Chapter 19: Chapter seventeen

Kane

The wind howled through the darkened trees, slicing through my coat like a blade, but I barely felt the cold. Not when Fallon Draythar was still burning in my mind like a fire I couldn't put out.

She had gotten too close.

The sharp defiance in her voice, the fire in her eyes—I'd seen it before, but this time it did something to me. It made my pulse quicken, made something coil tight in my chest. I should've ignored it, should've shut it down before it could go any further. But instead, I let myself get drawn in, let her words pull me closer until I could see the heat rising in her cheeks, could hear her breath hitch in the cold air.

She was dangerous. Not because she was reckless. Not because she had a lot to prove. But because she was starting to unravel something in me I had spent years keeping locked away.

I moved ahead, forcing myself to focus on the mission. The others followed behind, their voices hushed as we made our way through the Ithrador wilderness. Fallon's footsteps were quieter now, her presence like a shadow at my back. But I felt her there—too close, too present, like a thorn I couldn't shake.

Keep your distance, I told myself. She's not your problem.

But then why did I keep looking back?

—

We set up camp just past the ridge, hidden beneath the twisted branches of frost-covered trees. The fire crackled low, barely enough to cast more than flickering shadows against the trunks. I leaned against a boulder, sharpening my blade with slow, measured strokes, trying to drown out the sound of Fallon's voice as she spoke with Aela.

She was laughing softly, something I didn't hear often from her. It was a light sound, unguarded, free. It was dangerous in an entirely different way.

I focused on my blade. One stroke. Then another. Anything to keep my mind from wandering to the way she had looked at me earlier, challenging and unafraid, her breath fogging in the cold air between us.

"Tense, aren't you?" Nate's voice broke through my thoughts. He crouched beside me, smirking as he tossed a small piece of wood into the fire.

I didn't answer.

He followed my gaze, his smirk growing. "You keep looking at her."I shot him a warning glare. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" He stretched his arms behind his head, too damn pleased with himself. "You've been on edge since we left. And I'd bet my blade it's because of her."

I scoffed. "She's reckless. I need her focused."

"You need yourself focused."

I clenched my jaw and went back to sharpening my blade.

Nate exhaled a laugh and stood. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but it's obvious. Fallon gets under your skin. And if you don't figure out what to do about it soon, it's going to break you."

I didn't watch him walk away, but I felt his words settle in my chest, heavy and suffocating.

—

Later that night, I kept watch while the others slept. The fire had dimmed to embers, and the forest was quiet except for the distant howl of the wind.

Then, footsteps. Soft, barely audible. But I knew who they belonged to before I even turned my head.

Fallon stepped up beside me, arms crossed over her chest, her breath visible in the freezing air. "You don't sleep much, do you?"

I kept my eyes on the trees. "Didn't know you cared."

She let out a short laugh. "I don't." But there was something in her voice, something softer beneath the sharp edges.

Silence settled between us, thick and weighted. The kind of silence that said more than words ever could. I wanted to tell her to leave, to go back to sleep and stop making this harder than it already was. But I didn't.

Instead, I let myself glance at her, just for a second. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes—they held something I wasn't ready to face.

"You're not as cold as you pretend to be," she murmured, studying me.

I smirked, though there was no real amusement in it. "And you're not as fearless as you pretend to be."

Her jaw tensed, but she didn't look away. "You don't know anything about me."

"Don't I?"

Something flickered in her eyes then—something like recognition, like she knew I saw past the walls she tried so hard to keep up. And just for a second, I wondered what it would feel like to tear them down completely.

I leaned in slightly, just enough for her to notice. Just enough for the space between us to become something dangerous. Her breath hitched, but she didn't move away.

This was a mistake. I knew it. But damn it, I couldn't bring myself to pull back.

She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Act like you don't care."

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to take a step back, to put distance between us before I did something we'd both regret. "Because caring gets people killed."

Her eyes searched mine, like she was looking for something—an answer, a weakness, something I refused to give. And then, just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. She turned away, stepping back into the darkness, leaving me with nothing but the lingering scent of her and the ache of something I couldn't name.

I watched her go, every instinct in me screaming that she was trouble. That she would be my undoing if I let her.

And yet, despite every warning in my head, I knew one thing for certain.

I was already losing this battle.