Chapter 87: Chapter 87 – The Distance Between Them

Chapter 87 – The Distance Between Them

POV: Liora

The strangest part wasn’t the whispers.

It wasn’t the way wolves stared when they thought I wasn’t looking, or how some of them lowered their heads while others avoided meeting my eyes altogether.

It wasn’t even the fact that I could feel things now that I had never been able to feel before.

The strangest part was Kael.

Three days ago, I would have said there was no one in Blackmoor easier to understand than him.

Kael was many things. Stubborn. Controlling when he thought someone was in danger. Annoyingly protective. But he was never difficult to read.

If he was angry, I knew.

If he was worried, I knew.

If he was hiding something, I usually knew that too.

Now I wasn’t so sure.

I sat near the window of my chamber, watching the training grounds below while absentmindedly tracing my fingers over the edge of a book I hadn’t actually read.

The bond had changed after the awakening.

That much was impossible to ignore.

Before, it had felt like a connection.

Now it felt like awareness.

Not complete awareness. Not enough to read his thoughts or know every detail of what he was feeling.

But enough.

Enough to notice things I never would have before.

Enough to know when he entered the fortress.

Enough to know when something was bothering him.

Enough to know that he had spent the last three days carefully avoiding being alone with me.

The realization settled heavily in my chest.

Not because it hurt.

Because it didn’t make sense.

Kael had nearly broken down the healer’s door when I was unconscious.

Elara had told me that much after finally recovering enough to speak normally again.

He hadn’t left my side.

He hadn’t slept.

He hadn’t allowed anyone to move me.

And yet the moment I woke up, something shifted.

Not dramatically.

Not enough for anyone else to notice.

But I noticed.

The bond noticed.

Every conversation felt careful.

Every touch felt measured.

Every glance felt shorter than it used to.

At first, I thought I was imagining it.

Then I started paying attention.

And once I did, I couldn’t stop seeing it.

A knock sounded at the door.

I didn’t need the bond to know who it was.

"Come in."

The door opened immediately.

Kael stepped inside.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

The bond reacted instantly.

Concern.

Relief.

Guilt.

The last emotion caught me off guard.

It was there so often now.

So constant that I was beginning to recognize it before anything else.

His eyes moved over me automatically.

Checking.

Assessing.

Making sure I was fine.

I tried not to smile.

Some things never changed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

The question sounded normal.

Almost casual.

Almost.

"I’m fine."

His gaze narrowed.

We both knew he didn’t believe that answer.

"I am," I added.

"You nearly destroyed yourself."

"There seems to be a growing list of things people think should have killed me."

His mouth twitched slightly.

Not quite a smile.

Not quite amusement.

Something in between.

For a moment, silence settled between us.

The kind that used to be comfortable.

Now it felt awkward.

And that bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

Kael shifted his weight slightly.

The movement was small.

Most people wouldn’t have noticed.

I did.

Because it looked suspiciously like someone preparing to leave.

Again.

Something inside me finally snapped.

Not angrily.

Just tired.

Tired of pretending I didn’t see it.

Tired of pretending the bond wasn’t practically shouting his emotions at me.

"You’re doing it again."

His expression tightened.

"Doing what?"

I laughed softly.

Not because anything was funny.

Because the question was ridiculous.

"That."

"What?"

"Acting like everything is normal."

His jaw flexed.

The bond reacted immediately.

Guilt.

There it was again.

Stronger this time.

I stood slowly from the chair.

Kael’s attention sharpened instantly.

The protective instinct was still there.

Still automatic.

Still Kael.

Which only made this harder to understand.

I walked toward him.

He didn’t move.

But I felt the hesitation through the bond.

The uncertainty.

The restraint.

The fear.

Not fear of me.

Fear for me.

The realization hit me so suddenly that I stopped walking.

That was it.

That was what had been bothering me.

Everyone else feared what I had become.

Kael didn’t.

He feared what it had cost me.

I stared at him for a long moment.

The bond carried another wave of guilt.

Heavy.

Relentless.

The kind a person carried when they blamed themselves for something they couldn’t undo.

And suddenly everything made sense.

The careful conversations.

The distance.

The hesitation.

The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

He wasn’t pulling away because I had awakened.

He wasn’t pulling away because he thought I was dangerous.

He was pulling away because every time he looked at me, he remembered exactly how it happened.

I swallowed.

The realization hurt more than I expected.

Not because he blamed me.

Because he blamed himself.

"Kael."

His eyes met mine immediately.

I took another step closer.

This time he didn’t retreat.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t look away.

I could feel his emotions clearly now.

Concern.

Protectiveness.

Love.

And underneath all of it—

Guilt.

"You think this is your fault."

His expression didn’t change.

That alone was answer enough.

The silence stretched.

Neither of us spoke.

The bond filled the space between us anyway.

Finally, I stopped directly in front of him.

Close enough to touch.

Close enough to see the exhaustion he still carried.

Close enough to notice the way his hand twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for me but wasn’t sure he had the right.

My chest tightened.

Not because I was angry.

Because I understood.

And somehow that made it worse.

I lifted my gaze to his.

"Tell me the truth."

His throat moved.

For the first time since I met him, Kael looked uncertain.

Not weak.

Not afraid.

Just uncertain.

The sight was strangely unsettling.

I held his gaze.

Waiting.

Then I asked the question that had been growing inside me for days.

"Are you afraid of me..."

My voice was quiet.

Steady.

"...or of what I did for you?"