Chapter 45: The Storm’s Wake

***\--Alina’s POV—***

I woke to silence.

Not the soft, peaceful kind—the kind that comes after devastation. The kind where the world is holding its breath, suspended in time.

I sat up, my body aching, my wrists still raw where the silver had burned me. The scent of herbs and damp earth filled the air—comforting, familiar. Someone had tended to my wounds while I slept.

Dax.

My pulse quickened as I swung my legs off the cot, but he wasn’t there.

The last thing I remembered was his arms around me, his voice murmuring something I couldn’t quite hold onto. But now, the space beside me was cold.

Something was wrong.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the stiffness in my limbs, and stepped outside.

The camp was unnervingly quiet. Warriors moved with hushed steps, their eyes flickering toward me before quickly looking away.

I scanned the area, searching for a familiar face.

Then I saw him—Pierce.

His armor was streaked with blood, not his own. His posture was rigid, his expression grim.

A knot of dread twisted in my stomach.

"Where is he?" My voice barely rose above a whisper.

Pierce hesitated.

That hesitation was all I needed.

"Where, Pierce?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "The ruins…"

I didn’t wait for more. I ran, my breath coming sharp and fast. The ruins were miles away—Dax and the warriors had left hours ago, and I had been asleep while he...

I pushed the thought aside and kept running. The stench of blood hit me before I saw the battlefield. Thick in the air, coating my tongue with every breath. Death was everywhere.

I slowed as I reached the ridge, my heart pounding in my chest. The ground was slick with crimson, bodies scattered across the ruins like broken dolls.

This wasn’t just war. It was a massacre. And Dax was at the heart of it.

He stood with his back to me, sword still dripping with blood, his breathing ragged. The warriors around him shifted uncomfortably, but no one spoke.

None of them dared.

They had seen it.

The moment Dax stopped being just a leader and became something else. Something feral. Something unstoppable.

And at his feet, barely clinging to life, was Kael.

I exhaled shakily, my legs heavy as I forced them to move. My boots sank into the blood-soaked earth, but Dax didn’t turn.

He was too far gone to hear me.

I stepped closer, my voice soft but firm. "Dax."

Nothing.

He didn’t even glance at me. He just stared at Kael, his knuckles white around the sword’s hilt.

My stomach churned.

He was going to finish it.

I stepped between them.

The moment my body blocked his view of Kael, Dax finally looked at me.

And gods, I almost wished he hadn’t.

His eyes were wild. Unfocused. Drenched in blood and vengeance.

"Dax," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. "Hey..."

His chest rose and fell, shallow and uneven. His fingers flexed, his body tensing—poised to strike, to kill.

I reached out slowly, brushing my fingers over his bloodstained knuckles. "It’s over."

A shuddering breath escaped him.

For a long moment, I didn’t know if he would stop. If he could.

Then, slowly—too slowly—his grip on the sword loosened.

The battlefield still reeked of death. Even as the bodies were dragged away, the remnants of war were cleaned from the ruins, the scent lingered. It soaked into the earth, into my skin, into the heavy silence that hung in the air.

I walked to the edge of the ruins, watching the warriors work. Some moved with purpose, tending to the wounded, collecting the dead. Others avoided my gaze, their movements stiff, uneasy.

Dax had always been a warrior, a leader, a force of nature. But this—this wasn’t just about war.

This was rage, raw and unchecked. A darkness that had consumed him, leaving destruction in its wake.

A shiver crawled down my spine.

Behind me, Dax stood over Kael’s battered form, sword still gripped tightly in his hands. The blade’s tip rested against the ground, but his fingers wouldn’t release it.

Kael wasn’t dead.

Not yet.

He was breathing—shallow, labored—but alive.

Gideon wasn’t so lucky. Dax had made sure of that.

My throat tightened as I turned back to him. "Dax."

His gaze never left Kael’s broken body, his posture still coiled, like a predator unsure whether to finish the kill.

I stepped closer, cautiously. "Dax," I said again, softer this time.

Slowly, his head turned.

His eyes found mine, and for the briefest moment, I saw him—the man I loved, not the warrior. The one who had held me, whispered my name like a promise.

Then the moment passed.

His face hardened. "You shouldn’t be here."

I swallowed. "Neither should you."

A muscle in his jaw twitched.

The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating.

Then Pierce stepped forward. "Dax."

Dax’s fingers twitched on his sword, but he didn’t look at him. "What?"

"The men are waiting for orders," Pierce said carefully.

Dax didn’t answer at first.

Then, without another word, he lifted his sword and turned away.

Not toward me.

Not toward the warriors.

Toward Kael.

Panic surged through me, and before I could think, I was in front of him. "No."

Dax froze.

I placed a hand on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart beneath my palm. "It’s over."

His breath was ragged. "He took you."

"I know."

"He would have let you die."

"I know."

"He doesn’t deserve to live."

"I know."

My fingers clenched around his bloodstained armor. "But if you kill him, what does that make you?"

His breath hitched.

For what felt like an eternity, he didn’t move.

Then, slowly, his grip on his sword loosened.

A ragged exhale escaped him as his forehead came to rest against mine, his breath warm against my skin. "You’re the only thing keeping me from burning this world to the ground, Alina."

I closed my eyes. "Then let me."

The tension bled from his body as if my words were the last tether holding him together.

He stepped back.

Kael remained unconscious, battered, but breathing.

Dax didn’t say another word as he turned toward the warriors.

"Chain him," he ordered, his voice rough. "Take him back. Use Silver."

No one hesitated.

Pierce signaled to the others, and within moments, Kael was dragged away.

Dax exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. For the first time in what felt like forever, the storm inside him began to subside.