The throne room of Ashfall Keep—rebuilt from the ruin left behind by war—stood gleaming in obsidian and gold, polished stone reflecting torchlight. The banners of the united kingdoms now flew together above the throne.
Kael sat upon it, not in arrogance, but burden. His newly forged crown—made from woven blacksteel and a single eternal flame—sat heavy on his brow. Seraphine stood beside him, her eyes thoughtful as the envoys of surrounding kingdoms poured into the hall.
"They come now that the smoke has cleared," she murmured, fingers grazing his wrist.
Kael gave a half-smile. "They come because you burned the sky. I just held the sword."
"You saved the world."
"We both did."
The emissary from the Solari Enclave bowed deeply. "The flame has chosen a king. The light has chosen a queen."
The room broke into applause.
Kael glanced at Seraphine, voice low and hoarse. "You know they'll want a royal bond—more than just political."
She looked at him, lips quirking. "What if I already wanted it?"
He didn't speak. He simply stood.
And left the throne room with her hand in his.
They burst into Kael's chamber moments later, the heavy doors slamming behind them. It was like a dam had broken—weeks, months of restraint boiling over.
Kael backed her against the stone wall, his hands braced on either side of her head. Seraphine's breathing hitched as his lips hovered near hers.
"You lit the sky on fire," he growled softly. "You terrify me."
"Good," she whispered, tugging him closer by his tunic. "I want you to burn."
Their mouths collided, the kiss raw and desperate. He kissed her like a dying man starved for oxygen—and she kissed him like she needed his fire to breathe.
Seraphine's hands tangled in his hair, her body arching against his. Kael's grip roamed from her waist to her thighs, lifting her as if she weighed nothing and pressing her against the cool stone. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively.
"You're fire," he said hoarsely, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "But you're not mine to control."
"I've always been yours," she whispered.
Kael carried her to the bed with careful strength, laying her down and crawling over her, the muscles in his back rippling as he peeled his tunic off.
She gasped as he kissed his way down her collarbone, the warmth of his mouth leaving flames in his wake. Her fingers trembled as she undid the ties of her dress, and Kael paused, eyes dark and reverent.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
She answered by pulling him down and kissing him deeply, with a fire that belonged to queens and stars and deathless things.
Their bodies moved like a storm—heat, gasps, tangled limbs and whispered names.
Kael's touch was both worship and wildfire.
Seraphine's nails left trails across his back, and when they finally shattered together, it wasn't just passion.
It was destiny.
They lay entangled in silk sheets, her head resting on his chest, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder.
"We survived gods," she murmured sleepily. "Now what?"
"Now we rebuild. Rule. Love. And protect it all."
He kissed her temple, voice low.
"And maybe…" he added, voice suddenly softer, "we finally start a future where we're not haunted by the past."
Seraphine tilted her head. "You mean… a family?"
Kael looked at her with molten eyes.
"A kingdom of fire… needs heirs of flame."