Chapter 62: Chapter 62 – The Fear Kael Won’t Say Out Loud

Chapter 62 – The Fear Kael Won’t Say Out Loud

POV: Kael

By the time I realized she had started training again, it wasn’t because anyone reported it to me..It was because she stopped pretending.

Liora had always been careful, even before everything fell apart. Careful with her words, careful with her reactions, careful with how much of herself she let anyone see. But lately, that restraint had changed into something else. It wasn’t caution anymore. It was control.

And control, when it came to her, meant she had already made a decision.

I stood at the far end of the corridor overlooking the training grounds, far enough that no one would think I was watching her directly, but close enough that I didn’t miss anything that mattered. The sun hadn’t fully set yet, but the light was already fading, leaving the courtyard cast in long shadows.

She was in the center of it.

Mira stood across from her, hesitant in a way I had never seen before. That alone told me enough. Mira did not hesitate when it came to training. She adjusted, she corrected, she pushed but she never held back.

Not until now.

Liora moved first.

It wasn’t fast, not compared to a trained wolf, but it wasn’t weak either. She had learned quickly over the past weeks, faster than anyone without a wolf should have been able to. Her body still betrayed her in small ways, though. I could see it in the way she shifted her weight a fraction too late, in the slight delay between thought and action.

She was forcing herself past limits she shouldn’t have been testing.

Mira stepped in, countering her movement easily, catching her wrist and redirecting her momentum. It should have ended there, just another failed attempt, another correction.

But Liora didn’t stop.

She twisted out of the hold with more force than necessary, her movement sharper than before, less controlled. Mira reacted instantly, stepping back, but there was a moment, a brief, dangerous moment, where Liora didn’t pull back when she should have.

Something in the air shifted.

It wasn’t visible. Not something anyone else would have noticed. But I felt it, the same way I felt the change in her after the poison, after everything that followed.

Mira saw it too.

I could tell by the way she froze, just for a second, before recovering and forcing the distance between them.

"Enough," Mira said, her voice firmer now. "You’re pushing too far."

Liora didn’t argue immediately, but I could see it in her posture. The tension. The resistance.

She was not stopping because she agreed.

She was stopping because she had to.

I exhaled slowly, my jaw tightening as I turned away before either of them noticed me. Watching any longer wasn’t going to change anything. It wasn’t going to stop her.

Because the truth was, I already knew why she was doing it.

I had known for a while now.

---

I found her later in her room.

She had already cleaned up, changed into something lighter, but it didn’t hide the exhaustion. It was there in the way she moved, in the slight delay before she turned when I stepped inside, in the way her shoulders dropped just a fraction when she realized it was me.

"You’re getting better at hiding it," I said, closing the door behind me.

She didn’t ask what I meant.

"That’s not something I was trying to hide," she replied, her tone even as she turned to face me fully.

"No?" I walked further into the room, stopping just a few steps away from her. "Training in secret. Pushing your body past what it can handle. Making sure no one notices how far you’re actually going."

Her gaze didn’t shift from mine. "You noticed."

"I always do."

That wasn’t arrogance. It was fact.

A brief silence settled between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was measured. Controlled. The kind of silence where both people were deciding how much to say and how much to keep.

"You shouldn’t be training like that," I continued. "Not now."

Her expression didn’t change. "Because I’m pregnant?"

"Because you’re not stable," I corrected.

That was when something flickered in her eyes. Not anger. Not exactly. Something sharper. Something that didn’t disappear as quickly as it came.

"I don’t have the luxury of waiting to be stable," she said quietly.

I held her gaze. "And you don’t have the luxury of dying either."

The words landed between us heavier than anything else we had said so far.

Because we both knew what I meant.

And we both knew it wasn’t speculation.

"You already know," she said after a moment, her voice softer now, but no less steady.

It wasn’t a question.

I didn’t pretend otherwise. "You have two left."

She didn’t react outwardly, but I saw it. The slight shift in her breathing. The way her fingers curled slightly at her side before relaxing again.

"And you know what that means," I added.

"That if I use them..." she started, then stopped, correcting herself without breaking eye contact. "When I use them, I won’t survive it."

I stepped closer, closing the remaining distance between us. "Then stop acting like you can afford to make mistakes."

"And what do you expect me to do?" she asked, her voice rising just slightly, the first crack in her control. "Sit here and wait? Pretend none of this is happening? Hope that whatever they’re planning doesn’t reach me in time?"

"You don’t fight this by killing yourself faster," I said, sharper now.

"I’m not trying to kill myself," she replied.

"No," I said, my voice dropping again, quieter but heavier. "You’re preparing for something you don’t plan to survive."

That stopped her and for a moment, neither of us moved.

The air between us felt tighter, heavier, like something had shifted just enough that we couldn’t go back to pretending this was anything less than what it was.

"You already made your choice," I continued, watching her carefully. "You just haven’t said it yet."

Her gaze held mine, steady in a way that told me everything I needed to know.

"And you didn’t?" she asked.

I let out a quiet breath, my expression hardening slightly. "You know I did."

Her eyes didn’t leave mine. "You chose me."

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t grateful. It was factual.

"Yes."

"And you gave something up for that choice."

There it was.

The other truth we never said out loud.

My jaw tightened slightly. "You already know that too."

Her gaze dropped briefly, not in submission, but in thought, before lifting again. "The vial."

I didn’t respond immediately. We had both reached the point where silence meant confirmation.

Seraphina’s control over me wasn’t a secret between us anymore. It hadn’t been for a while. Liora was observant enough to notice the patterns long before I said anything, and I wasn’t careless enough to pretend she hadn’t.

"You’re still connected to it," she said quietly. "Even if you don’t use it."

"It doesn’t matter," I replied.

"It does," she countered. "Because whatever she’s using to control you, she’s not going to give it up just because you decided you don’t need it anymore."

"I’m not relying on it," I said, more firmly this time.

"That doesn’t mean she’s not," Liora said.

Another silence followed, but this one felt different. Heavier. More deliberate.

We both understood the position we were in.

She was running out of time.

And I was already compromised.

"You’re limiting your healing," I said finally, bringing the conversation back to what mattered most right now.

Her shoulders stilled slightly.

"That’s the only reason you’re still standing," I continued. "If you weren’t, you would have already used what you have left without thinking."

She didn’t deny it.

"Every time you get hurt, you’re holding it back," I said. "Fighting your own instincts."

"Yes."

The answer came without hesitation.

I studied her for a moment, then asked the only question that mattered.

"For how long?"

She didn’t respond immediately.

And that told me more than anything else she could have said.

"You don’t know," I said.

"I know enough," she replied.

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s the only one you’re getting."

I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair as I turned slightly away from her. Pushing her further right now wasn’t going to change anything. She had already decided how far she was willing to go.

The problem was, I knew exactly how far that was.

Too far.

"She’s going to force it," I said after a moment.

Liora didn’t ask who I meant.

"She’s not waiting for you to make that decision on your own," I continued. "If she needs you to use those last two, she’ll make sure you don’t have a choice."

"I know."

"And when that happens," I said, turning back to face her, "you won’t be able to hold back."

Her expression didn’t change. But her silence confirmed it.

We stood there for a moment, the weight of everything settling between us in a way that didn’t need to be explained.

She knew what was coming.

And so did I.

The difference was, she was preparing to face it and I was trying to find a way to stop it. But for the first time since this started, I wasn’t sure that was still possible.

I watched her for a moment longer, taking in the exhaustion she was trying to hide, the control she was forcing herself to maintain, the quiet resolve that hadn’t been there before.

Then I turned toward the door.

"Kael."

I stopped, but I didn’t turn around immediately.

"If it comes down to it," she said, her voice quieter now, but steady, "don’t hesitate."

I closed my eyes briefly before opening them again. When I finally looked back at her, there was nothing uncertain left in my expression.

"That’s not a decision you get to make for me."

Her gaze held mine, but she didn’t argue.

Because she already knew just like I did.

I left the room without saying anything else, the door closing behind me with a quiet finality that felt heavier than it should have.

As I walked down the corridor, the noise of the fortress settling back in around me, one thought stayed fixed in my mind, sharper than everything else.

She wasn’t just preparing for what was coming. She was preparing not to survive it.

And the worst part was—

she had already accepted that outcome.