THE FIRST KISS
The walk back to the cabin was steeped in silence, broken only by the crunch of leaves underfoot. Amara kept stealing glances at Lysander, whose face was a mask of tension. His earlier warning echoed in her mind, but a part of her refused to let fear dictate her actions.
When they reached the cabin, the fire had burned low, leaving the room bathed in shadows. Amara hesitated in the doorway, unsure of how to bridge the ever-widening gap between them.
"Get some rest," Lysander said curtly, moving toward the window to peer out at the forest. "I'll keep watch."
Amara crossed her arms. "You can't just avoid this forever."
He turned, his expression unreadable. "Avoid what?"
"This… connection," she said, gesturing vaguely between them. "Whatever it is, you feel it too. I know you do."
Lysander's jaw tightened. "What I feel doesn't matter. What matters is keeping you alive."
Amara stepped closer, her voice softening. "You can't keep pushing me away, Lysander. Not when we're in this together."
"You don't understand," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "Every time I've let myself get close to a Catalyst, it's ended in death—their death. I won't let that happen to you."
"Maybe it's not your choice to make," she said defiantly.
Amara stormed past him, her emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. Her heart was pounding, her body trembling with frustration and something deeper—something she couldn't name but felt acutely whenever she was near him.
"Why do you care so much?" she demanded, spinning to face him. "Why does it matter to you what happens to me?"
Lysander stared at her, his dark eyes flashing with barely contained emotion. "Because I can't lose you," he said finally, his voice breaking.
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, Amara closed the distance between them.
"Then stop running from me," she whispered.
Lysander's resolve crumbled. Before he could stop himself, he reached out, his hand cupping her face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumb brushing against her cheek.
"This is a mistake," he murmured, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Then let me make it with you," Amara replied, her breath hitching as her gaze locked onto his.
The space between them disappeared in an instant. Lysander's lips captured hers, and the world seemed to shift. The kiss was both desperate and tender, as if it held the weight of all the emotions they had been trying to suppress.
Amara's hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer as if he were afraid to let go.
The mark on her wrist burned hot, a searing pulse of energy that spread through her body like wildfire. She gasped against his lips, the sensation overwhelming but not painful. It was as though her very soul was igniting, the bond between them growing stronger with every passing second.
"Amara," Lysander said breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at her. His eyes were dark with concern, but there was also a vulnerability she had never seen before. "We shouldn't—"
The words died on his lips as a wave of energy burst outward, knocking over furniture and extinguishing the fire in the hearth. Shadows danced along the walls, moving unnaturally, as if alive.
"What's happening?" Amara asked, clutching his arms.
"The bond," Lysander said, his voice tight. "You're losing control."
The cabin was eerily still after the surge of power faded. Amara pulled away, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The mark on her wrist still glowed faintly, a stark reminder of what had just happened.
"I didn't mean to—"
"It's not your fault," Lysander said, his voice soft but firm. "The bond is stronger now. I should've known this would happen."
"So, what do we do?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Lysander hesitated, his expression torn. "We keep moving. Selene warned us this could happen, but it's only going to get worse. The more we give in to this…" He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "The more dangerous it becomes."
Amara squared her shoulders. "Then we'll figure it out. Together."
Lysander gave her a long look, as if weighing her resolve against his own fears. Finally, he nodded. "Together."
Unbeknownst to them, outside the cabin, a shadow lingered in the trees, watching. Azriel's voice was a low whisper on the wind. "How beautiful… watching them fall deeper into the trap."