Ashes of Love by Amavi Serin

The training courtyard was empty that evening.

No guards sparring, no wolves in shift, no drills being called.

Just the three of us.

Me, Kaleb, and Max.

We used to spend hours out here in our younger years — bruises, laughter, blood, all of it earned. But we weren't boys anymore.

And tonight, the air felt heavier.

Like the past was breathing too close.

I leaned against the railing, eyes on the distant cliffs. The same cliffs where I'd stood not long ago — holding her.

Serenya.

She hadn't said much.

She didn't need to.

It was what she wasn't saying that haunted me.

And the look on her face when I touched her…

Something shifted.

And it hadn't shifted back.

"So," Max said, biting into an apple he hadn't asked permission to bring, "are we going to talk about it, or are you going to keep brooding until your eyebrows fuse into one angry line?"

I didn't answer.

"Because you're brooding," he continued. "It's more than usual. Which means it's not politics, or Elion, or those bastards from the South Council. It's her, isn't it?"

I finally looked at him. "You think this is a joke?"

Max raised his hands. "Not even a little."

Kaleb, quiet until now, closed his tablet and sat down on the stone bench across from me.

"You felt it," he said simply.

"I felt something," I muttered. "I also felt heartburn last week. Doesn't mean the universe is whispering fate in my ear."

Max snorted. "Come on, Kael. You've barely slept. You check her security feeds. You gave her a rare tonic. You watch her like a soldier who forgot how to drop the gun."

I gritted my teeth. "She had a panic collapse in my corridor."

"And you carried her like she was made of glass."

I pushed off the railing.

"It's not possible," I said flatly.

Kaleb tilted his head. "You sound very sure of that."

"Because I am sure."

"Why?"

I turned slowly.

And for a moment, I let the truth slip through the cracks.

"Because I already had one," I said, voice low. "Or I was supposed to."

Max fell silent.

Kaleb didn't move.

"The Seer said it," I continued. "When I was seventeen. That I had one match. One bond. One true counterpart. And that she was gone. Long before I'd even feel the pull. She died during the purge, they said."

Max spoke quietly. "Seers aren't gods, Kael. They get it wrong. Or the timing twists."

Kaleb leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Or," he said, "she didn't die."

I froze.

Kaleb's voice was level. Calm. Like he was talking about a war strategy. But his eyes burned with certainty.

"She was a child when the purge happened. If someone wanted to protect her, they could've hidden her. Changed her name. Suppressed her magic. Buried her in plain sight."

Max nodded slowly. "And if she's only now turning twenty…"

"The bond would start pulling," Kaleb finished. "Especially for you."

I stared at them both.

Because the possibility…

It was impossible.

Wasn't it?

"No," I said. "It's not her."

Max tilted his head. "Then why do you keep saying her name when you're not talking?"

I didn't have an answer.

So I turned away.

And for the first time since the night my parents died, I was afraid.

Not of war.

Not of loss.

But of hope.