Chapter 8: The First Snow Kiss.
1851 Words
The snow hadn’t stopped in 2 days.
It fell in thick sheets over Virek, covering the towers and the gates and the bodies of the wolves who’d left 3 nights ago.
Lyra hadn’t seen Kael since the library.
He’d sent food. Books. A fur-lined cloak with silver clasps.
But not himself.
Captain Rowe said the King was in meetings. With the council. With the generals. With the frost mages.
Lyra knew what that meant.
He was avoiding her.
The thought should’ve made her feel relieved. Safe.
Instead it made her chest ache.
On the 3rd night, the storm got worse. The wind howled like a wounded wolf. The torches in the halls blew out.
Lyra couldn’t sleep. The coat wasn’t enough.
So she did something stupid.
She went looking for heat.
The kitchens were warm. The library was warm. But the warmest place in the whole keep was the training yard.
Because that’s where King Kael trained when he couldn’t sleep.
She knew because she’d heard the servants whisper.
The yard was covered in snow. Footprints everywhere. And in the center, shirtless in the freezing air, was Kael.
He was fighting shadows. Sword in one hand, bare fists in the other. Snow stuck to his skin and melted instantly from the heat of him.
Scars everywhere. Across his back. His ribs. His shoulders.
Proof of 10 years of war.
He stopped when he saw her.
“What are you doing out here, Lyra?” His voice was rough. Breath steaming.
“I’m cold,” she admitted. Dumb. Honest.
Kael stared at her for 2 seconds. Then he threw his sword into the snow and walked to her.
He didn’t touch her. He shrugged out of his training jacket and put it around her shoulders over the coat.
It smelled like him. Sweat and cedar and cold air.
“You’ll catch your death,” he muttered.
“I’ve already died once,” Lyra said before she could stop herself.
Kael went still.
“Come on,” he said. “Before you freeze.”
He started walking. Lyra followed.
But the halls were dark. The storm had killed the power to the lamps. Only the snowlight from the windows showed the way.
They got lost.
Or maybe Kael let them get lost.
They ended up in a small balcony overlooking the east wall. No fire. Just snow falling and the sound of wind.
Kael leaned against the stone railing. Lyra stood beside him. The jacket was too big. She was drowning in him.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Kael said finally.
“Because of Darius?” Lyra asked.
“Because of you.”
Lyra looked at him. “What did I do?”
“You exist.” He laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “You walk around in my coat. You look at me like I’m not a monster. You touched my scar and didn’t flinch.”
He turned to her. Snow in his hair. His eyes were tired.
“Do you know what happens when people touch me, Lyra? They beg. Or they run. Or they try to use me.”
Lyra shook her head. “I’m not—”
“I know,” Kael cut her off. “That’s the problem.”
Silence.
The wind picked up. Snow stung their faces.
Lyra’s hands were shaking. From cold. From him.
Kael noticed. He cursed under his breath and pulled her closer. Not a hug. Just sharing warmth. His arm came around her shoulders.
She fit under it perfectly.
Her head came up to his chest. She could hear his heart. Fast.
“This is a bad idea,” Kael murmured into her hair.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my ward. Because I’m a king. Because if I start I won’t be able to stop.”
Lyra looked up at him. “Stop what?”
Kael didn’t answer.
He just looked down at her. Really looked. At her cold cheeks. Her chapped lips. The way she was shivering in two coats that still weren’t enough.
“Gods,” he whispered.
And then he did it.
He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her forehead.
Not a kiss like in stories. Not claiming. Not possessive.
It was warm. And careful. And it lasted 3 seconds too long.
Lyra froze.
Kael froze too, like he’d just realized what he’d done.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. Stepping back. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t.” Lyra grabbed his wrist before he could get further away. Her fingers were cold against his skin. “Don’t apologize.”
Kael stared at her hand on him. Then at her face.
“Lyra—”
“Kiss me properly or don’t kiss me at all,” she whispered.
The words hung between them.
And then Kael groaned like she’d hurt him.
“Little ghost,” he said. And this time when he pulled her to him it wasn’t to share warmth.
His hands came up to frame her face. Cold from the snow. But his mouth was hot.
He kissed her.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t tentative.
It was 10 years of being alone and 3 days of wanting her poured into one kiss.
His lips were chapped from the cold but they moved over hers like he was memorizing her. Like he was afraid she’d vanish.
Lyra made a sound. She didn’t know if it was a whimper or a sigh.
She reached up and fisted her hands in his jacket.
Kael pulled back just enough to breathe. “Tell me to stop.”
Lyra shook her head. Snow melted on her eyelashes.
“Good,” Kael whispered. And kissed her again.
Deeper this time. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone. The other hand stayed on her back like he was afraid she’d fall.
The world narrowed to snow and fire and the taste of him.
When they broke apart, both of them were breathing hard.
Kael rested his forehead against hers. “f**k,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Lyra whispered. Her lips felt numb and alive at the same time.
“Because I’m supposed to protect you. Not ruin you.”
Lyra pulled back just enough to see him. “You didn’t ruin me. Darius did that. You’re the first person who made me feel like I wasn’t broken.”
Kael closed his eyes. Like the words physically hurt him.
“Ward,” he said, but it sounded like a question now.
“Maybe not forever,” Lyra answered. Honest. Terrified. “But for tonight... can I just be yours?”
Kael didn’t answer with words.
He pulled her into his chest and wrapped both arms around her. Held her like the storm could take her if he didn’t.
They stood there for a long time. While the snow fell around them.
Until Captain Rowe’s voice echoed from down the hall. “Your Majesty? The council is waiting.”
Kael didn’t move.
“5 minutes,” he called back. Voice steady.
Then he looked down at Lyra. Brushed his thumb over her swollen lips once.
“Come on, little ghost,” he said. “Before I do something else I’ll regret in the morning.”
But the way he said it...
He didn’t sound like he regretted it at all.
That night, Lyra fell asleep in his jacket.
She dreamed of snow. And of hands that didn’t hurt her.
When she woke, the jacket was still around her. And on the table beside her bed was a cup of tea. Still warm.
With a note under it in sharp, black ink:
_The storm broke at dawn.
Stay inside today.
- K_
No title. No “Your Majesty”. Just K.
Lyra pressed the paper to her chest. Her lips still tingled.
In the war room, King Kael signed 3 new laws.
1. No one touches the King’s ward.
2. No one speaks to the King’s ward without permission.
3. The King’s ward goes where she pleases, when she pleases.
Captain Rowe stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Your Majesty,” Rowe said carefully. “May I ask why?”
Kael didn’t look up from the parchment. “Because she asked me to kiss her. And I did. And now anyone who hurts her answers to me.”
Silence.
Rowe swallowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
One of the younger lords opened his mouth. “But sir, the Blackridge Alpha—”
“Is nothing to me,” Kael said. Finally looking up. Silver eyes cold. “If Darius Vane sets foot in my territory again, he leaves in pieces. Understood?”
Every head nodded.
That evening, Lyra found him again.
Not in the training yard. Not in the library.
On the roof.
Kael stood at the edge, looking out over Virek. The snow had stopped. The sky was clear and cruel and full of stars.
He didn’t turn when she approached.
“I thought I told you to stay inside,” he said.
“You did.” Lyra stopped beside him. She was wearing his jacket again. “I don’t listen very well.”
Kael huffed a laugh. It was almost a real laugh.
For a while they just stood there. Shoulder to shoulder. Not touching.
“Captain Rowe and some other lords know,” Kael said finally. “About the kiss.”
Lyra’s stomach dropped. “And?”
“And they’re terrified,” Kael said. “Good. Let them be.”
He turned to her then. Really looked at her. At her lips. At the way she was watching him without fear.
“Lyra,” he said. Her name sounded different in his mouth now. Softer. “What we did tonight... it can’t happen again. Not until—”
“Until what?” Lyra interrupted.
Kael’s jaw clenched. “Until you’re sure. Until you’re not just running from him. Until you’re choosing me because you want me. Not because I’m warm.”
Lyra stepped closer. Close enough that their coats brushed.
“And if I am sure?” she whispered.
Kael’s eyes darkened. He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The same way he did in the war room.
“Then I’ll kiss you every night until the snow melts,” he murmured. “And then I’ll kiss you when it comes back.”
Lyra’s breath caught.
“Is that a promise, Your Majesty?”
Kael smiled. Small. Dangerous. Real.
“It’s a threat, little ghost.”
Then he leaned down and kissed her again.
Slow this time. Sweet. Like he had all the time in the world.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers.
“The snow stopped,” he said.
“So it did,” Lyra whispered back.
“And something else started.”
Outside, Virek slept under a blanket of white.
Inside, a rejected omega and a lonely king had just decided to burn the world down if they had to.
Together.
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