The morning after Azeruun did not rise with sunlight.
It rose with breath.
Heavy. Hot. Entangled.
Rael stirred beneath the salvaged silks of the ruined flame temple, his body still warm from the night before. His arm lay wrapped around Kessai, whose leg was draped over his hips, her crimson hair spilling across his chest like a silken wildfire. The scent of sweat and embers clung to the air.
"I was right," she murmured, voice raspy with satisfaction. "You can handle two flames."
Rael smirked faintly, his fingers tracing the ridges of her spine. "You only gave me one."
She chuckled, stretching like a cat, her bare body pressing against him. "Then you'd better conserve your strength, lover. Laria's waiting… and I don't share well."
Rael raised an eyebrow. "That didn't seem to be a problem last night."
Kessai nipped his jaw. "Last night was a celebration. But I've never been a candle to be passed around. I burn bright, Rael. Touch me like that again, and I might start claiming you."
From across the chamber, Laria sat quietly near the fire pit, her silhouette calm, radiant in soft morning light. Her long hair was loosely tied, and she stirred a gently boiling cup of herbal flameleaf tea. Though her robes remained modest, there was no doubt in the way her eyes found Rael — no doubt in the serenity of her affection.
"There is no need for jealousy," she said without looking up. "He will come to me when his heart is steady. I do not need to rush what already belongs to me."
Kessai scoffed, sitting up and throwing her robe over her shoulders. "You sound like the Flame Mother when you talk like that."
"And you sound like an unsatisfied ember."
Rael sat upright between them, suppressing a grin.
This wasn't rivalry. It was heat. And he could feel it — the thrum of loyalty beneath their jabs, the genuine connection forming between the women of flame and the man they'd chosen.
They broke camp by twilight.
The Hollow Peaks rose ahead — jagged, torn land shaped by ancient divine eruptions. Black stone spears jutted skyward, and the skies here never lightened beyond a dusky red. Lightning occasionally flickered between the peaks like silent veins.
Rael led the way, the sixth seed pulsing in his chest with growing hunger. The others followed in quiet formation.
Selene stayed close, but said little.
Laria walked with poise beside Kessai, whispering quietly in a language only they knew.
Nyssira brought up the rear — silent, hood drawn, her violet gaze occasionally drifting to Rael before quickly shifting away.
And Hel remained where she always did — on the fringes, like a wolf watching from the treeline.
The tension was thick.
Not dangerous.
Just... electric.
They reached a cliffside pass just before dark. Rael called for rest. The stone beneath them hummed faintly — this land remembered gods. But there were no threats yet.
Only silence.
Selene moved to sharpen her blade, but the screech of metal against whetstone was uncharacteristically loud in the quiet.
Rael approached her.
She didn't look up. "You didn't tell us."
"Tell you what?"
Selene set the blade down. "That you took her. Kessai."
He paused. "It wasn't something I planned. It happened."
Selene rose, eyes flashing. "I'm not jealous. I'm not a child. But I've been beside you since the beginning. I killed for you. Bled for you. I watched others kneel, and I didn't say a word. But I'm not going to keep pretending I'm content watching while the rest get to touch you."
She stepped in close, her body almost pressed against his.
"I need you, Rael. Not in battle. Not in strategy. I need you."
Rael brushed her cheek. "Then take me."
She pulled him away from the fire without hesitation.
They found the hollow of a ruined archway — broken columns overrun with ivy and memory. And in the shadows, Selene let herself break.
She kissed him with hunger, her armor falling piece by piece beneath his hands. She wasn't delicate. She didn't ask. She demanded.
He lifted her effortlessly, bracing her against stone, and entered her with a gasp that echoed across the rocks. Selene clawed his back, biting his shoulder.
"I hate how much I wanted this," she whispered.
He kissed her throat. "And now?"
She moaned. "Now I want more."
Their rhythm was a war drum — not gentle, but real. Her legs locked around him, her voice spilling into the night as he drove into her over and over. And when she came, her scream of release was wordless — but sacred.
Rael followed soon after, breath ragged, hands in her hair.
For a long while, neither moved.
Then Selene laid her head against his chest, eyes closed.
"I wanted to be your first," she whispered. "But I'm glad I wasn't. Because now I can fight to be your last."
They returned to the fire in silence.
No one said a word, but Kessai raised an eyebrow and Laria smiled faintly.
Rael sat near the edge of the camp.
Nyssira didn't look at him.
Later that night, when the others slept, he found her alone on the cliff's edge. The stars hung like cold fire above them.
"I thought you'd come sooner," she said without turning.
"You knew I would."
She hugged her arms tightly. "I almost left tonight."
Rael tensed.
"I almost walked away," she repeated. "Because I didn't want to feel forgotten. Because every time I looked at you, I wondered when you'd remember me."
Rael stepped beside her. "You've always been with me."
Nyssira looked up, violet eyes wet.
"I don't want to be the quiet one. The background shadow. I want to be something that burns."
He cupped her cheek.
"You already are."
She leaned into his touch, trembling slightly.
"I'm not ready yet," she whispered.
He smiled. "Then I'll wait."
Just before dawn, as the group stirred, Hel found him standing alone beside a black pillar.
"You're collecting them."
Rael didn't turn. "They come willingly."
Hel circled him slowly.
"And what if I don't?"
He met her gaze. "Then I'll never touch you."
She stopped in front of him, eyes narrow.
"You think that makes you noble?"
"I think that makes me better than the gods you once served."
Her expression flickered.
Then, softly: "I once gave myself to a god who thought conquest meant love. He branded me, took everything… and called it devotion."
Rael said nothing.
"I'm not afraid to be claimed," she said. "But I will not be chained again. So when you do take me…"
"I won't," Rael said calmly, "until you ask."
A long silence passed between them.
Then Hel turned, her shadowed form retreating.
But not far.
High above, nestled within the jagged cliffs of the Hollow Peaks, a figure crouched in silence.
Cloaked in liquid shadow. Eyes pale silver.
Shaevari Umbros.
Watcher. Assassin. Sentinel of the Umbren Fae.
She had followed Rael since he crossed the borders of Marrowdeep — seen his battles, his victories, his women. Her orders were clear: if he posed a threat to the Veiled Realms, eliminate him.
But now?
She watched him kiss Nyssira's hand.
She saw Selene lean against him.
She felt the echo of passion still lingering in the air.
And she frowned.
"He's dangerous," she whispered.
"But not like the others."
Her fingers tightened on the hilt of her blade.
"I've slain gods."
She tilted her head.
"But I've never wanted one."