The Healer and Her God

Chapter 11

Eria

The storm outside had long since faded, leaving the temple wrapped in silence. Yet sleep refused to come. My body hummed with a restlessness I couldn’t name, every breath shallow, every heartbeat a little too loud in the stillness of my chamber.

I turned onto my side, then onto my back, then sat up altogether, tossing the thin blanket aside. The air was cool, but the heat in me was not from the room. It was from him.

Kaelen.

The name lingered in my thoughts like a forbidden chant. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the curve of his mouth when he almost smiled, the flicker of fire in his gaze when he caught me watching him. It was madness. He was my god, and I… I was supposed to be a healer. A servant of balance. Not someone who longed for what could unravel me.

I pressed my palms to my face, trying to chase away the ache coiling low in my belly. It was no use. With a sigh, I rose, bare feet whispering against the cold stone floor as I slipped into the dim corridor. The temple always held its own rhythm at night—the faint drip of water in the atrium, the distant rustle of wind through hanging tapestries—but tonight it felt as though the silence itself was watching me.

I told myself I was just walking to ease my mind. Just walking. Yet somehow my steps carried me down the long hall that led to Kaelen’s chambers.

The doors were carved with the marks of his dominion, curling sigils that seemed to pulse faintly with their own light when the moon touched them. I froze a few paces away, pulse hammering in my throat. I had no reason to be here. No right. And still…

I reached out.

My fingers hovered over the wood, trembling, but I didn’t push the door open. Instead, I leaned close enough to hear. For a long moment, there was only silence—then a low sound, a half-breath, half-growl. My name.

Eria.

I staggered back, heart slamming in my chest. It had to be my imagination. A trick of exhaustion, of longing. He couldn’t possibly—

The corridor stretched endlessly around me, shadows deepened, and I felt the dangerous weight of temptation pressing in. If I opened that door, if I stepped through, nothing would ever be the same.

I pressed my back to the wall, dragging in a shaky breath. My hands shook as though I’d just bound a man’s wounds in the middle of battle. Only this war was inside me.

Forcing my legs to move, I turned and fled the hall, my steps unsteady but quick, every nerve still straining toward that door. Toward him.

I didn’t look back, but I swore I felt the heat of his gaze follow me through the stone and silence.