Chapter Twenty Four - In the Hollow of the Storm ( Kael's POV )

The rain had not stopped.

It came in sheets, relentless and cold, blurring the world into silver and shadow. The forest around them was a chorus of water and wind, the storm’s fury masking all other sounds. No pursuit, no voices. Only the storm.

Kael dragged driftwood into the hollow beneath a leaning rock face, his movements brisk and wordless. The small space smelled of earth and moss, the roof low enough that they had to stoop to enter. He struck flint to steel until sparks caught, coaxing a small fire to life.

The flames shuddered in the wind, but they held.

I stood just inside the hollow, rain dripping from my hair, my clothes plastered to my skin. My teeth chattered from the cold, but it wasn’t just that. It was everything, the running, the fight, the weight of nearly dying again. The prophecy.

Kael turned toward me. His golden eyes gleamed in the firelight, feral and haunted. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The space between us felt alive, stretched tight with everything we hadn’t said since the outpost fell.

He moved first.

“Take these off,” he murmured, his voice rough, the words scraping against something deeper. He reached for my cloak, his fingers trembling as he unclasped it. The soaked fabric fell to the ground with a heavy slap.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, but the lie broke halfway through. My body shook.

His hand rose, cupping the back of my neck. “You’re freezing.”

Maybe I was. But when he pulled me closer, the cold stopped mattering.

The heat of him hit like a second fire. His chest was bare now, his clothes discarded beside the flame. The scars that crossed his skin caught the light, pale lines that told stories I would never fully know. His pulse beat against my cheek where he held me, fast and unsteady.

“I thought I lost you,” he said against my hair.

“You didn’t.”

He exhaled, the sound ragged. “I could smell your fear. Feel it. It tore at me.”

I tilted my head back, meeting his gaze. “And yet you still walked into the fire.”

“Always.” His thumb brushed my jaw, slow, reverent. “You are the fire.”

Something inside me cracked then, something that had been held too tight for too long. The air between us turned molten. The storm outside faded to a dull roar, distant and unimportant. There was only this, his breath, my heartbeat, the fire flickering between us like it understood what was coming.

Kael leaned in until his forehead rested against mine. “Aria…” he breathed, my name a confession. “Every time I touch you, I remember why I fight.”

I felt the tremor in his voice, the quiet breaking behind his strength. The walls he built as Alpha, as protector, all of it stripped away in this small hollow in the woods.

My hands rose to his shoulders. The warmth of his skin under my palms sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with cold. “Then don’t stop,” I whispered.

He didn’t.

His lips found mine, not gentle but hungry, desperate. The kiss burned, the kind born from too many near, deaths and too much silence. His hand slid to the back of my neck, drawing me closer, and for a heartbeat, I forgot the world. Forgot the Council. Forgot the prophecy and the danger closing in.

There was only us, breathing the same air, holding on as if the night itself might steal us apart.

When the kiss broke, we stayed close, our foreheads pressed together, gasping.

“You shouldn’t love me,” Kael said quietly, voice thick with guilt. “Every path I take ends in blood.”

“Then I’ll walk through it with you,” I said. “Because I can’t live without you, Kael. I won’t.”

He stared at me for a heartbeat that felt endless. Then he kissed me again, slower this time, deep enough to hurt.

The fire cracked behind us, throwing gold light across his face. His hair clung to his skin, damp and dark, and his eyes, those bright, impossible eyes, held everything: rage, tenderness, devotion.

Outside, thunder rolled across the sky. The storm pressed close, the world shuddering around us, but within that hollow, time bent and softened. He brushed his lips down the side of my throat, lingering there, his breath trembling.

I could feel his restraint, the tension in every muscle. This wasn’t conquest. It was need. A need older than the prophecy, older than the Council, something wild and sacred, bound to the pulse of the earth and the beating of our hearts.

When his hand found mine again, he brought it to his chest, pressing it over his heart. “You hear that?” he murmured. “It’s yours. It’s always been.”

The words undid me. Tears I hadn’t realized I’d been holding broke free, slipping down my cheeks. Kael caught one with his thumb, his touch so tender it hurt.

He kissed me again, softer now, deeper, the kind of kiss that felt like a vow.

The firelight danced across the walls, throwing our shadows long and trembling. The rain outside softened, the storm, though the wind still howled through the trees. We sank together beside the flame, neither speaking. The heat of his body wrapped around me, his breath at my ear steadying what was left of my shaking.

“I can’t lose you,” he said quietly.

“You won’t.”

He hesitated, then rested his hand over my belly. The smallest smile touched his mouth, though his eyes were still dark with everything unspoken. “He’s strong,” he murmured. “Like you.”

“Or she,” I said softly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a faint laugh broke between us.

It was small. Fragile. But it was life.

Kael leaned back against the stone wall, pulling me with him until my head rested on his chest. His heartbeat drummed steady beneath my ear, matching the rhythm of the rain.

For a long while, we just breathed. The fire burned low, the glow soft and steady.

He spoke at last, voice barely more than a whisper. “When I was young, I used to think strength meant never needing anyone. That to lead, to survive, I had to stand alone.”

I looked up at him. “And now?”

“Now I know strength is what keeps you holding on even when the world tells you to let go.” His gaze dropped to mine. “And I’m holding on to you, Aria.”

The storm outside finally broke apart, the last threads of rain fading into mist. The forest exhaled, a deep, quiet hush settling over everything.

We stayed like that until dawn began to gray the sky. The fire had burned down to embers, glowing faintly. Kael stirred, brushing his lips over my temple.

“They’ll come again,” he said.

“I know.”

“But this time, they won’t find prey.”

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. There was no fear left there, only resolve, fierce and untamed. Whatever waited ahead, whatever the prophecy demanded, we would face it together.

Kael stood, pulling me to my feet. The forest was still dripping, alive with the hush that comes after a storm. The air smelled of wet earth and smoke.

He looked toward the horizon, where pale light broke through the trees. “They wanted to corner us,” he said softly. “Instead, they woke something they can’t kill.”

I took his hand, fingers lacing through his.

“Then let them come,” I said.

And together, we stepped out of the hollow, back into the wild.