The trees closed in as Malachite descended the narrow path to the old forge tunnels.

  She moved with purpose, a torch in hand, cloak pulled tight, boots crunching softly over moss-covered stone. The wind had a bite to it, but she welcomed the sting. It helped her think.

  It was quiet here.

  Not eerily so, just still. Like the world was holding its breath.

  The entrance to the tunnel was just as she remembered: cracked stone, overgrown ivy, the faint smell of ash that never fully faded. She ducked beneath the arch and stepped into the darkness.

  The tunnel opened slowly carved from rock with smoothed edges, wide enough for two or three to walk side by side. This was where she used to come to train in secret. To breathe.

  She didn’t expect it to feel so small now.

  Her torch cast flickering light on the walls. She passed the old practice posts, a few rusted chains, a pile of shattered bricks that might’ve once been a weapons rack.

  It was safe. Sturdy.

  Still usable.

  She moved deeper.

  Crunch.

  Malachite stopped.

  The sound echoed faintly down the corridor.

  Another set of footsteps followed awkwardly, heavier than hers.

  She didn’t turn.

  “Subtle,” she said flatly. “You stalking everyone today or just me?”

  A pause.

  Then Axel’s voice, sheepish and way too close. “Just you.”

  Malachite turned fully now, torchlight dancing in her eyes as she studied him.

  “You’re not exactly quiet, you know,” she said, voice calm. “I heard you before you even hit the ridge.”

  Axel looked sheepish. “Not my best stealth attempt.”

  “You sounded like a boulder rolling downhill.”

  He gave a half-laugh, shrugging. “I was worried. You disappeared.”

  Malachite’s expression softened just a little. “I’m fine. I just needed some space. And a head start.”

  Axel stepped closer just enough for the light to catch the quiet apology in his eyes. “Still figured I’d check. Didn’t want you alone out here.”

  She tilted her head, fighting the flicker of something fond. “Thanks… for that.”

  His smile grew. “You’re welcome.”

  She turned and began walking again, her pace slower now like she was inviting him to stay.

  “You coming?” she asked over her shoulder.

  Axel followed instantly, grin widening. “Always.”

  The tunnel narrowed, then widened again into a rounded alcove the walls smoothed from years of strikes, scuffs, and fire scoring. Stone practice dummies stood silent and worn at the far end, half-collapsed, their shapes barely visible under layers of dust and time.

  Axel stopped beside her. “This was… a training room?”

  Malachite nodded, brushing her hand along the wall. “One of the first places I ever felt strong. I’d sneak down here when my father said I wasn’t ready. When the world was too loud. Or when I just… wanted to exist without someone watching.”

  She paused, running her fingers over a shallow groove cut into the wall her initials, carved hastily years ago.

  “I bled here. Screamed here…Grew up here.”

  Axel was quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking too soon.

  Malachite turned to him, her expression unreadable. “I used to think if I was good enough, strong enough, someone would see me. Not as a burden. Or a risk. But as… me.”

  Axel’s voice was low, steady. “I see you.”

  She looked away, the emotion flickering in her eyes too fast to catch.

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  “I know,” she said. “And that’s part of the problem.”

  Axel frowned slightly. “Why?”

  “Because I want to believe it. And I’m afraid if I do… I’ll lose everything I’ve built trying to protect myself.”

  He moved cautiously toward her, until they were only a breath apart. “Let me be the one thing you don’t have to protect yourself from.”

  She met his gaze without stepping back.“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  Axel smiled softly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait.”

  Malachite let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

  Then she nodded, and for just a moment, she let her shoulder brush his as they turned to face the room again.

  Axel hesitated, voice low and unsure. “Can I…?”

  He didn’t finish the sentence.

  He didn’t have to.

  Malachite turned back to him, lips parting like she might say no… or say nothing at all.

  Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Her heart felt as though maybe this time, she didn’t have to brace for the impact of being held.

  Axel’s breath caught in his chest then folded his arms around her in return. His grip was careful at first, then stronger as she leaned into him, her forehead resting lightly against his collarbone.

  Neither of them spoke.

  They didn’t have to.

  Because in the quiet of that forgotten room in the shadow of stone and memory this was enough.

  Neither of them moved for a long moment.

  Just the sound of their breathing. The steady rhythm of two hearts finding common ground.

  But eventually, Malachite pulled back slightly, arms still loosely around him. She looked up at Axel with an unreadable expression feeling vulnerable, and something else entirely.

  Then she punched him lightly in the chest.

  He blinked. “Ow?” he said, half laughing, half confused.

  “What’s up with Elise being your patrol partner?” she asked, arching a brow with feigned nonchalance.

  Axel straightened a little like she’d just thrown a dagger near his feet, and he wasn’t sure if it had been a warning or a gift.

  “…Wait,” he said slowly, a grin creeping in. “Was that jealousy?”

  Malachite scoffed and crossed her arms. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You punched me.”

  “Maybe you deserved it.”

  His grin widened, boyish and ridiculous. “You are totally jealous.”

  She looked away mostly so he wouldn’t see the color rising in her cheeks. “I was concerned for Imogen’s safety. Elise has a history of trying to kill her, remember?”

  Axel’s expression sobered a little. “I know. That’s actually why Darius assigned me to her.”

  That made Malachite glance back. “Wait… what?”

  “He wanted someone trustworthy to keep an eye on her,” Axel explained. “If she so much as blinks wrong near Imogen, I’m there. No more accidents. No more shadows.”

  Malachite’s posture eased just a little. “And here I thought you were just into venomous women with strong jawlines,” she muttered.

  Axel smirked. “I mean, I do have a thing for sharp women who can throw me off cliffs.”

  She elbowed him this time. “Keep talking and I’ll test that theory.”

  He laughed, following her as she turned deeper into the tunnel.

  “For the record,” he added, softer now, “you’re the only partner I’ve ever actually wanted.”

  Malachite didn’t answer.

  But the next time he caught her looking at him… she didn’t look away.

  The rest of the tunnel twisted in a wide curve, but no threats waited in the shadows.

  No signs of sabotage.

  No broken stones or lurking glyphs.

  Just dust, quiet air, and old memories tucked into the walls.

  Malachite exhaled as they reached the final bend and came full circle, her torchlight catching the exit shaft that led toward the upper cliffs exactly where it was supposed to be.

  “It’s clear,” she said, almost like she didn’t believe it.

  Axel stepped beside her, brushing some soot off his gloves. “Clear, stable, defensible. Gods, it’s almost suspicious.”

  She let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Don’t jinx it.”

  He grinned. “Noted.”

  They emerged from the tunnel together, blinking in the light as the last rays of the sun stretched over the mountains. Golden and warm. The sky was streaked with rose and amber.

  The kind of sky people wrote songs about.

  Axel walked beside her in comfortable silence as they crossed the garden path toward the upper wing of the keep, where her quarters overlooked the valley. He didn’t speak, didn’t press, just stayed close.

  Like he didn’t want to leave.

  When they reached her door, he slowed, hands tucked behind his back like he was keeping himself from reaching for her.

  “I’ll let you get some rest,” he said, voice quiet now. “You’ve earned it.”

  Malachite tilted her head. “You coming back tomorrow?”

  He smiled “If you want me to.”

  She didn’t answer out loud. She just gave a small, barely-there nod before slipping inside.

  Axel lingered for a beat longer, then finally turned to head down the steps.

  And paused.

  In the center courtyard below, the sunset spilled in warm light across the flagstones and wrapped in it, like they belonged to another world entirely, were Darius and Imogen.

  He had his arms around her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder, her fingers absently tracing his forearm. They were swaying slightly. Just existing together in that golden light.

  Imogen leaned her head back against his chest, laughing at something he whispered. Darius turned to kiss her temple, then her cheek, and finally her lips.

  Axel lingered near the top of the stairs, before turning to continue his way to the barracks, when he glanced down and saw them.

  Axel made a face.

  “Gods,” he muttered with a grin, loud enough for them to hear. “Get a room.”

  Imogen’s head snapped up at the sound, eyes going wide.

  “AXEL!”