer than I expected. Close enough that the heat of the fire isn’t the only thing warming my skin. Close enough to see her freckles and the different shades of purple shimmering in her eyes, almost like stars.
“It’s strange,” I murmur, my voice almost lost in the sound of the rain outside. “It feels like I’ve known you much longer than I have.”
I see the moment she begins to shut down—her gaze goes distant, like she is slipping away somewhere far beyond reach. She pulls away, rising to her feet.
“You’re wrong,” she says, her voice small but firm.
“Wrong?” I ask, rising to my feet too.
Her eyes meet mine, and for the briefest moment, there’s something in them, like a flicker of tenderness.
But it’s gone before I can hold on to it.
“I haven’t been playing a game. I meant everything I said.
A few nice moments, and you think there’s something here, between us.
You are…” She falters, but when her eyes meet mine again, they’re hollow—empty.
“You are just another champion in these trials. Nothing more.”
It hits like a punch to the gut. Just like that, she says the one thing I didn’t want to hear. My heart feels like it was ripped right out of my chest. It shouldn’t hurt like this. Shouldn’t hurt at all. We barely know each other.
I search her face, hoping to find something, anything to prove I’m not alone in this. All I find is distance. Her eyes are vacant, like she’s not even here. She’s looking through me as if I’ve become a ghost in her world. Her mind has gone somewhere far away.
“Serenya?” I step toward her, a lump forming in my throat. I reach for her, but she flinches, her eyes snapping to mine with a terror I can’t understand. My hand hovers in the air, then falls to my side, powerless.
Without a word, she turns away, retreating to the far side of the cave, her movements stiff, like she’s retreating into herself. The small distance between us now feels like an ocean. She curls into a ball on the floor, facing the wall, and I stand frozen—wondering where her mind had gone.
I run a hand down my face, sitting back down and resting my elbows on my knees. I lean my head back against the cold cave wall, closing my eyes, but the pain in my chest won’t fade.
How could I have been so wrong? I could have sworn she felt the same. I mean, she came for me. That has to mean something, right?
I glance over at her again, longing to be even a little closer to her.
As I watch her, I can’t help but picture the dream I had the other night.
Her smile. Her laugh. The way she looked so alive and free.
The way her eyes were so full of light and love.
What would it be like to have her look at me like that outside of a dream?
What would it be like if she saw me, not as just another man competing for her hand, but as someone worth loving?
────────────? ? ? ? ?────────────
Serenya
The fire has burned low, embers glowing faintly in the dark. Koen’s breathing is slow and steady on the other side of the cave. I lay with my back to him, staring at the uneven stone wall, willing sleep to come . It doesn’t.
My mind keeps circling back to the way he’d looked at me earlier. Like he saw more than I wanted him to . Like he saw me .
I roll onto my back, staring at the shadows above—the air heavy with the scent of rain and smoke. Finally, I give up on sleep and slip outside.
The rain has stopped, leaving flooded ground that gleams under the starlight, reflecting the night sky back at me.
Above, the stars burn clear and bright, the same way they always have. The same way they had all those nights I’d sit with Kallan.
I sink onto a flat rock near the cave entrance, wrapping my arms around my knees. My throat already grows tight before I speak.
“I miss you,” I whisper to the sky, the words slipping out like a prayer I’ve said too many times. “More than I can ever say. And I’m trying—” My voice catches, thick with emotion. I take a shaky breath, trying to push through the pain. “I’m trying, Kallan. I really am—”
The words come out raw and broken. “But it hurts, and every time I think of maybe letting someone else in, it feels like I’m replacing you.”
“It was easier before,” I admit softly, my voice barely a whisper.
“When Koen and I were throwing insults and keeping our distance, pretending we didn’t care.
Now…he’s gone and ruined all of that. He wants to talk about feelings, he wants to get close, and it feels like too much —l ike I’m drowning, Kallan.
I don’t know how to let someone in again. ”
I close my eyes, resting my forehead against my knees.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for what I’ve become.
..I’m not the same person you knew and loved.
I’m not the same princess who once believed in something greater.
I’m…” I press a hand to my chest and fight to hold it together.
“I’m weak. Broken. Jaded. If you could see me now.
..” I let out a jagged breath. “I don’t think you’d even recognize me.
” Tears begin to fall. “But I don’t want to feel like this anymore.
I don’t want to keep pretending that I’m okay when all I feel is this endless ache, this—this emptiness that never leaves. I’m so tired of carrying it.”
I tilt my head back, looking up at the stars. “How do I let you go? How—how do I move on when you’re everywhere? When all of you is still inside my every breath, my every step?” I whisper. The night doesn’t answer, and the stars just keep burning in their distant silence.
I’m not sure how long I sit there, but when the last of my tears dries up, I stand and brush the dirt off my hands.
I linger a moment longer, staring up at the night sky.
I hear the rustle of leaves on a nearby branch.
When I look over, a bat is watching me. I turn back to the cave, not acknowledging him or the fact that he might have heard everything.
Saw me weak and breaking. I am momentarily relieved when I hear him fly off instead of following me.
Inside, the dim glow from the embers cast soft shadows across Koen’s face.
He looks different while he sleeps—younger, softer, without that guarded edge he wears when he’s awake.
I stand here for a moment, just watching him.
With the lines of his face more relaxed, his features look almost angelic in the firelight.
It catches me off guard. Something unsettling, yet undeniable, pulls at my heart.
He’s handsome. More than I ever wanted to admit.
His strong jaw, the way his hair falls slightly over his brow, and the way his lips twitch like he’s on the verge of smiling even in sleep.
I find myself wishing he could stay like this forever, untouched by the world.
There’s a part of me that longs to lie down by him. To breathe in the comforting scent of leather and woodsmoke that lingers around him, while he pulls me close. Tell him that I’m sorry. That I didn’t mean what I said, and he has never been just another champion to me.
Instead, I force myself to look away. Lying back down on the far side of the cave, I pray to any god that will listen, to have mercy on me and let sleep take me quickly.