The grand hall of the Northern Palace buzzed with the faint hum of ceremonial preparation. The council had called an official assembly—a display of power, they claimed, to test Elara's control and allegiance. But Kael knew better: the council's intent was far more dangerous.
Elara's fingers twitched nervously. The bond pulsed against her skin, insistent, warning her of danger she could not yet see.
"Stay close," Kael murmured, his hand brushing hers ever so slightly. The touch was light, almost casual—but the bond surged instantly, violent and alive. She had learned to steady it, but even now, the sensation left her chest heavy, tingling with heat.
"I… can't shake the feeling something will happen," she admitted.
Kael's silver eyes swept the room. "Neither can I. That's why we stay together."
The council chamber doors opened with a commanding creak, and the elders filed in, their robes rustling like ominous whispers. The murmurs among the council members shifted toward malice, a barely concealed anticipation.
High Elder Morvain's eyes glinted dangerously. "Lady Nightwind, we summon this gathering not just to observe, but to remind you of your duties. Your power grows uncontrolled… and that cannot stand."
Elara's jaw tightened. "Uncontrolled? I have protected this palace more than you ever could. And I will not kneel to fear disguised as authority."
Kael's hand tightened around hers subtly, and the bond flared in response—electric, urgent, a shared heartbeat of power and connection. Elara felt her magic respond instinctively, the sigils underfoot pulsing faintly with silver light.
"Enough talk," Morvain said sharply. At his signal, the shadows along the walls moved. Figures in dark cloaks—assassins hidden in plain sight—lunged at them.
Kael reacted instantly, drawing his sword, blocking one dagger aimed at Elara's chest. She barely had time to summon a protective sigil, the silver arcs snapping into place and deflecting a second attack.
"Stay with me!" Kael barked.
The bond pulsed violently, tugging her closer—not just physically, but emotionally, synchronizing their movements. Elara's magic responded in tandem with his strikes, arcs of silver energy spinning outward in protective circles that pinned the attackers midair.
The chamber erupted into chaos. Nobles screamed, guards lunged, and the council members retreated behind their high chairs, eyes wide with fear. But Elara and Kael moved as one, perfectly in sync—the bond guiding them, forcing coordination beyond conscious thought.
One assassin leapt from the balcony, dagger aimed at Kael. Elara's hands shot forward, sigils spinning rapidly, catching him midair and sending him crashing to the floor. The bond flared in pain and exhilaration, sending both of them staggering but unhurt.
"You're incredible," Kael said, voice low, almost private, as he swept past her to dispatch another intruder.
Her chest burned—not just from exertion, but from the proximity, the shared heartbeat of the bond. "We make a good team," she replied, barely audible.
The last of the assassins tried a desperate charge. Kael stepped in front of her, sword ready. But this time, Elara acted before he could. The bond pulsed violently, almost as if it were alive, guiding her hands with precision. Sigils formed a spiraling barrier that pinned the intruder with blinding silver light.
Kael's eyes widened. "You did that instinctively… the bond—"
"Yes," she said, breathing heavily. "It's… stronger than I realized. It's us."
The chamber went silent. The assassins were incapacitated, their weapons useless, and the council members stared in shock. Morvain's face turned ashen. "This… this is unacceptable."
Elara met his gaze, silver light pulsing faintly around her hands. "Unacceptable is calling me dangerous when I defend my life. I will not be your pawn. Not now. Not ever."
Kael stepped close, brushing her hair back from her face, his hand lingering near hers. The bond pulsed violently again, this time with a mix of heat, longing, and urgency.
"I've kept my distance," he murmured, low and rough. "But the bond… it's not letting me."
Elara's pulse quickened. "Kael…" she whispered. Her hands shook, though she tried to steady them.
The bond flared, almost knocking them both to their knees. Their faces were inches apart, breaths mingling. Every instinct screamed to give in, to surrender to the pull—but duty, danger, and instinct kept them just short of crossing the line.
And then the distant clamor of guards entering the palace snapped them back to reality.
Kael's lips brushed her temple as he murmured, "Later. We survive first… then we see where this leads."
Elara's chest heaved, a mix of adrenaline and desire, as the bond hummed insistently—promising, urging, almost alive.
The council had underestimated them, again. But more than that, the bond had proven something undeniable: Kael and Elara were stronger together, unstoppable when united, and drawn to each other by a force neither could ignore.
As the chamber filled with palace guards securing the hall, Elara realized one truth: the council could plot, assassins could strike, danger could follow—but the bond would never let them be apart.
And the pull between them—fiery, magnetic, impossible—was only growing stronger.