Morning came slow and golden.
Ember stirred beneath Kael's cloak, half-reluctant to leave the warmth of his arms. His heartbeat under her cheek was steady, grounding. A reminder that for now, she was safe.
But safety, she knew, was temporary.
She slipped away from his embrace as dawn spilled over the stone floor. Kael didn't wake—at least, not until she reached the door.
"You always leave before I get the chance to kiss you properly," he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
She smiled. "Then catch me next time."
His grin was lazy, wicked. "Don't tempt me, Ember."
In the forge's war room, Rowan stood over a newly drawn map.
Pins marked outposts. Half were burning. Others were already gone.
Ember joined him in silence.
"We're losing ground," he said without looking up.
"We're gaining fire," she replied, eyes sharp. "That counts for something."
Rowan's gaze met hers—serious, unreadable. "Fire can burn both ways."
Before she could answer, the heavy doors opened with a clang.
A stranger stepped through.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Cloaked in green and silver. He moved like someone used to being watched—unhurried, unbothered.
His hair was dark, but streaked with copper at the ends. His eyes… gods, they were strange. Pale gold, like molten sunlight.
Rowan didn't hesitate. "Talon of Raesmere," he said. "Our newest ally."
Talon bowed, polite but cool. "And you must be the ember they speak of."
Ember arched a brow. "They speak of me?"
"Whispers carry. Even in the mountains."
Kael entered the room then, all heat and quiet tension. His eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Talon.
"You invited a Raesmeri?" he asked Rowan, voice tight.
"Raesmere is free now," Rowan said. "Talon led the rebellion that brought down their shadow court. We need his expertise."
Kael didn't look convinced.
But Ember… Ember was intrigued.
Talon's presence was magnetic—controlled, but undeniably powerful. Like someone who had seen the worst of war and survived it with dignity intact.
He looked at her again. "I've studied fire magic. I'd like to see what you can do."
Kael stepped slightly closer to Ember. "She doesn't need more eyes on her."
Talon didn't flinch. "Maybe not. But if she's the weapon we all hope she is, she'll need more than one sword at her back."
Later that afternoon, Ember found herself in the courtyard training yard, facing Talon.
Kael watched from the edge, arms crossed, clearly disapproving. But Ember had insisted.
Talon drew his dual daggers. "I'm not here to overpower you. Just… test your focus."
Ember nodded. "Don't go easy."
He came at her fast—graceful, smooth. Ember countered with a sweep of fire that hissed along the stone floor, but Talon sidestepped effortlessly.
"Not bad," he said. "But don't rely on beauty to distract your enemies."
Ember grinned. "It worked on you."
That drew a laugh—even from Kael, grudgingly.
But beneath the teasing, Ember felt it.
Talon wasn't flirting. Not truly.
He was watching.
Studying.
Not to find weakness—but to understand her strength.
That night, Ember lay with Kael again, tangled in breath and shadow and whispered touches.
But as she drifted to sleep, her mind flickered back to Talon's words.
"You'll need more than one sword at your back."
And for the first time, she wondered—
Would Kael's always be pointed away from her?
Elsewhere – The Flame King's Study
Tharos stood before the ancient mirror, watching the image swirl.
The girl—his daughter—faced two men now.
One bound in flame.
One carved of stone and sky.
He clenched his fists.
The Crown pulsed on its pedestal behind him.
"You can run, Ember. You can even love," he said, voice a growl.
"But you were born for ruin."