The cold of the cell crept into Elyra's bones as the silence stretched around her. Kael's absence lingered like a phantom, his words from earlier gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.
"Because someone has to."
She wanted to hate him. Needed to. But every time she built the wall higher, he found a way to slip through, his storm-gray eyes leaving cracks she couldn't repair.
Her wrists throbbed, raw from the bindings. She flexed her fingers, trying to bring life back into them, when the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor.
The door opened slowly this time, as if whoever was entering didn't want to startle her. But Elyra was already on edge. Her spine stiffened, and her fingers curled into fists.
Kael stepped into the room, holding a tray of food. The sight of him stirred conflicting emotions she couldn't suppress—relief tangled with anger, confusion twined with curiosity.
"You need to eat," he said, his voice steady.
"Why?" Elyra spat, her words sharper than she intended. "So I'll have the strength to endure whatever torture comes next?"
Kael's expression didn't change. He walked to the corner and set the tray down, the clink of metal breaking the quiet. "If I wanted to break you, I wouldn't use food."
The simplicity of his statement left her momentarily speechless. He turned, his gaze piercing as he studied her.
"You're quieter today," he observed. "Thinking of escape?"
Elyra forced a laugh. "You think I'm going to tell you?"
Kael smirked faintly. "No. But it's what I'd be thinking, if I were in your position."
He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between them. Elyra's pulse quickened, though she refused to show it.
"You didn't answer my question," she said, forcing her voice to remain steady.
"What question?"
"Why are you doing this?" Her eyes locked onto his, daring him to give her something other than a cryptic half-truth.
Kael's smirk faded. He crouched in front of her, his movements deliberate, calculated. "Because you're different."
Elyra flinched at the word, her stomach twisting. "Different? Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"Yes." His voice was quieter now, almost gentle. "You're not like the others I've captured. You hesitate. You question. You don't follow orders blindly."
His words struck a nerve, the truth of them too raw to deny. Elyra leaned back, trying to put distance between them. "You don't know me."
Kael tilted his head, studying her. "No. But I want to."
The intensity in his gaze sent a chill down her spine. She hated the way it made her feel—vulnerable, exposed.
"Why?" she demanded, her voice sharper.
"Because you're not what they told me you'd be." His hand brushed hers, the contact brief but electric.
Elyra jerked her hand away, her breath hitching. "Don't touch me."
Kael's jaw tightened, but he didn't apologize. Instead, he stood and stepped back, giving her space. "Eat," he said simply, his tone firm.
She glared at him. "And if I don't?"
"You will," he said, crossing his arms. "You're smarter than that."
The arrogance in his tone made her blood boil. She grabbed the bread from the tray, more out of spite than hunger, and tore off a piece. The silence between them grew heavier as she ate, her anger simmering beneath the surface.
Kael leaned against the wall, watching her. "Why do you fight for them?" he asked suddenly.
Elyra froze mid-bite. "What?"
"The rebellion," he said, his voice quieter. "Why do you fight for them? What do you believe in?"
She set the bread down, her appetite vanishing. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
Elyra's hands curled into fists. "You think you can waltz in here, ask a few questions, and get me to open up? You're delusional."
Kael's expression darkened. "I've seen what your rebellion does. I've seen the chaos they leave behind. Villages burned. Innocents killed."
"And your king is any better?" Elyra shot back, her voice rising. "How many lives has he destroyed in the name of his so-called peace?"
Kael's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, controlled. "This isn't about him. It's about you. And the lies you've been told."
Elyra's chest tightened. "I don't need a lecture from a murderer."
Kael flinched, the word cutting deeper than she expected. For a moment, his mask slipped, and she saw the shadow of something—regret, perhaps—flicker across his face.
"I'm not proud of everything I've done," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
The vulnerability in his words left her speechless. She stared at him, trying to reconcile the man in front of her with the enemy she'd sworn to hate.
"You're lying," she said finally, though her voice lacked conviction.
Kael stepped closer, his gaze burning into hers. "Am I?"
The air between them grew heavy, charged with unspoken tension. Elyra's breath quickened, her heart pounding in her chest.
"I don't trust you," she whispered, the words trembling on her lips.
"You don't have to," Kael said, his voice soft but firm. "But you should start asking yourself why."
Before she could respond, the door slammed open, and Darion strode in, his eyes gleaming with malicious glee.
"Well, isn't this a touching moment?" he sneered.
Kael turned to face him, his posture rigid. "What do you want, Darion?"
Darion's smirk widened. "The king grows impatient. If she won't talk, he'll make sure she does."
Elyra's blood ran cold, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral.
"She's not going anywhere," Kael said, his voice like steel.
Darion raised an eyebrow. "Careful, General. You're starting to sound protective."
Kael didn't respond, his gaze locked on Darion with an intensity that sent a shiver down Elyra's spine.
"I'll handle this," Kael said finally, his voice low and dangerous.
Darion's smirk faltered, but he didn't argue. He shot Elyra one last look before turning and leaving the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
Kael exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
Elyra watched him carefully. "Why are you protecting me?"
He met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "Because someone has to," he said again, his voice softer this time.
And just like that, the cracks in her resolve widened, the walls she'd built around her heart threatening to crumble.