Kavi’s footsteps echo along the steel spiral, each clang a pulse in her chest. She tugs at the end of her oversized blue sweater—a shield that doesn’t quite hide the tension bunching her shoulders. Below, laughter filters up the stairs, Selis’s voice bright with hope, Vael’s lower and edged with something sharper. Kavi’s lips purse; she hates how she’s drawn to their orbit, even from a distance.

Mid-morning light streams in, sharpening the tangled shadows on the walls. When Vael appears in the lantern room, he’s all sharp lines and calculated ease: dark hair swept back, sleeves rolled high enough to show the kind of forearms people write poems about. Even leaning against the glass, he radiates the casual arrogance of someone sure he’ll be wanted.

She shoves past him, grabbing the logbook, her movements clipped, eyes narrowed. “You missed the lamp maintenance again,” she mutters, voice steely.

Vael’s smile twitches—dangerous, slow. “Missed, or left it for you?” His gaze lingers, hungry, following the fall of her hair as she turns away. There’s heat in it—he’s not bothering to hide it, and it makes her tremble, though she hates herself for it.

She exhales sharply. “Don’t do this,” she says, but it comes out thin, almost pleading.

He’s in front of her before she’s regained her balance, hand braced on the window behind her head, boxing her in. Up close, Vael’s voice is silk wrapped around steel. “You want me to stop?” His breath ghosts over her lips, daring her to flinch.

Kavi’s chin lifts defiantly, but her voice betrays a tremor. “You only want me when no one else is looking.” Bitterness cuts deeper than she intends.

His hand slides to her waist. “Nobody’s looking,” he whispers, and in that hush, the world contracts to heat and skin and desperate need. She hates that her body arches into his, but when his mouth claims hers—rough, urgent—it’s like falling and flying at once. Her fingers knot in his shirt, tugging him closer.

Their collision is reckless, a storm behind glass. He lifts her onto the metal stair platform in one breathless motion, hands greedy on her thighs, her sweater bunched high. Kavi gasps, the edge between pleasure and shame razor-sharp; she claws at his back, wanting both to hurt and to hold. His teeth scrape her neck, her pulse hammering wild. The lantern’s gold light flickers over skin and sweat and tangled hair.

Below, in the shadowed stairwell, Selis’s hand freezes on the railing. Her eyes are wide, jaw rigid—she doesn’t cry out, doesn’t reveal herself, but her heart cracks open, raw and silent. All she can do is listen as the breathless moans and bitten-off laughter twist into something unendurable.

After, Kavi drags her sweater down, cheeks blazing, eyes glassy with a mix of triumph and self-loathing. Vael’s thumb traces her cheekbone; the gesture is almost gentle, but there’s nothing safe in the way he looks at her. “Always hiding in plain sight,” he murmurs, lips brushing her ear before he disappears down the stairs.

Kavi is left alone, heart pounding, hands trembling, the ghost of his touch still burning through her. Shame stings her throat; she hugs herself tight, shoulders hunched, unsure whether she’s won anything at all.

In the maintenance corridor, Drevik’s heavy footsteps thunder in—he wipes sea grit from his callused hands, his work shirt half-unbuttoned, hair still damp from the mist. He finds Kavi by the supply shelves, eyes red-rimmed, her usual fire gone. He offers her a crooked smile, voice rough but kind. “You okay?” She shrugs, tossing a threadbare joke at him—her armor back up, but barely.

He leans close, fixing a broken lamp with steady hands, his silent strength pulling her in. Kavi forces herself to flirt, voice low, eyes dancing around his. Anything to distract from the ache in her chest. Drevik’s dark eyes linger on her a moment longer than they should, but he doesn’t push.

Night falls heavy, and Selis stands outside Kavi’s door, fist clenched, breath shallow. Tortured by what she’s seen, she hovers there, unable to choose between confrontation and retreat, hate and heartbreak. The sun rises without resolution.

To be continued...