Caelen's smirk lingered, molten cracks across his frame pulsing in rhythm with his ragged breaths.
He shifted his sword in one hand, golden light seeping from the fissures in his skin like a halo of fire, the fractured glow painting him in something almost divine.
"So, strategist," he drawled, tilting his head toward Eli, voice low, amused, "how do we start?"
'Ugh. I know he's going to give me hell for this, but this is the only solution I can see right now…'
Eli swallowed, his throat dry, but forced his tone steady. "We… stick together. For this to work, we can't separate. I don't have your speed or leg strength—if I move alone, I'll get hit before I can even dodge."
Caelen's brows rose, a spark of mischief flickering in his molten eyes. "Oh? What are you saying, then? You want me to carry you around… like Kairo did? My, you really are a pervert."
'I knew it.'
