Kamrynn’s POV
I stared at the key in my hand, turning it over between my fingers, the weight of it sinking into my skin.
What did it open?
My mind ran through possibilities, but nothing seemed to make sense. Lorien had hidden it carefully, tucked away where I’d never think to look.
My hand drifted up, almost absentmindedly, brushing against the shackle jewelry thing around my neck.
I froze.
A keyhole. That’s right, the other day I realized it had a keyhole. Which is very much strange for something that’s supposed to be jewelry.
I turned the key over in my palm, my fingers tracing its cool, metallic surface. It was small, unassuming-yet its existence unsettled me in a way I couldn’t quite put into words.
I inhaled sharply, my grip tightening on the key as realization slithered through my mind like a shadowy whisper.
Could this key… unlock it?
If it did, that would mean this wasn’t a necklace.
It wasn’t a piece of jewelry meant to symbolize love, devotion, or commitment.
It was a shackle.
A lump formed in my throat, a dull ringing filling my ears as I stared at the key in my hand. I remembered Lorien had placed this around my neck so gently, so reverently. His ruby eyes had been filled with warmth as he fastened it, whispering that it was a sacred bond between them-a promise, an unbreakable connection.
Had it all been a lie?
Why would he call it a symbol of love if it was something that locked me in?
My breath grew uneven. I didn’t want to believe it. Lorien had been nothing but kind to me, patient, affectionate. He was my husband-the only person I trusted, the only person who truly cared about me.
Then why hide the key?
A deep unease twisted inside me, sinking its claws into my chest. I wanted to tell myself there was an explanation, that I was overthinking, that this was all a misunderstanding…
But something about this felt wrong.
Just as my mind spiraled further into doubt, a sound shattered the silence.
Click.
The sharp turn of a lock.
The front door creaked open.
My body went rigid.
Lorien was back.
My body jolted into action. I scrambled to replace the lampshade, making sure it sat perfectly in place. The room-had I left anything out of place? My eyes darted around, scanning every inch to make sure there was no sign of my earlier search.
The key.
I shoved it into the folds of my clothes just as the bedroom door swung open.
The moment Lorien stepped into the room, I knew I had made a mistake.
He paused at the doorway, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as they swept over me. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the shift in the air-an almost imperceptible tension settling between us.
A strange look flickered across his face, like he was studying me, trying to decipher something.
My pulse pounded wildly in my chest.
Calm down. Calm down.
I had hidden the key. The lampshade was back in place. The room looked untouched. There was no reason for him to suspect anything.
So why did I feel like I was already caught?
Lorien moved.
His long strides carried him toward me in three fluid steps, his presence overwhelming as he loomed over me. He moved like a predator, graceful yet deliberate, his piercing gaze locked onto mine.
“Why are you so nervous?” he asked, his voice deceptively soft.
I swallowed hard.
“I’m not,” I forced out, but the words sounded hollow even to me.
Lorien’s sharp gaze flicked over my face, and before I could react, he lifted his hand and wiped the dampness from my forehead with a silk handkerchief.
I hadn’t even realized I was sweating.
I stiffened under his touch, my mind racing.
Why was I reacting like this? Why did I feel this deep-rooted fear curling inside me like a snake coiling tighter and tighter?
He loved me, didn’t he?
Lorien was the only person who had ever taken care of me. He was patient, affectionate, always making sure I was comfortable. If he had hidden the key, there had to be a good reason for it.
Didn’t there?
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to sound composed. “It’s nothing. I’m just… hot. It’s been warm today, hasn’t it?”
Lorien didn’t respond right away. His fingers traced lightly over my cheek before his hand dropped to his side.
And then, his voice turned sharper, colder.
“Don’t lie to me, Elodie.”
I flinched.
The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. I felt like a rabbit caught in a wolf’s snare, pinned under the weight of something I didn’t fully understand.
I shook my head quickly. “I’m not lying. I swear, I-”
“You’re trembling.” His voice was eerily calm, but I could hear the underlying edge in it. “And your heart-it’s beating too fast. Almost like you got caught doing something you shouldn’t have…”
His eyes darkened slightly.
“Or,” he mused, tilting his head, “like you’re afraid of me.”
My breath hitched.
No.
No, no, no.
I couldn’t let him see my fear.
I couldn’t let him know what I had found.
If he suspected anything, I would never get the chance to uncover the truth.
I forced myself to relax, to push down the swirling panic rising in my chest.
Taking a deep breath, I took a step closer-then another-until I was pressed against him.
And then, before he could say another word, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly.
Lorien stiffened.
For a moment, I thought he’d pull away. But then, slowly, his muscles loosened, and his arms came around me, his warmth sinking into my skin.
I felt his body heat up against mine, but he didn’t push me away.
“I just want a simple, happy life with you,” I murmured against his chest, my fingers tightening against the fabric of his shirt. “But when you keep secrets, especially about your condition… it scares me, Lorien. I worry about you.”
His breath shuddered slightly, his grip on me firm but no longer tense. His fingers slid into my hair, stroking through the strands with deliberate care.
“I’m fine,” he murmured. “What I’m going through… it will pass soon. You don’t need to worry about me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Liar.
But I didn’t say it.
Instead, I pulled back, offering him a small smile. “Go rest,” I said softly. “I’ll prepare something for us.”
Lorien studied me for a moment before exhaling through his nose. “Fine,” he said, then smirked. “But I’m watching you do your magic.”
I let out a breath of relief, nodding before leading him to the living room.
As I moved around the kitchen, Lorien settled into a chair, his red slits following my every movement. He was relaxed now, far more than he had been earlier.
“You know,” he said suddenly, “this reminds me of the fireball games we used to play back in Solaria.”
I glanced at him curiously. “Fireball games?”
His lips curved into a nostalgic smile. “It was a competitive sport,” he explained. “A mix of strategy, reflexes, and endurance. The goal was to keep the fireball airborne, passing it between players while making sure it didn’t burn you. The longer you kept it in play, the hotter and more unstable it got.”
I frowned. “That sounds incredibly dangerous.”
He chuckled. “It was. But that’s what made it fun. The real challenge was that you could only touch the fireball if you had control over your flames. It was a test of skill. The best teams could keep the fireball going for hours.”
I arched a brow. “And I’m guessing you were one of the best?”
Lorien’s smile widened. “When I teamed up with my two closest friends, we never lost. We had a system-one of us controlled the flame’s intensity, another controlled the movement, and the last one focused on offense. We were unbeatable.”
He leaned back, a faraway look in his eyes. “It was the best feeling. The adrenaline, the rush of the flames, the roar of the crowd… Gods, we loved it.”
I watched him, my heart tightening at how happy he looked. But then, just as quickly as the excitement had filled his face, it began to fade.
His smile softened, his eyes dimming with something else.
Guilt.
He always had that glow when he spoke about his people, but afterward, the sadness would creep in-the weight of being the one who survived.
I set the food down in front of him before placing my hand over his. “Lorien.”
He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts before giving me a small smile. “Sorry. Got lost for a moment.”
I squeezed his hand gently before picking up my own fork. “Tell me another story,” I said. “One where you don’t almost set yourself on fire.”
Lorien chuckled, shaking his head as he picked up his utensils.
And just like that, the tension lifted.
We ate together, sharing stories, laughter, and warmth.
But beneath it all, I couldn’t shake the heavy feeling in my chest.
I liked this. I really liked this.
And I secretly hoped that whatever I found out…
It wouldn’t change things between us.