The air in the cabin was different.
Thick.
Still buzzing with the heat of what she had seen. Of what she had felt.
Kael held her without speaking, her head buried in his chest, her hands still trembling from the memory.
"I remember," he said after a long moment. "I remember everything."
Aira looked up slowly, her lips parting. "You do?"
He nodded. "Rynan… that was my name. My first name. Before I gave it up to find you again."
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
"All this time," she whispered. "All those dreams… they weren't just fragments. They were warnings. Pieces of what we were. Who we still are."
His fingers lifted her chin. "We were always meant to find each other again. But this time, maybe we change the ending."
Their mouths met again—tentative, then deeper. Hungrier.
He kissed her like he was reclaiming something that had been taken. She kissed him like he was the answer to every question her soul had ever screamed into the stars.
Her fingers slid up under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. He groaned low, cupping the back of her head, pulling her closer until they were chest to chest, breath to breath.
"I need you," she murmured, voice breaking.
He pressed their foreheads together. "I've always been yours."
Clothes fell away—carefully, slowly. Each touch reverent, like they were worshipping the miracle of finding each other in this lifetime again.
Kael laid her down onto the bed, and the firelight painted them in gold and shadow. His hands explored her with aching gentleness, from the curve of her waist to the inside of her thigh. Her body arched toward him instinctively, their energy building like a wave waiting to crash.
When he entered her, they both gasped—not from pain, but from recognition.
This wasn't new.
It was ancient.
Every kiss, every thrust, every soft cry echoed from lifetimes ago. She wrapped around him like his body was the only place she'd ever belonged.
And when they reached the edge—together—it felt like time stopped.
It wasn't just their first time.
It was a return.
A reunion.
A promise sealed not in words, but in touch.