Caleb stormed into the room, his heart hammering as his eyes locked on Celestia. She was sprawled on the bed, trembling violently, her face pale and drawn. Her hair clung to her sweat-dampened skin, and her lips moved with broken murmurs.

  “No... no more… Ryker…” Her voice, hoarse and frail, shattered the air. “Please! Please stop!”

  For a moment, Caleb stood frozen. He had seen her stand against horrors that would break the strongest of men. Yet here she was—so fragile, so utterly lost in her torment.

  “Celestia, you’re safe now,” he said firmly, stepping closer. He poured as much certainty as he could into the words, though they felt hollow even to him. It was all he could offer—his presence, his voice—but her tormented gaze didn’t register him.

  The Dome surrounding her flickered ominously, volatile pulses of energy rippling through the air. Caleb reached out, brushing his hand against it cautiously. The moment his fingers grazed its surface, the magic lashed out violently.

  A surge of raw force struck him square in the chest, sending him careening across the room. He slammed into the stone wall with a sickening thud, a choked cry of pain escaping his lips.

  “Damn it” Caleb cursed sharply, his voice laced with both pain and anger. His ribs screamed in protest as he tried to rise, but the room spun wildly around him.

  “Stay down, you stubborn fool!” Elysian’s voice rang out, sharp and urgent. He was at Caleb’s side instantly, his hands glowing with a soft, ethereal blue light. “Let me heal you before you go and get yourself killed.”

  “I don’t have time for this!” Caleb snarled, wincing as Elysian pressed his hands against his ribs. The warmth of healing magic spread through him, easing the sharp ache.

  “Then make time,” Elysian shot back, his voice uncharacteristically stern. “Because if you try again, that Dome will kill you.”

  Caleb’s gaze snapped to him, golden eyes blazing. “I’m not just going to stand here and watch!”

  Elysian’s expression darkened. “And if you die trying to reach her, what good will that do? Do you think she’d forgive herself for that? Do you even care?”

  The words struck like a whip, and Caleb fell silent, his jaw tightening. His gaze flicked back to Celestia, her body trembling as the chaotic pulses of magic rippled through the room. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

  Elysian stood and moved toward the bed, his steps measured. “Her mana flow is unstable. If this continues, it will rip her apart,” he said grimly, the glow of his hands intensifying. He glanced back at Caleb, his tone softening. “Let me stabilize her first. She’ll need you later, but not like this.”

  Caleb didn’t respond, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to argue. Every instinct screamed at him to do something—to act. But Elysian was right. This was beyond him.

  “Fine,” he ground out, stepping back with visible reluctance. “But if you can’t—”

  “I will,” Elysian interrupted his voice firm.

  He turned his full attention to Celestia, raising his hands over her trembling form. The unstable energy around her hissed and crackled, resisting his presence, but Elysian’s magic poured over her like a gentle tide. Slowly, the volatile pulses began to calm, the crackling energy dimming as the Dome flickered and finally dissolved.

  Caleb watched with bated breath as Celestia’s trembling subsided, her breathing evening out. She looked so small, so breakable, and the sight unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

  “She’s stable now,” Elysian said, his voice quieter as he stepped back. The glow of his magic faded, though his face was drawn with exhaustion. “Her mana is still weak, but she’ll recover. Just give her time.”

  Caleb moved closer, his expression hard as he studied her. The relief he should have felt was buried beneath a thick haze of frustration and helplessness. “Time,” he muttered bitterly. “That’s all I’ve got, isn’t it?”

  Elysian approached him again, placing a steadying hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “You’ve done more than you realize, Caleb. You were the last person with her in the Safe Zone. When she wakes, she’ll need you to anchor her.”

  Caleb’s lips pressed into a thin line. He wanted to believe that—needed to—but every part of him screamed that he was failing her. He was supposed to be the one in control, the one with all the answers. But with her, nothing he did was enough.

  “What if I’m the last person she wants to see?” he asked quietly, the question laced with rare vulnerability.

  Elysian gave him a small, knowing smile. “Then you wait. Be there for her, even if she doesn’t realize she needs you. She will.”

  Caleb nodded stiffly, his gaze never leaving Celestia. The frustration, the helplessness—it all churned inside him like a storm, but for now, he had no choice but to wait.

  Elysian’s words echoed in Caleb’s mind as he stood by the bedside, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he could will himself to act—or to stay still. The storm inside him raged on, his usual composure cracking at the edges. For someone always in control, this felt like walking blindfolded into the dark.

  A faint movement caught his eye. Celestia stirred, her breathing no longer shallow but steadying. His heart skipped at the sight—a small shift, but enough to ignite a sliver of hope amidst the tempest. Slowly, he stepped closer, his boots soundless against the floor as he neared her. He simply stood there for a moment, staring down at her pale, weary form.

  What if she didn’t want to see him? The thought clawed at his chest, but the answer was already clear in Elysian’s calm reminder. Be there, even if she doesn’t realize she needs you.

  Taking a steadying breath, Caleb lowered himself to the edge of the bed, leaving a careful distance between them. Every move felt heavy like the weight of his own uncertainty was dragging him down.

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  Caleb shifted in his seat on the edge of the bed, careful to keep a respectful distance. He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees as he watched Celestia stir. Her lashes fluttered, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if she would wake, but then her eyes slowly opened, the soft glow of purple meeting his golden gaze.

  “My lady,” he said gently, his voice steady, though his heart still wrestled with the unfamiliar chaos of emotion. “You’re awake.”

  Celestia blinked, her expression hazy at first. She took in the unfamiliar room, the soft linens beneath her, and then him—Caleb Nightglen, sitting so close yet exuding the same quiet, careful presence she’d come to associate with him. “My lord…” she murmured, her voice hoarse, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you…”

  He tilted his head slightly, a flicker of curiosity passing over his features. “For what, my lady?”

  “I… don’t know,” she admitted softly, her brows furrowing as if searching for the answer. “For being here… I suppose.”

  Caleb nodded, his expression unreadable. “You’re at Nightglen Manor,” he explained, his tone calm and even, though he studied her face carefully for any signs of discomfort. “The dungeon healer said a hospital wouldn’t suffice. I wasn’t sure where you lived, so this was the safest place I could think of.”

  Her lips parted, confusion and emotion swirling in her eyes. “Why?” she asked after a long pause, her voice trembling. “Why would you care so much? Why didn’t you just leave me—like everyone else did?”

  Her words struck him like a blade, but he didn’t flinch. He held her gaze, the weight of her question settling heavily between them. “Because I couldn’t,” he said simply, though his voice softened. “It was clear you needed help, and I…” He hesitated, his usual eloquence faltering. “I don’t leave people behind. Not if I can help it.”

  She stared at him, her eyes searching his face for something—reassurance, perhaps. “I… don’t know what to say,” she murmured, her vulnerability laid bare.

  “You don’t need to say anything, my lady,” Caleb replied, leaning back slightly to give her more space. “If you wish to leave, I’ll take you home myself. But you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. I’ll keep my distance if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

  For a moment, Celestia said nothing. She looked down at her hands, her thoughts racing before she whispered, almost inaudibly, “Your presence alone… it makes me feel safer.”

  Caleb froze at her words, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face before he let out a quiet, dry laugh. “Safe,” he echoed, his tone tinged with wry humour. “That’s a curious choice of words, considering you flung me across the room with your dome.”

  Celestia’s eyes widened, her body tensing as she tried to push herself up on the bed. “I—what? I did that?” she asked, her voice cracking under the weight of alarm and guilt.

  Caleb chuckled dryly, shifting slightly on the edge of the bed. “You sure did. Flung me across the room like a ragdoll. Elysian patched me up before you even woke. And trust me, my back will probably be reminding me of that for the next week.” His words carried dry humour, but there was a warmth in his eyes that softened the tease.

  Her face flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and distress. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her hands gripping the blanket tightly as if it might ground her. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” he interrupted, his voice steady but softened with understanding. “It wasn’t your fault. You were unconscious, fighting to stay alive. That dome… it’s a testament to how strong you are, even when you’re not fully aware of it.”

  Her gaze dropped to her lap, her fingers clutching the fabric with a nervous edge. “Still… you shouldn’t have gotten hurt because of me.”

  Caleb leaned forward just enough to meet her gaze, his voice steady but tinged with dry humour. “I’ll be fine,” he said with a faint smirk. “I’ve taken worse hits, though I’ll ensure I’m better prepared next time.”

  Her brow furrowed, guilt flashing across her face. “I didn’t mean… any of it. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “I know,” he said softly, his tone careful, deliberate. “But sometimes we don’t get much of a choice. The world isn’t always kind, my lady.”

  She looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting nervously. “That doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Caleb admitted. He hesitated momentarily, then reached out, his hand hovering before resting lightly over hers. “But it shows you’ve got strength. More than most.”

  Her shoulders relaxed slightly at his touch, though her voice remained barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

  Caleb gave a small nod, his expression thoughtful. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I wasn’t much help back there.” He chuckled softly, leaning back. “Next time, though? I’ll be ready. You won’t have to face it alone.”

  Her lips curved into a faint smile, the tension in her posture easing. “Next time, huh? That’s… unexpected.”

  He raised a brow, his grin returning with a teasing edge. “Considering you tossed me across the room, I’d say it’s fair to expect the unexpected. But I’d rather be thrown into a wall again than stand back and do nothing.”

  That earned him a soft laugh, her first real one since she’d woken. “I’ll try to keep the dome magic to a minimum.”

  “Appreciated,” Caleb quipped, his tone light. Then he grew serious again, studying her with quiet intensity. “But in all honesty, I’m impressed. What you did back there… it wasn’t just magic. You kept fighting, even when it must’ve felt impossible. That’s not something most people can do.”

  She looked up at him, her expression a mix of surprise and gratitude. “You really mean that?”

  “I do,” he said simply. “You didn’t give up, which says everything about who you are.”

  Her lips parted as if she wanted to say more, but instead, a soft, breathy laugh escaped her. “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or a warning.”

  “Maybe a bit of both,” Caleb replied, his grin softening into something warmer. “But if there’s a next time, I’ll ensure I’m strong enough to help you. Properly.”

  Her smile lingered this time, its warmth enough to ease the weight in the room. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to assure him that the heaviness she carried had begun to lighten. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable but rather a brief reprieve, a chance for both to process the fragile connection forming between them.

  Then, her stomach growled loudly, shattering the quiet with an unceremonious rumble. Celestia flushed, the colour rushing to her cheeks, and mumbled, “That… was definitely my stomach.” Her hands instinctively moved to cover the source of the sound as if that could somehow muffle the echoes of her body’s demands.

  Caleb chuckled, the sound low and genuine, a rare glimpse of warmth breaking through his usual reserve. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, a fleeting moment of levity in the midst of their uncertain circumstances. “It seems the manor owes you more than just rest,” he said, standing gracefully. His movements were fluid, belying the strength hidden beneath his lean frame. Moving to the door, he called out, “Mrs. Thompson, could you please bring a light breakfast for our guest?”

  When he turned back to her, Celestia watched him with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty, her face still flushed from embarrassment. The contrast between his composed demeanour and her own flustered state only heightened her self-consciousness. Yet, there was something reassuring in his calm presence, a steadiness that seemed to anchor her in the moment. For now, they didn’t need to fill the space with heavy words or unravel the many questions that lingered between them. The silence held an understanding, a momentary truce that allowed them both to simply exist without the weight of their pasts bearing down upon them.