The summit ended in silence-but the air buzzed with unspoken threats.
Evren stormed out first.
Kaelion followed.
He found Evren in the training yard, striking at a dummy with wild, angry swings. His knuckles bled. His face was tight with emotion.
"You said that in front of the whole court," Evren snapped without turning. "You made it sound like I belong to you."
"You do," Kaelion said.
Evren whirled around. "Excuse me?"
Kaelion didn't move. "You belong to this alliance. To this court. To the peace we're barely holding together."
Evren's breathing was uneven. "Then why does it feel like it's about more than that?"
Kaelion said nothing.
Evren stepped closer, challenging. "You hate when Theron gets near me, but you won't admit why."
Still, Kaelion didn't speak.
"I'm not yours to control," Evren hissed.
"No," Kaelion murmured. "But if you fall into his hands, I'll burn both courts to the ground."
Evren froze.
The fire in Kaelion's eyes wasn't love-it was possession, fury, desperation. Something raw and dangerous, not yet softened by affection.
Evren took a shaky breath. "You scare me sometimes."
Kaelion looked away. "Good."
---
Evren sat alone on the palace balcony long after sunset, legs dangling over the ledge, wine glass in hand-untouched.
Adira, his cousin and closest confidant, slid the door open quietly. "If you fall off that edge, I'm not climbing down to collect your bones."
Evren didn't look at her. "Tempting though it may be."
She joined him, dropping onto the stone with a groan. "You've been brooding. That's Kaelion's specialty."
Evren chuckled weakly. "Apparently, it's contagious."
They sat in silence until Adira finally said, "You're not yourself."
"No. I'm something worse," he muttered. "I don't know who I am anymore. I'm torn between wanting to punch Kaelion in the face... and-"
"And?" she pressed.
Evren closed his eyes. "And feeling something when he looks at me. Something that shouldn't be there."
Adira raised an eyebrow. "Do you want it to be there?"
He didn't answer.
"That's what I thought," she murmured. "Be careful, Evren. Kaelion's not like us. He doesn't bend-he breaks. And you're softer than you act."
Evren finally took a sip of wine. "I won't fall for him."
Adira stood and smirked. "You're already falling, cousin. You just haven't hit the ground yet."
Kaelion stood in the war room, staring at the map-but his mind was nowhere near the borders.
It was him.
Evren.
That damned look in his eyes.
That rage. That hurt. That confusion Kaelion had caused and couldn't seem to stop causing.
"You're slipping," said Captain Dren, stepping beside him. "You've moved the same marker three times."
Kaelion didn't look up. "Leave."
"Kaelion-"
"Leave."
The room emptied.
He gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white.
He didn't want this. He didn't want... feelings.
But he couldn't stop thinking of Evren's trembling voice. His cracked laugh. His fire.
He wasn't supposed to care.
And yet...
He cared too much.
He pressed a hand to his chest, where the ache had taken root. Not pain. Not weakness.
Something worse.
"Pull yourself together," he muttered.
But part of him-the human part long buried under armor and blood-didn't want to.
He wanted Evren.
And that terrified him more than any war.
Evren stood still as stone, eyes flicking across the royal command scroll, his jaw clenching tighter with every word.
"You've got to be joking," he said flatly, crumpling the scroll slightly in his grip.
Kaelion, standing across the chamber in full uniform, arms crossed, looked entirely too calm. "I'm not. We leave at dawn."
Evren's laugh was humorless. "You and me. Alone. For two days. Riding through unstable border territory. No guards. No second team."
"Exactly," said the king's advisor. "Both of you know the terrain. You've survived worse."
"Survived each other?" Adira chimed from the window seat, legs swinging, clearly entertained. "Because that might be the real threat."
Kaelion didn't react. Evren glared at him. "This wasn't your idea, was it?"
Kaelion shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"It does when I start wondering if you volunteered for this just to push me off a cliff."
Kaelion's lip twitched. "If I wanted to kill you, Evren, you'd be dead already."
"Comforting."
Adira stood, walking over with a grin. "Look at the bright side-you'll finally get to bond. Maybe trade tragic backstories. Braid each other's hair."
"Say another word and I'll exile you myself," Evren snapped, brushing past her. He turned back to Kaelion. "Don't give me orders out there. I don't answer to you."
Kaelion stepped closer, calm but intense. "Then don't fall behind."
The air snapped between them.
Evren's throat tightened. "If you think I'm just some pawn you can boss around like the rest of your soldiers, try again."
"I don't," Kaelion said. "You're too reckless for that."
"And you're too cold to trust."
"Good," Kaelion said quietly. "Then we understand each other."
They stood, barely inches apart, a breath away from something dangerous.
Adira broke the moment. "Please, please don't get murdered out there. Court gossip is so boring when you're not in it."
Evren didn't look away from Kaelion, voice low. "If I come back with blood on my hands, it might not be from the border."
Kaelion's eyes flicked over Evren's face, searching-something unreadable in his gaze. "Then you'd better aim for the heart."
The sun hadn't risen yet, but the stables were already alive with the sound of hooves and whispers. Most kept their distance. Two of the kingdom's most volatile swordsmen riding together? No one wanted to get caught in that crossfire.
Evren adjusted his saddle, tightening the strap with sharp, practiced hands. His cloak was thick, suited for mountain winds. He didn't look up when Kaelion approached, already mounted and silent as ever.
"Ready?" Kaelion asked.
Evren ignored him for a beat too long before swinging into his own saddle. "Didn't realize I needed your permission to be."
Kaelion didn't respond. Just turned his horse toward the northern path. Evren followed without another word.
Hours passed in silence.
The terrain shifted from cobbled roads to rough forest, the kingdom's borderlands looming ahead. It was dangerous territory—smugglers, rogue soldiers, and old wounds still bleeding beneath the surface.
Kaelion finally spoke. "There's a stream ahead. We'll rest there before crossing."
Evren snorted. "You think I need breaks like one of your tired recruits?"
Kaelion glanced back, voice calm. "I don't care what you need. I care what gets us across alive."
That irritated Evren more than it should have.
They dismounted near the stream, Kaelion moving with infuriating control, checking maps and terrain markers. Evren watched him from the shade of a tree, chewing dried fruit bitterly.
"You always like giving orders," Evren muttered. "Even when no one's asking."
"You always like resisting them," Kaelion replied, not looking up. "Even when they might save your life."
Evren stood slowly, stepping closer. "And you think you're the one who knows better? Just because you've spent years playing soldier while I was surviving assassination attempts before I could walk?"
Kaelion finally looked at him. "You think I don't know what survival costs? I've seen more betrayal than you've read poems."
That hit too close.
Evren turned away, jaw tight. "Whatever. Just don't pretend you care."
Kaelion didn't answer right away. Then quietly: "I don't. I just don't want your death staining my record."
Evren spun around. "You bastard."
Kaelion stepped closer. "Hit me, then."
They were chest to chest now, breaths shallow, tension coiled so tight it could snap with a single word. But neither moved.
Somewhere in the woods, a twig cracked.
They both turned instantly, weapons half-drawn, all fire forgotten—replaced by instinct.
Enemies might be watching.
The moment passed. But the distance between them didn't return.