Kali Pov -The Pull She Cannot Fight
721 Words
Kali didn't go back to her room.
She couldn't.
Her legs carried her through the keep on instinct, her breath trembling, her pulse still echoing with the violent shock of the door's scream. Every corridor felt too narrow. Every shadow felt too close. Every torch flickered like it was whispering secrets she wasn't ready to hear.
She finally stopped in a small alcove near a window, pressing her palms against the cold stone wall.
Her heartbeat wasn't steady.
It wasn't even hers.
It was his.
And hers.
And hers.
Three rhythms tangled together in her chest — her own, Silas's cold pulse she felt when he touched her, and the faint, broken thrum of the sister behind the door.
Kali squeezed her eyes shut. "What is happening to me?"
The keep didn't answer.
But her body did.
A faint warmth bloomed beneath her ribs — soft, hesitant, like a spark trying to catch flame. It wasn't magic. Not yet. But it was something. Something ancient. Something alive.
Something tied to Silas.
Kali pressed a hand to her chest, her breath shaking. "Stop, please stop."
But the warmth didn't stop.
It grew.
It pulsed.
It reached.
She felt it brush against something cold and distant — a presence she recognized instantly.
Silas.
Her breath caught.
She didn't hear his voice.
She didn't see his face.
But she felt him.
His fear.
His grief.
His restraint.
His longing.
It washed through her like a tide, overwhelming and intimate in a way that made her knees weaken.
Kali slid down the wall, sitting on the cold floor, her arms wrapped around herself. "Silas... what are you doing to me?"
But she knew the truth.
He wasn't doing anything.
The bond was.
The soul-magic he spoke of — the magic that slept inside her — wasn't fully awake, but it was stirring. Reaching. Responding. And Silas felt it too. She knew he did. She felt the echo of his reaction like a tremor in her bones.
Kali pressed her forehead to her knees. "This can't be real."
But it was.
She had felt the sister call her name.
She had felt the door pulse for her.
She had felt Silas's soul brush hers.
She had felt the keep react to her being inside it.
And now she felt the warmth again, stronger, deeper, pulling her toward him like a thread woven through her ribs.
Kali lifted her head, staring at the dark corridor. "Why you?"
She didn't understand it.
Silas was cold, ancient, dangerous.
He had taken her from her home.
He had locked her in a keep full of secrets.
He had refused to explain anything until it was too late.
But when he touched her, she didn't feel fear.
She felt recognition.
She felt warmth.
She felt... something she didn't want to name.
Kali stood slowly, her legs trembling. She walked toward the window, staring out at the storm clouds gathering above the keep. The wind howled, rattling the glass, carrying the scent of rain and magic.
She whispered into the night, "I shouldn't care about you."
But she did.
She cared about the way he shielded her from the door.
She cared about the way his voice broke when he spoke of his sister.
She cared about the way he looked at her, like she was fire in a world of ice.
She cared about the way he feared losing her.
She cared about the way her soul reacted to his.
Kali pressed her hand against the window, her breath fogging the glass. "I don't want this."
But the warmth inside her pulsed again, faint but real, like a whisper brushing the edge of her mind.
He was hurting.
He was afraid.
He was alone.
And she felt it.
She felt him.
Kali closed her eyes, her voice barely a breath. "Silas..."
The warmth flared.
The bond tightened.
And somewhere deep in the keep, behind iron and cursed magic, the sister stirred again — sensing the connection, reaching for it, reaching for Kali.
Kali's eyes snapped open.
She wasn't safe.
Silas wasn't safe.
None of them were safe.
But she couldn't walk away.
Not from the keep.
Not from the door.
Not from the sister.
Not from him.
Kali whispered into the storm, "I'm not running."
And the warmth inside her answered.
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