The second night was harder.
Aelira felt it the moment she stepped into the eastern tower—the restless pull beneath her skin, stronger than before. Power did not like to be restrained. It pushed. Tested.
Waited for weakness.
Kael watched her closely as she took her place in the center of the chamber.
"Again," Kael said.
Aelira inhaled, focused—and sneezed.
The shadows exploded.
The lantern shattered.
Kael froze.
Aelira stared at the wreckage. "…I may have lost concentration."
Kael blinked once. "Did you just weaponize a sneeze?"
"It was very sudden," she said defensively.
Silence.
Then—very slowly—Kael turned his face away.
Her lips parted. "Are you… smiling?"
"No," he said instantly.
His shoulders shook.
"Again," he said.
Aelira inhaled slowly and reached inward.
The warmth surged.
Shadows rose at once, thicker than the night before, spiraling up her arms like living ink. The air grew cold. The lantern flame flickered violently.
Kael's jaw tightened. "Too fast."
"I'm controlling it," Aelira said through clenched teeth.
"No," he replied sharply. "You're forcing it."
The shadows lashed outward.
The stone floor cracked.
Aelira gasped as pain tore through her chest, sharper than before—hot and suffocating. Her vision blurred, knees buckling as the power surged beyond her grip.
"Enough," Kael snapped.
He crossed the distance in a heartbeat.
But the shadows didn't stop.
They recoiled violently, then struck—slamming Aelira backward into the stone wall. The impact knocked the air from her lungs.
She slid to the floor.
The world tilted.
Kael was there instantly, dropping to one knee beside her.
"Aelira." His voice was low, urgent. "Look at me."
She tried.
Her hands shook violently, shadow clinging to her fingers like a curse.
"I can't—" she whispered. "It won't—"
"I know," he said. "That's why you stop."
He seized her wrists firmly—not rough, not gentle—grounding.
"Breathe," he ordered. "With me."
She focused on his voice.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The shadows resisted.
Kael pulled her closer, bracing her against his chest as the power convulsed one final time—then retreated violently, snapping back into stillness.
Silence crashed down.
Aelira sagged against him, breath ragged, pulse racing.
Kael didn't move.
Didn't let go.
Only when her trembling eased did he speak.
"You're bleeding."
She followed his gaze.
Dark red stained the front of her nightdress.
Her breath caught. "I didn't feel—"
"Because you were burning from the inside," he said quietly.
His jaw was tight. Controlled. Angry—not at her.
At himself.
"I warned you," he continued. "Power like yours doesn't forgive arrogance."
Aelira lifted her head, meeting his eyes. "Then why am I still alive?"
Kael's grip tightened—just slightly.
"Because you listened," he said. "At the last second."
He removed his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders without asking.
Possessive.
Protective.
Necessary.
"You'll rest tomorrow," he added. "No training."
Aelira frowned weakly. "I can't afford—"
"You can," he cut in. "Because if you break yourself, the palace will finish the job."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and intimate.
Then, softer: "Don't scare me like that again."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Aelira froze.
Slowly, a faint smile touched her lips. "Was that concern, Commander?"
Kael released her abruptly and stood.
"Next time," he said flatly, turning away, "you obey."
But he didn't leave until he was certain she could stand.
And long after Aelira returned to her chambers, the eastern tower remained lit—
Because Kael Draven did not sleep that night.