POV: Elira

  The training grounds behind the east wing were usually quiet during afternoon hours — except, of course, when Cain was being dragged across them by Luna like a half-dead bde being reforged for war.

  I stood at the edge of the field, clutching a book I wasn’t reading.

  Cain’s form blurred in movement, dashing through wind-assisted strikes as Luna barked her usual short, sharp instructions.

  “Faster.”“Too wide.”“Again.”

  It was like watching a dance. A brutal one, yes — more like a storm trying to learn ballet — but a dance nonetheless.

  I didn't know why I kept coming to watch. Maybe because… I didn’t want to forget what effort looked like.

  Or maybe I just didn’t want to be alone again.

  Cain stumbled, catching himself before he fell, sweat dripping down his jaw. I winced at the fresh scrape on his shoulder — one of dozens. Small, but still raw.

  My fingers twitched. Instincts. Healing was the one thing I was sure of. When I saw wounds, I wanted to fix them. Not just the bleeding skin — the pain underneath.

  I stepped forward, unsure if I should say something — then froze as Luna’s gaze snapped toward me.

  Those blue eyes held centuries in them.

  I shrank.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, voice calm but cold. Not accusing — just expectant.

  I opened my mouth. Then closed it. My tongue tied itself in panic knots.

  “I—I… um… I thought—maybe, if he was hurt, I could—could help. Heal, I mean. Just the… small ones. If—if you don’t mind.”

  My voice got softer with every word, until I wasn’t sure Luna even heard it.

  She blinked slowly. “There is an infirmary.”

  My hands tightened on the book in my arms. “Yes. I know. It’s just… I thought maybe…”

  I looked at Cain. He was wiping his brow, eyes cast toward the ground. Exhausted. Bruised. And still smiling like the universe hadn’t tried to eat him alive.

  “…maybe he wouldn’t go,” I whispered.

  Luna tilted her head, her expression unreadable.

  Then she said, softly, “You’re afraid.”

  I flinched.

  “I see it in your eyes. You look at him like someone afraid of losing another pce.”

  I felt like the ground opened beneath me.

  The words wouldn’t come. Not in front of her. Not yet.

  But Cain — of course — cut through the tension like a bde of sarcasm dipped in humor.

  “Rex, Luna. She’s not pnning my assassination.”

  He grinned over his shoulder, half-drenched in sweat, half-glorious in defiance.

  “Besides, her being here helps you. You don’t have to stop training me when I colpse. Now she can patch me up and you can keep going. A win for everyone.”

  I looked at him — truly looked — and felt my lips curve. Just a little.

  Luna didn’t smile, but I saw the faintest glint in her eye.

  She nodded once.

  “Very well. She stays.”

  POV: Cain

  Later that evening, after Luna decided I hadn’t sufficiently bled for her honor, we stumbled back toward the dorms.

  Okay, I stumbled. Luna walked like gravity was a suggestion.

  Selene trailed behind us, quiet as always. Not that I noticed her half the time — she could’ve been a hallway decoration for all I knew.

  We got into the room. I dropped onto the bed like a corpse.

  Luna leaned against the window, arms folded, eyes flicking toward the stars.

  Then, with that voice she always used when pretending not to care, she asked:

  “You know why she’s watching you, don’t you?”

  “Elira?” I stretched, letting a groan escape. “Because she’s into emotionally unstable, battle-worn half-elves with trauma-based charm?”

  Luna raised an eyebrow.

  I shrugged. “What? It’s a niche.”

  “She’s afraid,” Luna said. “Of being left behind.”

  I rolled onto my back. “Yeah, well. Welcome to the club. The membership's huge and the benefits suck.”

  “She sees you,” Luna said, almost to herself. “The way you see the world.”

  I didn’t answer right away.

  “…That’s dangerous,” I said at st.

  Luna looked down at me. “Perhaps. But not wrong.”

  POV: Selene Aelwyn

  Selene sat in her own chamber, quill in hand, journal open under the faint glow of a spirit ntern.

  She had listened to everything. As always.

  She dipped the quill in ink and wrote:

  Observation Log – Subject Cain William

  Notable conversation with High Spirit Luna regarding elf girl (Elira).Subject appears aware of emotional connection forming.Elira dispys dependency symptoms. Cain responds with dismissive humor masking protective instinct.Luna acknowledges shared wounds. Potential emotional leverage.

  Training continues. Physical strain increasing.Emotional bonds developing. Monitor closely.

  Potential trigger event imminent.

  She paused.

  Then, under her breath, she added:

  He keeps smiling even when it hurts. I don’t know how he does that.

  She stared at the page for a moment…Then closed the journal.