The Fire In Our Hearts

Chapter Five – The Fire in Our Hearts

(Fred’s POV)

My hands were shaking.

I could still feel the weight of the knife in my palm, the way it had cut through flesh, the awful, sickening warmth of blood on my fingers.

I had killed him.

Even though Drake’s large, warm hand still covered my eyes, blocking me from seeing the truth, I knew it was there. The body. The blood. The silence.

A sob tore from my throat. My knees felt weak, my whole body trembling. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t strong enough for this.

“I... I killed him,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own ragged breathing.

Drake didn’t let go of me. He held me firm, steady, as if afraid I would fall apart if he loosened his grip. His warmth surrounded me, shielding me from the cold reality of what I had done.

His voice was low, soothing. “Fred.”

I shook my head violently, tears slipping down my cheeks. “No. No, no, no... I— I didn’t mean to—” My chest ached, my breath coming in sharp gasps. “I just wanted to stop him. I didn’t want to—”

“Fred,” Drake said again, firmer this time. “Breathe.”

But I couldn’t. My heart pounded too fast, my whole body shaking with the weight of it all. The guilt. The fear. The overwhelming realization that I had taken a life.

Then, slowly, his hand moved from my eyes.

I blinked rapidly as the dim light of the cavern returned, my vision blurred by tears. I refused to look at the ground. I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to see what I had done.

Instead, my eyes locked onto Drake’s golden gaze.

He was watching me, his expression unreadable, but there was something softer in his eyes—something I had never seen before.

“You saved me,” he said, voice steady.

I let out a shaky breath, my lips trembling. “I killed someone.” “If you hadn’t…..me.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t make it right.”

Drake sighed and reached for me, his hands gripping my shoulders. His touch was firm but gentle, grounding me. “Listen to me, Fred. I know this isn’t easy for you. I know you’re not like me.”

His voice dropped lower, softer. “But you did what you had to do. You protected me.”

Tears burned in my eyes again. “That doesn’t mean I’m okay.”

His gaze flickered with something deep, something almost painful. “I know.”

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. My body still shook, but the warmth of his hands, the steady rise and fall of his breath, kept me from falling apart completely.

Drake exhaled heavily, then took a step back. “Come on. We can’t stay here.”

I hesitated. My legs felt weak, my chest still heavy with emotion, but I knew he was right. Drake turned and started walking, his large wings folding against his back.

I forced my feet to move, following him deeper into the cave.

The lair was warmer than I expected. The stone walls glowed faintly with embers, casting flickering shadows across the cavern. A fire burned in the corner, its heat spreading through the space.

Drake walked ahead of me, silent, his movements tense.

I barely had time to take in the surroundings before a sharp pain shot through my arm. I winced, looking down.

Blood.

I hadn’t even noticed the wound before, but now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the pain was becoming clearer. A deep cut ran across my forearm, a slow trickle of blood staining my sleeve.

Drake turned at the sound of my sharp intake of breath, his golden eyes narrowing. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing,” I muttered, trying to brush it off.

His gaze darkened. “It’s not nothing.”

I sighed, then lifted my head to look at him. That’s when I noticed— His own wound.

A deep gash ran along his side, the fabric of his clothing torn, blood seeping from the cut. He must have gotten it during the fight, but he hadn’t said anything.

I frowned. “You’re hurt too.”

Drake scoffed. “I’ve had worse.”

“That doesn’t mean you should ignore it.”

He rolled his eyes, turning away. “It’ll heal.”

I crossed my arms. “Sit down.”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “What?”

I pointed to the stone ledge near the fire. “Sit. I need to treat it.” Drake let out an exasperated breath. “That’s unnecessary.”

"I don't care." I walked over to him, hands on hips. "Let me do this."

He stood there for a moment, something changing in his face. Then, exhaling slowly, he sat down on the ledge.

I knelt beside him, pushing his shirt aside to examine the wound. The cut wasn't deep, but it still oozed, dark crimson against the golden skin of his belly.

I bit my lip, focused. I tore a strip of material from the hem of my dress, soaked it in water from a canteen beside me, and pressed it against his side.

Drake stiffened immediately, his muscles clenching like a spring. "Relax," I breathed.

He let out a harsh breath but didn't move.

I eased up, tenderly wiping at the blood, doing my best to clean the wound. The air between us grew thicker, quieter. I was aware of the heat of his skin intensely, the radiance of his body like the flame itself.

His breathing was smooth, yet I could sense the tension within him.

"Why are you doing this?" he said softly.

I stared up at him, surprised by the softness in his voice. "Because I care."

Drake stopped in his tracks.

He didn't move for an instant. His golden eyes locked onto mine, unreadable, searching. Something changed in the air between us.

His hand came up, almost hesitantly, and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. The touch was gentle—so uncharacteristic of him.

My heart pounded.

"Fred..." His voice was barely above a whisper. I did not think. I did not take the time to question. I simply leaned forward.

And his lips kissed me.

It was a slow, hesitant kiss, as though both of us feared to ruin whatever fragile instant this was. Then his hand cupped the nape of my neck and held me to him, and hesitance disintegrated. His mouth warm, firm, his breath mingling with mine. My hands on his chest, the even beat of his heart against my palms.

The fire cracked on the edge of us, but I barely noticed.

All I could feel was him. Drake.

The man who should have been my enemy. The man I'd feared and fought. The man who'd saved me more times than I'd lost count.

And now...

Now, I didn't even know what he was to me anymore. When we finally parted, his golden eyes flared into mine. Neither one of us spoke.

But we didn't need to.

Because at that moment, we both knew. This had changed everything.