Chapter 87: Flames Between Us

Serena rose with the first light of dawn, her body still humming from the memory of Elias’s touch. The kiss had opened something in her—something she hadn’t known she’d been keeping caged. She felt raw, exposed, and alive.

But this morning wasn’t for Elias.

It was for Theron.

She stepped into the forest, the scent of damp earth grounding her as her feet carried her toward the training grounds. Theron had been there since before sunrise—she felt it in her bones. The pull between them was impossible to ignore.

And there he was.

Bare-chested, sweat gleaming on his skin as he struck at the wooden training post, fists wrapped in cloth. The taut lines of his body moved with practiced precision, but there was violence in his strikes—a man battling more than just his reflection.

He didn’t stop when she arrived.

Serena stood silently, letting the sound of his fists fill the air between them.

"You kissed him," Theron said finally, without turning.

Serena flinched, not expecting the bluntness.

"I did."

He let out a dry chuckle and slammed his fist into the post again. "I felt it. Like a wire pulled too tight inside my chest.”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

He turned, breathing hard. His eyes were molten gold, jaw clenched. “You don’t have to explain it. I’m not entitled to you.”

“No,” she said carefully, “but that doesn’t mean I want to hurt you either.”

Theron crossed the distance between them in three steps. Not touching her. Just standing there, looking at her like she was the storm and the stillness after.

“Do you still love me?” he asked, voice low, desperate.

Her heart cracked. “Yes.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “Then why do I feel like I’m losing you?”

Serena’s throat tightened. “Because… I think part of me wants to let go.”

He blinked as if she'd struck him.

“I don’t say that to be cruel,” she added quickly, “but to be honest. We’ve spent years pretending we were the same people. That we could pick up where we left off. But we can’t.”

“I can.” His voice cracked. “I’m still yours, Serena.”

“But I’m not still the girl who only knew how to love one way,” she whispered. “I’ve changed. You’ve changed. And love can’t survive if we keep pretending nothing happened.”

Theron reached out then, hand brushing her cheek. The gesture was tentative, reverent.

“You’re right. We’ve both changed,” he murmured. “But some things haven’t. Like the way your skin feels under my fingers. Like the way your eyes still look at me like you can see past the monster.”

Serena shivered.

“I still remember every sound you make when you’re mine,” he whispered. “Every tremble of your lips. Every moan.”

“Theron—”

He closed the gap, capturing her lips in a kiss that was wild and broken. It wasn’t gentle like Elias’s. It was fire—sharp, hungry, a plea wrapped in possession.

And damn her, her body responded.

She kissed him back, her hands fisting in his hair, her back hitting the tree behind her. His mouth trailed down her neck, nipping at the skin that still remembered him too well.

But just when heat began to pool low in her belly, she pulled away, gasping.

“We can’t,” she said, breathless. “Not like this.”

His eyes were wild. “Why? You still want me.”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Gods, yes. But wanting and choosing aren’t the same.”

He stepped back, panting. “You’re going to choose him.”

“I haven’t chosen anyone yet.”

“But your body’s confused. Your heart’s torn,” he said bitterly. “And I’m just here—waiting for you to stop craving both.”

She winced.

Theron sighed and turned away, running a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“No,” she said softly. “But I needed to know. And I think… so did you.”

He turned back to her, pain carved into every line of his face. “So now what?”

“I don’t know.” She swallowed hard. “But I think we both need to stop treating this like it’s just about who ends up with me. It’s about who I want to become. And I can’t figure that out if I keep letting you both pull me in opposite directions.”

Theron stepped closer again, brushing his lips against her forehead. The kiss was tender, full of longing. “Then become her. I’ll be here when you do.”

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes.

And when she walked away this time, he didn’t follow.

Later That Night

The fire crackled in the center of camp. Serena sat beside Elias, her hand in his. He hadn’t asked questions. He didn’t need to.

He could read her silence.

“You don’t owe me explanations,” he said quietly.

“I want to give them anyway.”

He nodded, turning to face her.

“I kissed him,” she admitted. “And I meant it.”

“I know,” he said. “It doesn’t scare me.”

She looked at him, surprised.

“I’m not afraid of what you felt,” Elias continued. “I’m only afraid you’ll forget what you feel when you’re with me.”

Her chest tightened.

“I don’t forget,” she said, voice trembling. “I can’t. You make me feel seen in ways I didn’t know I was invisible before.”

His eyes softened, thumb brushing her knuckles.

“I don’t know how this ends,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to walk through it pretending I’m not falling for you too.”

He smiled then, slow and warm. “Then fall.”

He leaned in, and she met him halfway, the kiss tender but deep. Her arms circled his neck, drawing him closer. When he eased her back against the blanket laid out by the fire, her heart pounded.

Elias kissed her like she was the beginning and end of every chapter.

She gasped when his hand traced along her waist, fingers burning against her skin. And still, he didn’t rush. His lips worshipped her, every movement deliberate. This wasn’t possession.

This was promise.

When they parted, breathless and tangled, she looked at him and knew—this was real. No prophecy. No ancient bond. Just them.

She buried her face in his shoulder, and for the first time in days, she felt peace.

But deep in the forest, under the gaze of a blood-red moon, something stirred.

The war wasn’t over.

And neither was the choosing.