Zyra's breath came fast and shallow, her back pressed against the cold stone wall.
Kieran was too close, his body caging her in, his silver eyes watching her with that same unnerving intensity. His breath ghosted against her cheek, sending an unwelcome shiver racing down her spine.
"Shall I teach you what you really are, little star?"
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
Every instinct screamed at her to shove him away, to summon her fire, to do anything but let him see the way her body reacted to him.
But her magic… wasn't responding.
The golden flames that had burned so fiercely just moments ago had dimmed, swallowed by the thick darkness lingering in the air around them.
His magic.
Zyra clenched her jaw. "Get away from me."
Kieran didn't move. Instead, his lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smirk, wasn't quite a threat—but was something in between.
"If that's what you truly want," he murmured.
Then, just as suddenly as he had caged her in, he stepped back.
Zyra didn't move at first, her mind still catching up, her magic still flickering weakly against his suffocating presence.
A test.
Everything with him was a test.
Her hands curled into fists, but she forced herself to breathe, to steady herself before she spoke. "You've been watching me. Testing me. Pushing me." She met his gaze, unflinching. "But I don't think you expected me to push back."
Kieran's expression remained unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes—something dangerous.
"You don't understand what's coming, celestial," he said quietly. "You don't understand what you are."
Zyra exhaled sharply. "Then tell me."
For the first time, he hesitated.
It was a fraction of a second, a barely perceptible shift in his expression, but it was there.
And that told Zyra everything.
Kieran knew more than he was letting on.
Before she could press him further, a deep, echoing boom shook the chamber.
Zyra's head snapped toward the door. "What was that?"
Kieran's silver eyes darkened, all amusement gone in an instant. "Trouble."
Without another word, he turned, striding toward the door with swift, measured steps.
Zyra followed without hesitation, her magic simmering back to life.
As soon as Kieran flung the doors open, a soldier—the same one who had interrupted them earlier—was waiting outside, his face pale.
"My king," the man gasped. "It's begun."
Kieran's jaw tightened. "How many?"
The soldier's throat bobbed. "Too many."
A muscle in Kieran's jaw ticked, but his voice was calm, calculated. "Hold the outer walls. I'll deal with this personally."
The soldier hesitated. "And… the girl?"
Zyra bristled.
Kieran's lips barely moved as he said, "She comes with me."
Zyra narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
Kieran turned to face her fully. "Unless you'd rather sit here and wait to be captured, celestial."
Zyra crossed her arms. "I don't take orders from you."
His lips twitched. "And yet, here you are—following me."
Her temper flared, but before she could snap at him, another earth-shaking boom thundered through the air.
Zyra barely had time to react before Kieran grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward.
"Move," he ordered.
She didn't have a choice.
He led her through the stone corridors of his fortress, moving with swift precision, his grip firm but not painful. The further they went, the colder the air became.
Zyra could feel it now—the dark energy pressing against her skin, slithering through the air like unseen tendrils.
They reached an open balcony overlooking the city below, and Zyra's breath caught.
The sky was painted in unnatural hues—deep crimson streaked with swirling black mist, as if the heavens themselves had been wounded.
And below, past the fortress gates—
A horde.
Hundreds, maybe thousands, of twisted, shadowy creatures clawed their way through the landscape, their shrieks splitting the night air.
Zyra's stomach dropped.
"What in the gods' name—"
"The Forsaken," Kieran murmured beside her.
Zyra turned sharply to him. "You knew this was coming."
Kieran didn't deny it.
Her magic flared instinctively, golden fire licking at her fingertips. "And you weren't going to tell me?"
"There's nothing you could've done to stop it," he said simply.
Rage flared in her chest. "You arrogant—"
A horrifying screech cut through the air.
Zyra's head snapped back toward the battlefield. One of the Forsaken—a monstrous, twisted creature of bone and darkness—had spotted them.
And it was coming.
Zyra barely had time to react before the creature lunged, its claws slicing through the air—
Kieran moved first.
Faster than she could track, he threw out a hand, and the very shadows of the fortress rose up like a tidal wave, crashing into the creature before it could reach them.
The beast shrieked as the darkness swallowed it whole.
Zyra exhaled sharply.
But there wasn't time to process, because dozens more were climbing the fortress walls.
Her golden fire roared to life.
"I hope you have a plan," she muttered.
Kieran's smirk was deadly.
"I always do."
And then, with a single, commanding flick of his wrist, the battlefield erupted into chaos.
---