Chapter 74: The Warmth after a Nightmare

[Imperial Palace — Kael’s Chamber — Before Dawn]

"Wake up before it devours you."

Kael’s eyes flew open.

A strangled gasp tore from his throat as he lurched upright, one hand clutching desperately at the sheets while the other pressed against his chest. For several heartbeats, he could not breathe. He could not think. His body had awakened, but some terrified part of his soul was still trapped beneath that crimson moon.

The black desert, the endless dunes of ash-dark sand, and the sky without a single star.

And beneath that monstrous red moon... Lytharion was kneeling and crying. Kael’s eyes darted wildly through the darkness of his chamber, nothing.

No desert stretched beyond the walls. No blood-red moon hung over the horizon. No broken figure knelt upon the black sands.

He was in the Imperial Palace.

His chamber surrounded him once more, its ancient obsidian walls rising silently into the darkness. Bronze lamps burned low within their carved holders, their dying flames trembling as though even fire feared the hour before dawn. Pale moonlight entered through the latticed windows, falling across the polished floor in patterns resembling the sacred symbols of forgotten gods.

Kael stared at them without truly seeing them as his breathing came in shallow, uneven breaths. Slowly, he brought a trembling hand to his chest; his heart was pounding so violently that it hurt.

"What..."

His voice cracked. Kael swallowed, forcing air into his lungs.

"It was a dream."

The words sounded fragile, almost meaningless as he closed his eyes and tried again.

"It was only a dream."

But the moment he said it, the memory returned, a scream, a woman covered in blood and Lytharion’s trembling hands.

Those golden eyes filled with grief so profound that Kael had never imagined such an expression could exist upon the face of the Shadow King.

And then—

You’re alive.

Kael’s breath caught as he opened his eyes again. The chamber was still there, but the terror remained, and then a familiar voice came from beside him.

"Beloved..."

Kael froze as he saw Lytharion was there.

The Shadow King sat beside him in the darkness, as though he had been awake for some time. His long black hair fell loosely around his shoulders, strands of it catching the faint golden glow of the lamps. His black robes were slightly disordered, and his golden eyes were fixed entirely upon Kael.

There was no anger in them, only concern. Deep, immediate concern.

"Beloved, are you all right?"

Kael stared at him; for one terrible moment, he could not distinguish the man before him from the figure he had seen beneath the red moon.

The same face, the same golden eyes, and the same voice, but this Lytharion was not crying. There was no blood upon his robes, and there was no lifeless woman in his arms.

He was here with Kael, and yet Kael’s body refused to believe that he was safe. His fingers began trembling again.

"L...Lytharion..."

The Shadow King’s expression changed instantly, the way Kael’s eyes searched his face as though trying to convince himself that he was truly awake.

Lytharion did not ask another question; he simply reached for him as his arms closed around Kael and pulled him firmly against his chest. Kael’s forehead pressed against the warmth of his body, and the moment he felt those familiar arms surrounding him, something inside him finally broke.

His fingers curled into Lytharion’s robe he held on hard. As though the moment he released him, the darkness would return and drag him beneath that red moon again.

Lytharion lowered his head, one hand sliding gently through Kael’s hair while his other arm remained securely around his waist.

"Come here, beloved. I have you." Kael’s breathing shuddered. Lytharion’s voice dropped into a quiet murmur. "You are safe."

Kael closed his eyes as his throat tightened.

"I...I keep seeing it."

Lytharion’s hand continued moving slowly through his hair. "It’s okay, beloved; everything is fine..."

Kael’s fingers tightened against his robe.

"I saw you; you were crying."

For the briefest moment, Lytharion’s hand stopped. Kael felt it as he opened his eyes. Lytharion was looking down at him; his expression remained calm, but something ancient had stirred behind those golden eyes.

Kael continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You were holding a woman."

Silence settled between them.

Outside the chamber, somewhere deep within the Imperial Palace, a bronze bell moved faintly in the wind.

Clink.

The sound seemed impossibly distant. Kael shivered. "She was covered in blood, and you were...you were crying as though your entire world had ended."

Lytharion slowly brushed his thumb beneath Kael’s eye. "It was a dream."

Kael shook his head.

"It felt real."

Lytharion looked into his eyes as his hands gently cupped the back of Kael’s head.

"You are not beneath that red moon. You are here. In your chamber. In your empire. In my arms."

Kael stared at him, then, almost desperately, he asked, "What if I really was there before?"

Lytharion said nothing. Kael searched his face. "What if it wasn’t merely a dream? It did not feel like a dream...it felt...like some memory."

The Shadow King’s gaze deepened. Kael’s breathing became uneven again as Kael’s fingers trembled against Lytharion’s chest. "It was...filled with horror, the horror I never want to witness again."

The warmth in Lytharion’s expression disappeared, only for a moment, but Kael noticed. He noticed the way the shadows beneath the bed seemed to lengthen.

"Why did I have such a horrible dream, Lytharion?"

Lytharion did not answer, and the question hung between them like a blade. Lytharion’s arms tightened around him, not enough to hurt, and yet something dark had awakened behind the Shadow King’s golden eyes.

Kael felt it, the ancient deity within him. The one who had ruled shadows before kingdoms had names, the one whose wrath had once shaken temples and made priests tremble beneath the gaze of the heavens.

But when Lytharion looked at Kael, that darkness softened again, and he lowered his forehead against Kael’s hair.

"Forget what you saw, beloved." His voice was gentle, almost painfully gentle. "Whatever touched your dream has no claim upon you now."

Kael stared at him.

"But—"

Lytharion pressed a quiet kiss against his hair. "You are here with me; that is what matters."

Kael’s resistance slowly faded as he leaned closer, hiding his face against Lytharion’s chest. "I don’t want you to leave. Please stay beside me."

The words came out so quietly that they almost disappeared into the silence. Lytharion heard them, and his hand moved slowly through Kael’s hair.

"I will not...I will never leave my beloved ever. Not even in dreams."

Kael closed his eyes for a moment; Lytharion simply held him, and then his lips touched Kael’s forehead.

"By the blood of the ancient gods." His voice was low and solemn. "By the darkness that existed before the first dawn, and by every shadow that has ever answered my name—"

He drew Kael closer.

"I will not abandon you until you do."

Kael exhaled shakily; some of the terror finally began to loosen its grip. He remained curled against Lytharion, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

After a while, Lytharion murmured, "Do you still feel frightened?"

Kael nodded.

"A little."

A faint smile touched Lytharion’s lips. "Then perhaps I know what my beloved needs."

Kael looked up.

"What?"

Lytharion brushed a stray lock of hair away from his face. "A warm bath."

Kael blinked; despite everything, a faintly confused expression crossed his face. "A bath?"

Lytharion’s smile deepened.

"A warm bath. Would you like your husband to give you a warm bath, beloved?"

Kael stared at him for a moment before his shoulders finally relaxed, then he nodded.

"...All right."

Lytharion rose, but he did not release him. Instead, he gathered Kael into his arms as though carrying him was the most natural thing in the world.

Kael instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck. "Lytharion..."

"Hm?"

"You really aren’t going to leave?"

The Shadow King looked down at him; there was no teasing in his expression now, only devotion.

"Not even for the space between one heartbeat and the next."

Kael’s eyes softened; he buried his face against Lytharion’s chest. A quiet warmth returned to his expression for the first time since he had awakened.

Lytharion carried him toward the bathing chamber, his footsteps almost soundless against the obsidian floor.

Behind them, the bronze lamps continued to burn, but as they crossed beneath the carved archway, one flame suddenly shuddered.

Then another, for the briefest instant, the shadows along the chamber wall twisted into the shape of a great black wolf, watching and waiting. And beneath the distant silence of the palace, something seemed to whisper from far beyond the walls—

something neither Kael nor Lytharion could hear, something ancient and something that had been waiting beneath the red moon long before either of them remembered its name.