Lahat ng Kabanata ng Claimed by the Fallen Five: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

The air between them pulsed with heat and silence. Stillness wrapped around them like a cocoon, holding them in that fragile, tender place where the kiss had just been, where everything had just changed. Mae’s breath shuddered softly. Her heart raced, not from fear, but from the raw weight of what just happened, and what didn’t. Ashar was still close. So close. His hand lingered at her neck, thumb tracing the edge of her jaw like he was memorizing the moment. And then, he whispered. “I’m sorry.” The words broke the silence like ripples in water, gentle, but deep. Mae blinked, confused. "For what?” His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. “That.” A pause. “I’ve wanted to do that since the auction. I want to do more, but we can't. ” Her breath caught in her throat. Her lips still tingled where his sking touched. “When you looked at me.” His fingers flexed slightly. “It felt like I heard you, not out loud. But in my mind. You said ‘come here.’ Like you wanted me beside you.”

Ashar moved like the air bent for him. Mae clung to his shoulders, not out of fear. Not exactly but because the vibrations of the castle were inside her now. The walls no longer echoed around her, they responded to her. Her skin hummed like a current was running beneath it. Every pulse of energy in the stone, every flare of ancient script, they were speaking. Not in words, but recognition. It knows me. Ashar’s jaw was locked, the tension in his arms telling her more than words ever could. Not fear. Purpose. He wasn’t running from the reaction. He was running toward something. But even Mae could tell, he didn’t know what. They turned a sharp corner through the main corridor of the eastern wing, a hallway long abandoned, its walls dust-covered and cold, until suddenly. The floor shifted. Mae gasped as Ashar came to an abrupt stop. Beneath them, smooth stone cracked along invisible seams. Lines of light shot from the floor, arcing up the walls like living veins. The wall in front of the

She didn’t turn around, but she spoke. “You followed me.” A beat of silence. “I always would,” he said simply. Mae looked up at the sky, blinking back the feeling in her throat. “It’s beautiful. What we made.” Ashar moved beside her, not close enough to touch. Just near. “You made it,” he said quietly. “I just brought the spark.” She looked down at her hands, still glistening faintly with traces of energy. “I didn’t ask for this.” He nodded. “Neither did I.” Another silence stretched between them. Not heavy. Just, truthful. Then, softly, “do you hate me for it?” she asked. Ashar’s voice was low, but sure. “No. I’ve feared this moment my entire life, and somehow, it feels like peace.” Mae turned to him then. He wasn’t looking at her. He was watching the sky. But his hand rested between them, on the grass. Close. Not touching. But close. Mae stared at his hand. Not touching her. Just there. Close enough to feel the warmth between them, like gravity that hadn’t decided yet whether to pu

They returned to the castle just before twilight. No one said much. Ashar had led the way back, quiet, and unreadable, his pace purposeful. Riven trailed behind with Mae, eyes flicking back every few seconds like he wasn’t sure whether to keep joking or run. When they stepped into the main hall, the others looked up from various seats and corners. The tension that had settled while they were gone tightened the moment the trio crossed the threshold. Lucien stood. “Find anything?” Ashar didn’t look at anyone as he said, flatly, “No.” Mae blinked, surprised, but said nothing. Sethis narrowed his eyes. “Nothing at all?” Ashar didn’t answer. Riven shrugged, sliding into a seat. “Whole lot of pretty trees and broken rocks. Not a damn thing worth noting.” Mae hesitated. She felt it, too, that decision. That choice hides the truth. Ashar had made it for now. She didn’t like it, but she understood it. Ashar finally turned to the group. “We’re running low. We’ll need a supply run tomorrow.” L

Mae’s smile lit something in Riven, something deep and rare. And the fact that she didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, that she smiled at him after their first kiss? That was everything. He didn’t wait this time. Riven leaned in again, this time slower, deeper, his hands gently cupping her face as he kissed her like he’d been holding that need back for years instead of days. The kind of kiss that wasn’t rushed, but meant. Mae didn’t hesitate. Her breath hitched softly as she leaned into him, her hands rising to grip his arms, pulling him closer. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the sleeves of his shirt, the strength in the way he held her, but not tightly, not possessively. Safely. Intimately. Like she mattered. There was something different in this second kiss. Something deeper than heat. Something ancient. Like a thread had been pulled taut between them, and was now twining. Mae felt it in her chest, a soft pulling sensation, not painful, but not mild, either. A connectio