They reached the broken edge of the crater by midmorning. Beyond it, a shatterline of twisted stone carved the land into deep chasms — remnants of the last War of Moons. The energy here was wrong. Old. Alive in a way that made Lyra's skin crawl.
Kael barely hesitated.
"There's no safer route?" Lyra asked, watching the jagged pass.
"This is the safer route," he replied grimly.
She didn't ask what the dangerous one was. His jaw was too tight.
Halfway through the chasm, the attack came.
Not with the warning of footsteps.
Not with the howl of beasts.
But silence.
And then—
A silver dart sliced through the air, embedding in the stone inches from Kael's neck.
Lyra spun, casting a shield just in time to deflect the next volley.
"Ambush," she said tightly.
Kael's blade was already in hand, but his eyes were changing. Darkening.
A group of shadow-born creatures emerged — more wraith than flesh. Eyes glowing with voidlight, limbs stretched unnaturally long.
Lyra stepped forward.
Kael blocked her with one arm.
"No," he growled. "Don't waste your power. Let them come to me."
"Kael—"
His voice dropped.
"Stay behind me."
Then his fingers cracked with dark flame.
And the bond between them recoiled in warning.
Something ancient stirred.
Kael's magic didn't glow. It devoured light.
His blade vanished into his arm, absorbed by a swirling vortex of dark matter. His body moved too fast—one breath, and he was already in the middle of the enemy.
Lyra gasped.
He wasn't fighting like a soldier.
He was hunting like a devil.
The creatures lunged, but Kael's form shifted.
Not fully.
Just enough.
His skin shimmered with scales of night, his eyes burned a deep crimson. Wings made of pure dark flame flared behind him for a blink—gone before Lyra could be sure she saw them.
His growl was low, guttural.
Power like molten stone radiated off him as he tore through the attackers.
One tried to flank Lyra.
He noticed.
He snapped.
The air around him folded as if the world recoiled.
Kael appeared in front of her in an instant, driving his fist—now clawed—into the creature's chest.
It didn't scream. It dissolved.
Lyra fell to her knees, overwhelmed.
The bond surged.
He was bleeding magic. And fury.
"Kael," she called softly.
His head turned.
Eyes glowing. Chest rising and falling in ragged motion.
He was still himself.
But barely.
Then, slowly, his form shimmered.
Faded.
Returned to human.
He dropped to his knees in front of her.
"Are you okay?" he rasped.
She nodded, breath shallow.
"You... You hid this from me."
"I had to."
His voice was broken.
"I'm not just a soldier, Lyra. I was made to end things. I was designed to be the last weapon used when all others fail."
"And yet you protect me," she whispered.
He looked up at her then.
"With everything I have. Even the part of me I hate."
And when she reached out, touching his face gently—he didn't flinch.
He leaned into it.
For the first time.