Chapter 12 Kieran #2
We sat across from one another on the floor. I rested my arm on my crossed legs, and his hand closed around my wrist, firm and familiar. He studied the open space along the inside of my arm for a long moment before going to work.
His movements were precise, methodical. Two half-runes took shape beneath his touch, their opposing lines twisting into something that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow did. I couldn’t look away. The artistry of his work was beautiful.
When he finished, the marks shimmered faintly, then bloomed with a soft golden light. None of the others had glowed before. My pulse jumped, a spark of hope cutting through the exhaustion.
Then the heat came as fire rippled beneath my skin. I bit my tongue, forcing myself to breathe through it, to accept it.
Steele’s voice was a soothing whisper. “Stay with it. Let it move through you.”
A slow, cool pressure built along my arm, spreading beneath the skin in a steady rhythm. The connection between us thrummed, alive and familiar, like the first night he’d carved a rune into my skin. For a heartbeat, it felt right—balanced—as if the stars themselves had paused to watch.
Then the current buckled.
Light flared too bright, too fast, the glow from the rune on my arm collapsing inward, as if his power had turned against me.
The air turned sharp and burning, like my skin was being stripped open from the inside out.
Power surged through me in a violent wave of heat and light, and pain tore so deep I folded in on myself with a strangled cry.
“Steele!”
He was on me instantly, fingers brushing over the ruined rune before pulling me against his chest. The scent of blood filled my nose, metallic and sharp from where I’d bitten down on my tongue.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Princess,” he apologized, voice rough and trembling with restraint. His expression was dark, tight with frustration. “I thought that one would be different. I thought it would hold.”
Around us, my men had already started jogging over to see what happened. Even Noah had stood to cross the room. Concern and fear were painted on their faces, so I rushed to reassure them and Steele.
“I’m fine.” The words came out rough, but I meant them. My skin still burned, yet the echo of the rune almost working still pulsed through me. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
I knew it wasn’t convincing any of them, and when I turned my attention back to Steele, I could feel them hovering nearby.
“It tried to take,” I murmured, meeting his gaze. “You felt it, Steele. We’re getting somewhere.”
He shook his head, frustration shadowing his features before spilling into uncharacteristic rambling. “You call that progress? You’re shaking from the pain. We have to stop training like this. It’s not worth it, and you’re getting hurt—”
I caught his wrist before he could stand. “Do not start treating me like glass.”
The plea and command in my voice stopped him cold.
“That’s one of the things that drew me to you.” I said, holding his gaze as we stood, my hand still wrapped around his wrist. “You never looked at me like I’d break. You pushed me to think sharper, fight harder, stop hiding from what I am. Don’t start now.”
Steele’s jaw clenched so hard I worried it might shatter. “Kieran, you can’t say that to me when I’m the fucking reason you’re hurt and bleeding now.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You’re trying to save me.”
I let the words land before pushing harder. “You didn’t coddle me back in the Rebellion camp. You pushed me through sparring and obstacle runs until I could fight confidently. You made me stronger by not holding back. Do that now. I need you to push, not hold back.”
Anger tightened his features, but beneath it was fear, desperate and unguarded. Steele’s voice came out sharp, every word clipped. “Princess, I can’t. I won’t lose you.”
My eyes widened and my heart squeezed as he clenched his hands down at his side.
“When we were training and when I pushed you, you weren’t in real danger. This—” he swallowed, the edge in his voice roughening, “—this is different. If I don’t figure this out, you die. That possibility isn’t one I can accept.”
So this wasn’t about pain or training. It was about losing me. About the fear that no matter what he did, whether he got it right or hurt me trying, it would still end in failure.
My throat tightened with everything packed into his words, a warm, fierce rush of affection washing through me as his gaze held mine.
I couldn't shape the right words, so I let the touch speak instead, my palm flat against his forearm, fingers splayed so I could feel the steady beat beneath his skin.
I forced my voice even. “You won’t lose me but you have to do this. If you hold back, we’ll never figure this out. I’d rather bleed than sit here pretending we’re safe.”
He exhaled slowly, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. “You’re infuriating when you’re right.”
“Comes with the job description as the person who is supposed to save the world.”
That earned the faintest pull of a smile. Steele held my gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable but softer. “Tomorrow,” he said at last, his voice lower. “We’ll try again.”
I nodded and felt a small spark of hope settle through the ache in my chest. The runes might have failed, but we were getting closer. I had to believe that.
I didn’t hesitate to step into Steele, wrapping my arms around his torso and resting my head against his chest. His warmth sank through me, steady and real.
Steele wasn’t one for open affection outside the privacy of our bedroom, so the quiet satisfaction that came when he tightened one arm around me and the other slid up to the back of my neck in a possessive hold sent something unguarded pulsing through me.
In that moment, I wanted to tell him everything—what this meant to me, how hopeful it made me feel that he was determined to figure this out with me, how seen I felt under the weight of his belief that I could be pushed and still survive it. I wanted to say all of it.
Unfortunately, our peaceful silence didn’t last.
A vibration rolled through the stone beneath my feet, subtle at first, like distant thunder rising from below. Steele’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing, every line of his body going tense. I opened my mouth to ask if he felt it too, but the ground shuddered again, harder this time.
A deafening boom followed, shaking the Placement Hall.
The glass ceiling shattered with a deafening crack, shards raining down in a storm of glittering fragments.
Steele moved before I could react, his hands covering my head as he shouted for everyone to get down.
His wings unfurled, a broad shadow folding over us, and I curled my own wings up to brace beneath his, providing extra protection over our heads.
I threw my arm over my face as stone groaned beneath us, the floor shifting from the blast of power that echoed through Alfemir.
The air roared with impact, glass striking against his shoulders as his frame shielded me from the worst of it.
My heart hammered, fear spiking that one of those shards would impale him.
When the last of the glass settled, the hall fell into a tense, echoing quiet. My ears rang in the sudden silence. “What was that?” I shouted, my voice louder than I meant it to be.
When I lifted my head, Ronan had already summoned a shadow dragon, its wings spread wide over Gabe and Niz. Bastian stood nearby, a blood shield arched above him and Noah, the crimson barrier dissolving into droplets that fell in a perfect circle around them.
Steele shifted beside me, and that’s when I saw it—a deep cut along his forearm, blood tracing a line toward his wrist. Panic flared, but before I could reach for him, he brushed away the shards with a quick, practiced motion.
“It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” he said, voice low and steady.
I wanted to tell him it didn’t matter. That it didn’t matter how many times he’d dealt with it before…but I also knew I was being a hypocrite. I’d told him not to make a fuss over my wounds, and yet the mere thought of any of them getting hurt tightened my chest in a way I couldn’t ignore.
Noah nodded toward the doors, voice clipped. “It’s coming from outside.”
We moved quickly, cutting through the training yard toward the front doors. Another vibration rolled through the ground—steady, rhythmic, pulsing like a heartbeat. I had no idea what was causing it, only that it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
Before we could reach the doors, they burst open. Archangel Astor and Shrue staggered inside, wings folding against their backs and breaths harsh and fast, faces drawn with panic.
“Thank the Creator,” Astor panted through heavy breaths. “We were heading over here to ask for help coordinating with the wyverns—never mind that now. We need to get to the castle.”
“What’s going on?” Gabe asked, his voice thick with concern.
Shrue’s expression tightened, eyes wide with shock. “It…it manifested right outside the castle.”
“What did?” I demanded sharply.
“A Dominion.”