The city of Virell burned quietly.
Not in flame—Kael had learned long ago that fire was a blunt tool—but in whispers, closed gates, and the subtle bowing of heads as he passed. Power announced itself in many ways. Tonight, it breathed in the space people gave him.
Kael stood on the balcony of the governor's spire, the wind tugging at his dark cloak, the lights of the city spread beneath him like fallen stars. Somewhere below, soldiers were laying down their arms without a fight. Somewhere else, a bell rang to mark the end of an age.
He felt it then—the familiar stirring deep in his chest. Warmth. Pressure. A coiled promise of strength waiting to be claimed.
"So it's true," a woman's voice said behind him. Calm. Unafraid.
Kael turned.
Lady Seris of Virell had refused to flee when the city surrendered. She stood in a gown of midnight blue, silver embroidery tracing constellations across her body. Courtly rumors called her a diplomat, a patron of the arcane, a beauty who ruled with words rather than blades. Kael had learned better during the siege. Every move she'd made had been calculated. Every concession, a test.
"You've won," she said. "Without spilling blood."
"I prefer it that way," Kael replied. "Blood dulls what comes after."
Her eyes sharpened. She knew. Perhaps she had always known.
"You grow stronger when you conquer," Seris said softly. "But not just with armies."
The air between them thickened. Kael felt the warmth surge again, responding to recognition, to challenge. His gift—his curse—did not awaken through force alone. It demanded will. Consent. The moment when resistance turned into choice.
"Power taken by fear rots," Kael said. "Power given endures."
Seris studied him for a long moment. Then she stepped closer, the city lights catching in her hair. "And what would you ask of me, conqueror?"
Not submission, he thought. Never that.
"Stand with me," he said. "Not as a prize. As a force."
Something in her expression shifted—calculation giving way to something warmer, more dangerous. She reached out, fingers brushing his wrist, and the contact sent a pulse through him, sharp and intoxicating. The warmth in his chest bloomed, spreading through his veins like fire tempered by silk.
"Yes," she said, not to him alone, but to the path opening before them both.
Later, when the doors were closed and the night pressed close around the spire, Kael felt the change settle into him—new strength, subtle and vast, shaped by Seris's will and presence. The city of Virell was his now, but more than that, its queen had chosen him.
As dawn crept over the horizon, Kael looked out once more at the empire waiting beyond the walls. This was only the beginning.
There were other cities. Other thrones. Other women who would test him, challenge him, and remake him in ways he could not yet imagine.
And with each conquest—not just of land, but of hearts—he would become something the world had never seen.