Chapter 21
The fire had passed. Not cooled—never that—but settled. Like embers that didn’t need to blaze to be hot. They lay beneath the thin linen, chest to chest, her fingers resting just above the sigils on his collarbone. The golden lines had dimmed to the faintest glow. Like candlelight under skin. Eria could still feel the echo of him inside her, the shape of him carved into her hips, her ribs, her breath. But it wasn’t the ache that stayed—it was the peace. “I always wondered,” she murmured, tracing a lazy line across his shoulder, “if gods dreamed.” Kaelen blinked. His voice came soft and low, like a man speaking from a warm cave. “We don’t. Not the way mortals do. Not unless…” “Unless?” He met her eyes, and for once, there was no shield behind them. Just tired love and the faintest edg
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