The training chamber reeked of iron, sweat, and something older—power. Seraphina stood at the center, hands gripping her sword, pulse racing.
Kael circled her like a predator. Every step he took made the air between them thrum, alive with tension.
"Focus," he commanded, voice low but edged with something dangerous.
She lunged. He blocked. His fingers grazed hers. It was lightning. Sparks didn't fly—they ignited. Her skin still tingled where his touch lingered.
"You hesitate," he said, stepping closer. "Again."
"I'm not afraid," she shot back, though her cheeks betrayed her, pink and heated.
"Good," he whispered, close enough that her lips could feel his breath. "Then act like it."
Every movement became a dance—speed, strength, desire all colliding. When he pressed against her, even in training, the world narrowed to heat and breath and tension too heavy to ignore.
"You feel that?" he murmured, voice dark. "That spark? That's your power… and mine."
Seraphina swallowed hard. "Don't make it sound dangerous."
"It is dangerous," he said softly. "You are dangerous."
He stepped behind her suddenly, brushing his chest along her back, guiding her movements as she parried. The contact made her knees weak. Her heartbeat thudded painfully. She felt his closeness—every muscle, every breath, every dark heat—and couldn't look away.
"Concentrate," he ordered, though his lips grazed her neck, feather-light. The warning in his voice made her pulse spike even faster. "Control it."
She could barely think.
Every strike, every parry, every movement felt charged—like the chamber itself leaned closer to watch. Shadows twisted, following their bodies as if enchanted.
Kael stopped suddenly. "Enough."
She looked up, breathless, sweat beading at her temples. He was inches away, eyes dark, unyielding. "You've learned the lesson," he said softly. "But your power… it's more than skill. It's emotion. Desire. Hunger."
Her throat tightened. "And you?"
He smirked—slow, predatory, impossible to resist. "I'm all of those things… because of you."
Her knees nearly buckled. Not from training. From him.
He stepped closer, hand hovering near hers—not touching, not yet. "Do you understand now?" he whispered. "Control isn't just about mastery—it's about trusting me."
She swallowed, heart racing. "I… think so."
"Good," he murmured, then tilted his head closer. "Because I trust you… and you trust me. That makes us… unstoppable."
The shadows stretched and twisted around them, but Seraphina barely noticed. Her focus was entirely on Kael—the dangerous pull, the heat, the unspoken promise of what could come if they surrendered to it.
"You're learning fast," he said, voice low, brushing against her ear. "Too fast… and dangerously good at making me lose control."
Her lips curved into a mischievous smile. "Then you better not."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I won't. Not yet."
He stepped back, giving her space—though every muscle screamed he wanted to close it again.
"You survived," he said, voice rough, almost a growl. "And that makes you mine."
Seraphina's pulse spiked. "Not yet."
Kael smiled faintly, dangerously. "Soon. Sooner than you think."
The chamber grew quiet, shadows shifting, runes pulsing faintly. The fire of their training left more than sweat behind—it left something between them burning hotter than any spell or shadow.