Kaedan jolted upward so violently that the healers stumbled backward in terror. His hand shot out as if searching blind through the dark.
And it found her.
He grabbed Ariaxa’s arm and dragged her against him as though anchoring himself to the world he had almost left.
“Ariaxa—”
Her name broke out of him like a sob and a curse tangled together.
His chest heaved.
His hair was damp with sweat.
His skin burned with fever and fury.
But his eyes—
Gods, his eyes—
Red from bloodline fury, but ringed with new gold from the bond she had forced open.
A clash of sun and shadow.
He stared at her like she was something impossible.
Like she wasn’t real.
Like she shouldn’t be there.
Like he was terrified she’d vanish if he blinked.
His fingers tightened on her arms.
“Why…” he whispered, voice shaking so violently it barely formed the word, “…why did you bind yourself to me?”
Ariaxa could barely breathe.
Her body still trembled from the ritual.
Her soul still felt stretched, tethered to his heartbeat.
Every pulse of his chest echoed in hers.
But she held his gaze.
“Because you matter.”
Something shattered in Kaedan’s expression.
He pulled her closer.
Slow.
Trembling.
As if afraid she might break—or he might.
He pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths colliding, their heartbeats syncing through the bond humming beneath their skin.
“You…” His voice cracked, raw with grief and awe. “…you were inside my mind.”
She nodded weakly. “I saw everything.”
His breath hitched. “All of it?”
“All of you.”
His hands rose to cup her face, palms shaking.
“No one should see what’s in there,” he whispered, horrified.
“No one should ever have to survive it.”
“I did,” she whispered. “I’m here.”
His throat bobbed.
His lashes lowered, trembling.
The moment was fragile, unbelievably tender.
Until—
Kaedan’s expression changed.
Horror.
Realization.
Rage.
“You fought Rhaelle,” he said, voice dropping to a deadly quiet.
“You used solar magic until it nearly killed you.”
Ariaxa stiffened. “Kaedan—”
“You challenged a Triarch,” he snarled. “Alone.”
“Kaedan—”
“And then you tried to connect to a Solar mage without control—”
“Kaedan—”
“And you nearly tore your soul apart—”
“Kaedan—”
He grabbed her wrist sharply, not hurting, but demanding.
“You promised—”
“No,” she snapped back, eyes blazing. “YOU promised.”
He froze.
“If you stay alive next time,” Ariaxa hissed, “maybe I won’t have to fight alone.”
His breath caught.
His grip trembled.
For once, he had no command.
No fury to throw back.
No argument to win.
Just a man—
terrified of losing the only person whose life mattered more than his own.
Her wrist still in his hand, she whispered,
“You don’t get to die and leave me to clean up the world alone.”
Something inside him broke.
Not in anger.
Not in fear.
In surrender.
Slowly, Kaedan lifted her hand to his lips.
His eyes never left hers.
His breath shook against her skin.
And then—
He kissed her.
Not possessive.
Not furious.
Not hungry or violent or burning.
But soft.
Reverent.
Grateful.
Terrified.
A man kissing the woman who had dragged him back from death and willingly tied her soul to his.
A kiss that trembled with everything he didn’t know how to say.
A kiss that said:
You saved me.
You claimed me.
You chose me.
And I will never recover from it.