17 - Fever
955 Words
The sun had barely kissed the horizon when Elise sat on the stone bench outside the compound, her hands clasped lightly with Soren’s. The morning air was crisp, mist curling low across the training grounds like silent ghosts.
Soren’s voice was calm and steady. “Inhale through the nose. Count to four. Hold.”
Their hands glowed faintly, her unstable power pulsing like a flickering heartbeat through their link.
“Exhale slowly,” he instructed, watching her closely.
She obeyed, her breath shaking slightly.
The power inside her always clawed at the surface in the mornings—feral, sharp, unwilling to settle. But Soren helped ground it, and helped her. She hated to admit how much she’d come to rely on it.
The rest of the team passed by in twos and threes, gear slung over their shoulders, heading toward the mission briefing. And like clockwork, the teasing began.
“At it again, lovebirds?”
“What do you two do out here before dawn, huh?”
“Soren, I think you’re just using ‘power regulation’ as an excuse to hold her hand.”
Elise sighed and shot them a glare. “We’re training.”
“Sure you are,” someone snorted.
Soren chuckled, brushing his thumb reassuringly against her wrist. “Don’t let it get to you.”
“I don’t,” she said—but her voice was quieter than usual.
Because as much as she didn’t want to explain herself to them, there was a whisper of guilt under her skin. A memory of dark eyes, a smirk, and a voice that always called her kitten like a promise.
Sleep evaded her again.
The dreams were worse now—fragments of another life, another death. Fire. Screams. Her own voice breaking against the sound of chains. Her powers surging uncontrollably.
She jolted awake, breath ragged, sweat sticking her shirt to her skin.
And then—fingers.
Soft. Gentle. Stroking through her hair with a strange tenderness that didn’t belong in her nightmares.
Her heart seized. She rolled fast, reached beneath her pillow, dagger already drawn—and lunged toward the intruder.
A laugh stopped her cold.
Low. Familiar. Infuriatingly calm.
“My kitten is cautious.”
Her blade froze an inch from his throat.
“Vael,” she breathed, disbelief and adrenaline crashing into each other.
He was leaning back against her headboard, barely flinching, one arm draped across his lap like this was a perfectly natural place for him to be.
“What the hell are you doing in my room? You were supposed to be on a mission.”
“Finished early.”
“You said that mission was supposed to take a week.”
“I missed you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.
Elise narrowed her eyes. “You risked overexertion just to show up in the middle of the night?”
He tilted his head, his grin wolfish. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not. You’re pale and—you’re burning up,” she said, kneeling beside him. Her fingers brushed against his forehead, and heat radiated from his skin like he’d been standing in fire.
“You i***t,” she hissed. “You pushed yourself too hard.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, his hand found hers—slow, deliberate—and laced their fingers together.
“I leave for three days,” he murmured, voice rougher now, “and I come back to see you sitting out in the open, holding his hand.”
Elise blinked. “Soren?”
“Mhm.” His grip tightened slightly. “So, that bastard name is Soren. Why is he holding your hand?”
“He’s helping me,” she said, trying not to sound defensive. “The power specialist’s out of the city, and Soren knows energy regulation techniques. That’s all it is.”
Vael’s eyes darkened, but not with anger.
With something far more dangerous.
Longing.
Possession laced with pain.
“You didn’t reach out to me.”
“You weren’t here.”
“I would’ve come if you needed me.”
Elise hesitated. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I always need you.”
The silence that followed was sharp, vibrating with everything unsaid.
He leaned forward, their foreheads gently colliding. Her breath caught as the warmth of his fevered skin touched hers, sweat pooling at his temple.
“You’re still burning up,” she murmured.
“I told you,” he said, voice hoarse. “I’m just burning for you.”
Elise swallowed, her heart thudding loud enough she was sure he could feel it through their touch. Her free hand brushed his cheek instinctively, and he leaned into it like it was the first softness he’d felt in days.
“You shouldn’t have come back like this.”
“I couldn’t stay away,” he said simply. “Especially not when someone else was in your space.”
Her chest tightened.
“There’s no one else in my space, Vael. Just you. Always you.”
For a moment, it felt like the world slowed—the air heavier, the gravity stronger between them.
But before she could lean any closer, he sagged slightly against her, the exhaustion finally catching up. His fevered body slumped forward, and she caught him with a gasp.
“Dammit. You really pushed yourself too hard,” she muttered, carefully shifting him to lie against her bed.
As she pulled the covers over him and placed a cool cloth on his brow, he murmured faintly through the haze of sleep.
“I’m willing to finish my work, so I can see you. Just for you, Elise.”
Elise froze, her hand hovering above his cheek.
- Writer
