Kaiden leans against the frosted window of Heartline’s main lounge, his arms crossed tight over his chest. His brown hair is still mussed from sleep, lips barely parted as he tries not to glance in Lirae’s direction. She’s perched on a stool at the edge of the bar, boots kicked up, fingers curled around a chipped mug. Her dark hair tumbles over a glacier-blue cable-knit sweater, every line of her posture daring someone to challenge her. She watches him from beneath long lashes—there’s a wry glint in her eyes that edges instantly into a smirk when she catches him looking.

He looks away first, jaw flexing.

Lirae hops down, crossing the room in confident, purposeful strides. She stops inches from Kaiden, close enough for him to smell her sharp citrus shampoo. “Morning, Director,” she teases, voice low and rough around the edges. Her fingers trail along the clipboard in his hand, lingering just a second too long on his wrist.

“Still keeping score, Synn?” Kaiden’s reply is half-muttered, his grip tightening on the clipboard to hide the tremor in his fingers. He tries for lightness, but the heat in his gaze betrays him.

She leans in, lips near his ear. “You wish.” Then she steps back, all flashing eyes and challenge, and tosses over her shoulder, “Bonfire prep’s at seven. Try to keep up.” She’s gone before he can answer, leaving him with flushed cheeks and a racing pulse.

Later, Kaiden finds her piling wood outside beneath the harsh glow of floodlights. Lirae is all raw energy—fitted thermal leggings, cheeks flushed red, hair tucked messily into a beanie. The way she moves, fast and almost reckless, makes her seem untouchable. Kaiden tries to cover his nerves with a smirk. “Hope you’re not planning on torching the place.”

She doesn’t reply. Instead, she tosses a chunk of wood at his feet, eyes gleaming. “Bet you can’t keep up with me past midnight.” There’s a dare in her posture—chin high, arms crossed, the curve of a smirk on her lips.

Something in him aches to say no, to walk away, but instead he meets her gaze head-on. “I’ll race you,” he murmurs. “But you’ll have to catch me first.”

The night swallows the world in blue shadow and biting wind. Lirae is a dark blur darting between trees, Kaiden chasing her laughter through snowdrifts, their breath forming silver ghosts in the air. His heart pounds with something wild and new—fear, hope, longing, all tangled tight. When he finally catches her by the lake’s edge, she whirls, breathless, cheeks flushed and eyes bright with mischief.

He’s barely caught his breath before she pins him against a frost-laced birch. Her palms settle on his chest, the thud of his heart beneath her hands. She’s so close he feels her exhale on his lips. “You lose,” she whispers, a smile curving her mouth, and suddenly she’s kissing him—hungry, fierce, tasting of winter and salt and something tender.

His hands tangle in her hair, desperate to keep her close, but she pulls away first, lips brushing his jaw. Her hand trails down his spine, bold, lingering, and then she draws back, watching him with a gaze that is both taunting and vulnerable. “Don’t look so surprised,” she murmurs, fingers trailing down his arm as she turns away, her laughter echoing soft through the trees.

Elsewhere, Zira sits cross-legged on her cot in the quiet medic cabin, her blonde hair unbound and shadowed eyes reflecting the screen of her phone. She holds it close, thumb hesitating over the record button. In the hush between heartbeats, she whispers into the recorder, her voice raw, almost breaking: “I can’t keep pretending it’s only Kaiden. I see her—Lirae—and I… God, I wish things were different. I wish I could tell the truth. It’s only a matter of time before everything cracks open.”

Across the lodge, Maelis finishes setting a last wine glass, hands steady but knuckles white. Her chef whites are pristine, her dark hair pulled into a disciplined braid. She lingers at the door as Kaiden and Zira pass by, watching how their bodies tilt almost imperceptibly together—how Zira’s laughter is a little too brittle, how Kaiden’s smile is a mask just barely holding. Maelis’s gaze trails after Zira, her own feelings locked tight behind a blank face.

Back outside, Kaiden stands alone, wind ruffling his hair, fingertips still tingling from Lirae’s touch. He watches her silhouette disappear into the snow and wonders how much more he can take—how long before everything between all of them erupts.

Inside the medic cabin, Zira stares at her phone, hunched forward, voice low and trembling on a second recording: “Everything’s changing. I’m scared of how much I want them both. And I’m even more scared of what I’ll do if I lose them.”

To be continued...