Silence followed the attack, but it was no longer the same kind.
It carried awareness now. Understanding. The quiet recognition that whatever had begun between them could not be dismissed as coincidence or misfortune.
Elira stood by the window once more, watching the distant horizon where war continued to shape itself beyond sight.
Kael entered without announcement.
"You are adapting," he said.
Elira did not turn. "I am surviving."
"That is not the same thing."
A pause.
Then she faced him.
"You did not let the assassin kill me."
Kael's expression did not change. "The bond would not allow it."
"That is not what I asked."
The air between them shifted again, subtle yet undeniable.
For a moment, it seemed as though he might not answer.
Then—
"I do not waste what is already mine," he said.
The words should have felt like a claim.
Possessive. Cold.
And yet something within them carried a different weight.
Elira held his gaze.
"I am not yours."
A faint flicker crossed his expression—something unreadable, something restrained.
"No," he said quietly.
"Not yet."