Then Imogen vanished into the side room, leaving the air thick with magic, tension, and whatever words still hadn’t been said.

  The silence between them stretched just long enough to turn heavy.

  “I-”

  “So-”

  They both stopped, blinking at each other.

  “You first,” Axel said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “No wait. Let me, uh- actually, no, you go.”

  Malachite crossed her arms, lips twitching like she couldn’t decide if she was annoyed or amused. “Gods, you’re awful at this.”

  “I'm trying!” he huffed, half-laughing. “Do you want me to get it wrong?”

  But the moment fractured as the crystal around her neck pulsed again brighter, reacting not just to her, but now visibly reaching toward Axel. A soft thrum filled the space between them, low and resonant, like a quiet hum that vibrated through the floor.

  Axel flinched, glancing at the glowing pendant. “Okay, what the hell is that?”

  Malachite looked down at the crystal the same one Imogen had wrapped for her. It pulsed once, and the warm shimmer rippled out like a heartbeat.

  “That’s… new,” she muttered.

  “I figured that wasn’t a normal necklace.” Axel tilted his head, frowning. “Is it supposed to… pulse when I’m near it?”

  Malachite looked him dead in the eyes. “No.”

  They both stared at it.

  The light flickered again almost curiously.

  Axel scratched his jaw. “Cool. So it likes me.”

  “It’s not supposed to like anyone.” Malachite groaned, cradling the pendant like it might misbehave further. “This thing is reacting to everything lately, my aura, Imogen’s, now you...”

  Axel raised a brow. “Are you sure it’s not reacting to your feelings?”

  She looked up sharply, caught off-guard.

  His voice softened just a little. “You… haven’t exactly been yourself since the training grounds.”

  Malachite opened her mouth, then stopped. Her jaw tightened, but the flicker of emotion in her eyes betrayed her silence.

  And the crystal pulsed again. Warm. Steady.

  Almost like it agreed with him.

  The crystal dimmed just a little, as if it sensed the moment between them softening.

  Malachite toyed with the edge of her cloak, avoiding his eyes. “That almost-kiss… the one your king stomped all over?”

  Axel huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah. I remember.”

  She glanced up, then quickly away again. “That would’ve been my first.”

  Axel looked surprised not because she hadn’t kissed anyone, but because she said it out loud.

  He took a breath. “Mine too.”

  Malachite blinked at him. Then snorted. “Really? You expect me to believe a guy like you, tall, charming, professional brood-and-smolder, never kissed anyone?”

  He gave a tired little smile. “Why does it make sense that you haven’t, but not me?”

  She shrugged, flustered. “Because I’m loud. I don’t flirt. I throw hammers and scare off half the guard. I’m not exactly what people line up for.”

  Axel stepped closer, his voice low and honest. “You’re beautiful.”

  Malachite’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide.

  “No one’s ever said that to me,” she whispered.

  “Well,” he said, softer still, “they’re all blind.”

  She swallowed hard, fingers brushing over the crystal resting against her chest.

  “I’ve always wanted to wait,” Axel said suddenly, more to the air between them than to her. “I didn’t come from the best family. I saw what it looked like to love wrong. Saw how easy it was to hurt the people closest to you. And I told myself… when I found the person who made it all make sense, my mate, I’d give them everything.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He looked at her then, eyes shining with something fragile and real.

  “I don’t wanna take anything from my future. I wanna protect it. Not repeat the past.”

  Malachite’s breath caught in her throat.

  She looked away, cheeks flushed, heart loud in her ears.

  Axel didn’t press. He just stood there, close but not too close, like he’d wait forever if she asked.

  Malachite stood there, shoulders slightly hunched like she wasn’t used to being seen so clearly. The weight of everything, her name, her legacy, the forge in her blood, suddenly felt lighter. Not because it was gone, but because someone was willing to carry some of it with her.

  She let out a shaky breath. “You make things really hard, y’know that?”

  Axel blinked. “What did I do this time?”

  She smiled, small but real. “You say stuff like that, about waiting, and protecting, and... seeing me. And now I don’t know whether I want to punch you or kiss you.”

  Axel’s mouth twitched like he wanted to tease her, but he didn’t. Instead, he just murmured, “You can do both. I’ll survive.”

  She looked up at him, their eyes locking. This time, she didn’t flinch away.

  “I don’t know what I am to you,” she whispered. “I don’t even know what I am to me half the time. But when you’re around… it doesn’t feel like I have to have all the answers.”

  Axel’s voice was quiet but firm. “You don’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The silence that followed was full. Brimming with things neither of them had the words for yet. A promise without a contract. A thread beginning to tighten.

  Malachite reached up slowly, resting her hand over his heart not pulling him in, just… grounding herself.

  Axel placed his palm over hers, larger, steady.

  And for a long moment, they simply stood there in the stillness not kissing, not fighting, not trying to fix or flee or force anything.

  Just there.

  Together.

  A knock broke the quiet.

  Malachite and Axel both jumped slightly, stepping back just as the door creaked open.

  Darius leaned in, face apologetic, eyes scanning the room. “Imogen? I think I took the whole mean king thing too far. I’m pretty sure they were making up and I…” He groaned. “Gods, I ruined it again. I told you I wasn’t cut out for this!”

  From behind a tall shelf lined with dried roots and bundled herbs, a familiar laugh rang out.

  Imogen peeked around the corner, clutching her sides. “You had one job!”

  Darius looked wounded. “You said to yell! I yelled! I sounded terrifying!”

  “You scared the romance out of the room.”

  Axel muttered, “Not the only thing he scared off.”

  Darius threw up his hands. “Fine. Great. Ruined another tender moment. Are you happy?”

  “No,” Axel deadpanned.

  “Perfect,” Darius sighed, already turning toward the hallway. “Well, if we’re both gonna be miserable, we might as well be miserable in the war council meeting. Let’s go.”

  He grabbed Axel by the arm and started dragging him out.

  Axel looked over his shoulder helplessly at Malachite, who just blinked at him like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or throw something.

  “I hate this kingdom,” Axel muttered.

  “Love you too, Commander,” Darius replied dryly as they disappeared down the corridor.

  The hallway fell quiet after the men disappeared, the echo of Darius’s boots fading down the corridor.

  Imogen stood for a second, then turned back to Malachite with a slow grin. “Sooo…”

  Malachite rolled her eyes and slumped back down onto the workbench, fingers fumbling with the jar of crushed marigold like it had personally offended her. “Don’t start.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Imogen said, settling beside her again, barely containing her smile. “But if I did…”

  “You are.” Malachite muttered, then groaned into her hands. “Gods. It would’ve been my first kiss.”

  Imogen blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, really?”

  Malachite nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ve never… had someone look at me like that before. Not like he does.”

  She leaned forward, arms resting on her knees. “And I wanted to kiss him. I’ve never wanted something so stupid so bad. And then boom, Darius. Godsdamned walking interruption.”

  Imogen tried not to laugh but failed. “You could’ve said something. You still can.”

  Malachite flushed and shook her head. “He probably thinks I don’t care. I- Imogen, I was waiting by the door after we got back. Like some lovesick idiot. And when it was you knocking and not him? I actually felt disappointed. That’s pathetic.”

  “It’s not,” Imogen said fiercely. “It’s honest, and rare. And sweet. And if he knew… oh, Mal, he’d probably fly back here on foot.”

  Malachite fiddled with her crystal again, eyes distant. “Do you think he really meant it? That he wanted it too?”

  “I know he did,” Imogen said. “You didn’t see his face when Darius ruined it. That man looked like the gods themselves had smacked him.”

  Malachite was quiet for a moment. Then softly, “I’ve just… never had someone want me before. Not the real me. Not the Drake. Not the girl under the armor.”

  “You’ve always been worthy of love,” Imogen whispered, brushing her shoulder. “You just haven’t met the one who knew how to give it yet.”

  Malachite looked at her. “You think Axel could be that one?”

  “I think he already is.”

  They sat in silence for a long beat, letting the herbs bubble and the words settle.