Sophie Mann had not been touched in six years.
Not in any way that mattered. Not in any way that made her feel seen. The Patriarch had stopped visiting her quarters after Nora's birth, dismissing her as a failed investment — useful only as a caretaker for children he considered marginal.
Six years.
And then Kael happened.
She didn't know when it started. Maybe the first time she'd seen him in the garden — twelve years old, silver-flecked eyes staring at nothing, looking like a lost god pretending to be a child. Maybe the first time he'd spoken to her and she'd realized he actually listened. Maybe the night she'd found him bleeding in the ruins and her whole world had cracked open like an egg.
It didn't matter when it started.
It only mattered that it hadn't stopped.
"Come here."
She stepped forward.
Kael sat on the edge of the meditation cushion, looking up at her with those impossible eyes.
"We need to talk," he said.
Sophie's heart hammered. Every scenario she'd ever imagined — every desperate fantasy she'd catalogued in the dark hours — crashed through her mind at once.
"About what?"
"About this." He gestured between them. "About you. About what you feel."
"I already told you—"
"You told me you can't stop. I'm asking why."
Sophie blinked. "Why?"
"Why me?" Kael tilted his head. "I'm not kind. I'm not gentle. I killed your predecessor's daughter's mother in an alley and brought the daughter home like a stray cat. I manipulate everyone around me. I'm fourteen years old, Sophie. By any rational measure, I should inspire pity or contempt, not this."
The word hung in the air between them.
This.
"You want to know why I love you," Sophie whispered.
"I want to know what you think love is."
She flinched.
"Because from where I'm standing, it looks more like obsession. It looks like you've attached yourself to the first person who made you feel something in six years and called it love because the alternative is admitting you're lonely."
The words hit her like slaps.
Her Truth Sense screamed that he was right.
"Yes," she breathed. "Maybe. Probably." Tears pricked her eyes. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"I wanted the truth. You gave it." He stood slowly, bringing himself to his full height — still shorter than her, but somehow filling the room. "Here's mine."
He stepped closer.
"I don't love you, Sophie. I won't pretend otherwise. I'm not capable of it right now — maybe not ever. There's someone else I'm searching for. Someone I can't remember but can't stop reaching for. That space in my chest is already occupied."
Sophie's heart cracked.
"But," he continued, "that doesn't mean I don't see you."
"See me?"
"I see a woman who has spent twenty years in a cage, smiling at her jailers, pretending she isn't dying inside. I see a mother who loves her daughters so fiercely she's willing to destroy herself to protect them. I see someone who was built for warmth and kindness and has been forced to bury it under layers of survival."
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I also see someone who is beautiful. And who doesn't know it. And who hasn't been told it in so long she's forgotten it's true."
Sophie's breath stopped.
"You're... what?"
"Beautiful." The word was simple. Direct. Utterly without sentiment. "Your body is in its prime. Your face is..." He studied her with clinical precision. "Objectively exceptional. The only person who doesn't seem to realize it is you."
"I don't—"
"You do." He dropped his hand. "Six years without touch. Six years without desire. Six years of telling yourself you're invisible." His voice hardened. "The Patriarch is a fool. Not for discarding you — that's just politics. But for making you believe you were discardable. There's a difference."
Sophie was shaking.
Not from fear.
From something far more dangerous.
"Kael." Her voice cracked. "What are you doing?"
"I'm telling you the truth. You said you wanted honesty." He stepped closer — close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that his breath stirred the loose hair around her face. "You asked for honesty, Sophie. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"I—"
"Because honesty means I'm going to do something I've been thinking about since the garden. And once I do it, there's no going back. You'll be mine — not in the way you want to be mine, but in the only way I can offer. A fraction. A piece. Just enough to keep you from drowning."
His hand came up.
Cupped the back of her neck.
"Last chance to say no."
Sophie looked at him.
"Yes," she whispered. She didn''t even waste time.
Kael kissed her.
His mouth pressed against hers with a firmness that brooked no argument — not hesitant, not exploratory, but deliberate. His fingers tightened on the back of her neck, holding her in place, and his other hand found her waist and pulled her body against his.
Sophie's mind went blank.
For six years she had imagined this moment. Thousands of variations — tender, passionate, desperate, shy. None of them had prepared her for the reality.
He tasted like Starwhisper Tea and something underneath that was just him — warm and slightly metallic, like licking a battery. His lips were soft but insistent, moving against hers with a confidence that seemed impossible for someone his age.
She moaned into his mouth.
Her hands — shaking, desperate, starving — found his shoulders and clung like he was the only solid thing in a crumbling world.
Kael didn't pull back.
He deepened the kiss, tilting his head, parting her lips with his, tasting her slowly and thoroughly. His hand on her waist slid around to the small of her back, pressing her closer, eliminating the last inch of space between their bodies.
Minutes passed.
One. Two. Three.
Sophie couldn't breathe. Didn't want to breathe. Breathing meant stopping, and stopping meant this would end, and ending meant—
Four. Five.
Kael finally broke the kiss.
A thin line of saliva connected their lips — glistening, obscene, intimate. Sophie gasped for air, her chest heaving, her eyes misty and unfocused. Her legs trembled. Her entire body felt like it had been submerged in warm honey — heavy, sweet, drowning.
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Silver eyes. Wet lips. The faint smirk of a predator who had just caught something delicious.
"Good?" he murmured.
Sophie couldn't speak.
She nodded instead.
Kael's smirk widened.
"Good."