Lyra moved before she could think.
"I have to go," she said quickly, her voice unsteady.
No one stopped her.
Not the instructor. Not the students.
Only him.
She felt his gaze on her as she stepped back, then turned, then walked faster than she should.
Don't run.
Running would draw attention.
But her chest was already tight, her pulse loud in her ears.
Something had gone wrong.
She slipped past the edge of the training grounds and into the corridor, her steps uneven now, harder to control.
Her hand pressed against her chest, as if it could steady whatever was happening inside.
It didn't work.
The feeling was still there.
That moment—when her blood touched him—
It hadn't ended.
It left something behind.
Faint, unfamiliar… wrong.
"…What was that?" she whispered.
No answer came. Only the sound of her own breathing.
She didn't stop until she reached the back halls, far from the arena.
Only then did she slow.
But the feeling stayed.
Quiet, but constant. Like something had settled beneath her skin.
Lyra shook her head.
No. She just needed to calm down.
That was all.
—
Across the academy, Kael hadn't moved.
Students resumed talking. Instructors returned to their work. The training grounds fell back into rhythm.
He barely noticed.
His attention lingered elsewhere.
On something he couldn't see anymore—
but could still feel.
Kael frowned slightly.
That alone was unusual.
He didn't lose focus. Didn't dwell on things that didn't matter.
And yet, it was there.
A faint sensation, difficult to place. Not physical, not entirely.
But present.
He exhaled and forced himself to turn away.
Ignore it.
That would be the logical choice.
Whatever had just happened—
It shouldn't concern him.
He started walking.
One step. Then another.
The feeling didn't fade.
It followed.
Subtle, but persistent enough to notice.
Kael slowed.
That wasn't normal.
His gaze shifted toward the corridor she had taken.
Empty.
Still—
That presence lingered, as a thread stretched too far without breaking.
He tried to ignore it again.
Kept walking.
It stayed.
If anything, it grew clearer.
"…Annoying," he muttered under his breath.
But it wasn't just irritation.
There was something else beneath it.
Awareness.
As if—
He could sense where she was.
Not precisely.
But enough.
Enough to know she was getting farther away.
Kael stopped.
Then, without another thought, he turned back.
—
Lyra had just reached the kitchen doors when it hit her again.
Stronger.
She froze.
Her breath caught sharply.
That feeling—
It wasn't fading.
It was getting closer.
Her fingers tightened at her sides.
No.
That wasn't possible.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Noise rushed over her—voices, movement, metal against stone—but it didn't help.
The feeling stayed.
Closer now.
Too close.
Her chest tightened.
He's—
No. Don't think like that.
She moved faster, slipping between the others, trying to lose herself in the work, in the noise, in anything.
It didn't work.
The presence sharpened.
Approaching.
She stopped.
Just for a second.
That was enough.
The kitchen door opened again.
Lyra didn't need to look.
She already knew.
The air shifted.
Heavy. Controlled.
Slowly, she turned.
He stood at the entrance.
Calm. Unreadable.
But his eyes found her immediately.
Like he hadn't needed to search at all.
Lyra's breath caught.
That wasn't a coincidence.
He stepped inside.
The noise in the kitchen faltered, then quieted under his presence. No one questioned it.
No one dared to.
Lyra couldn't move.
Kael stopped a few steps in front of her.
Closer than before.
The space between them felt… wrong.
Too tight.
Too aware.
His gaze didn't leave her.
Lyra swallowed, forcing her voice out.
"…Why are you here?"
He didn't answer.
Not right away.
He studied her instead, as if confirming something he already suspected.
Then he stepped closer.
Lyra stepped back.
Another step.
Her back hit the edge of the table.
Nowhere left.
Her breath came unevenly.
"This isn't right," she whispered.
Kael tilted his head slightly.
Not confused.
Certain.
When he spoke, his voice was low, controlled—
but no longer indifferent.
"…I can feel you."
Lyra's heart stuttered.
No.
That wasn't possible.
But he didn't look uncertain.
He knew.
Kael closed the remaining distance between them.
Close enough that the pull between them felt real. Tangible.
Unavoidable.
His gaze locked onto hers.
And quietly, he said—
"From now on… you're not allowed to be far from me."