Kiss Of Thorns

The taste of Kael’s blood still sat sharp on Lyra’s tongue. She pulled back from the kiss with her lips swollen and her chest on fire. Soldiers stared from the walls. Some grinned. Others looked away fast like they had seen something sacred and deadly at the same time.

Power would not settle. It crackled under her skin like lightning trapped in a jar. Every heartbeat sent fresh sparks dancing across her arms. The stone beneath her boots groaned and split wider. She could not stop it.

Kael kept his hands on her waist. Heavy. Steady. His silver eyes looked drunk on her. “You kissed me back like you meant it.”

“I did.” The confession scraped out raw. No pretty lies left in her. “And I hate myself for it.”

He laughed low. The sound vibrated straight into her bones. “Good. Hate keeps you sharp.”

Below them the battlefield stank of shit and blood and opened bodies. Crows already circled. Wounded wolves dragged themselves away from the walls. Rowan’s forces had pulled back but not far. Campfires winked in the dark like angry eyes.

Lyra’s stomach rolled. She had ripped one of them apart with her own power. The memory played over and over. Fur. Screams. Wet meat. Her wolf licked its jaws at the recall and wanted more.

“I need to get down from here,” she said. Voice cracking.

Kael did not argue. He led her through the chaos of the battlements. Guards gave them wide berth. Her power left glowing cracks in the stone wherever her feet touched. One man got too close. A wild flare knocked him flat on his back. He did not get up quick.

Inside the palace the halls felt too tight. Torches hissed. Servants scattered when they saw her glowing hands. Mira peeked from a side door then vanished like a mouse.

They reached the eastern wing. The door slammed behind them hard enough to shake the frame. Kael turned and caged her against it. Not touching. Just close. Heat rolled off his body in waves.

“Talk,” he said. “Or scream. Or hit me again. But do not go quiet.”

Lyra shoved him. Hard. He barely moved. So she hit him again. Fist to the chest. Silver light burst between them and burned another hole in his shirt. The smell of scorched skin filled the room.

“You made me kill them.” Tears came hot and angry. “I was nobody. Now I am a monster who lights up like a fucking star every time I feel something.”

Kael caught her next punch. Pulled her flush against him. “You were never nobody. They lied to you. I will not.”

His mouth found hers again. Rougher this time. Teeth and tongue and zero mercy. She bit him back. Clawed at his shoulders. The power between them surged so bright the windows rattled. Somewhere in the room a glass pitcher exploded into shards.

They stumbled toward the bed. Clothes tore. Her tunic ripped at the collar. His armor pieces hit the floor with heavy clangs. Every touch fed the chaos. Her wolf rolled in it. Wanted his teeth on her throat. Wanted to mark him deep.

Kael broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. Breathing ragged. “Not like this. Not while you are still bleeding guilt.”

Lyra laughed. Broken sound. “Since when do you care about guilt?”

“I care about you not hating me tomorrow.” He stepped back. Shirt gone. Scars and fresh burns painting his chest. Marks she had put there. “The power bonds through touch. Through want. You are not ready for what that means.”

She wanted to argue. Her body screamed at the distance. Instead she sank onto the bed. Hands shaking in her lap. Silver light still leaking from her palms onto the sheets.

Outside another howl rose. Rowan. Closer than before. Lonely and furious and full of promise.

Kael walked to the balcony. Looked out into the night. “He will try again tonight. Under cover of dark.”

“Let him.” The words surprised her. “I will face him.”

Kael glanced back. Something like pride flickered across his hard face. “Then we face him together.”

A fresh wave of power rolled through her. Stronger. Meaner. It lifted the broken glass from the floor and spun it into a storm. Lyra cried out and curled forward. Pain stabbed behind her eyes.

Kael was there in a second. Arms around her. Pulling her into his lap on the floor. He took the worst of the blast into his own body. Muscles locked tight. A growl ripped from his throat but he held on.

“Push it back,” he snarled against her ear. “Or ride it. Your choice. But own it.”

Lyra screamed into his shoulder. Bit down hard. Drew fresh blood. The pain cleared her head enough to breathe. The glass storm dropped. Shards rained across the rugs.

When it passed she stayed in his arms. Sweating. Trembling. Blood on her lips that tasted like him.

“I am scared,” she whispered. First time she admitted it out loud.

Kael stroked her hair. Rough hand surprisingly gentle. “Fear is fine. Fear keeps you alive. But do not let it chain you.”

They stayed like that while the night grew thicker. Wounds open. Power humming between their skins. War waiting right outside the walls.

Somewhere in the dark Rowan prowled closer. And inside Lyra’s chest the old Lunar thing stretched wide. Hungry for blood. Hungry for the king holding her. Hungry for the war it was born to finish.