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Kael Draven became a constant shadow, a figure of unnerving stillness who was always present but never truly there.
Victoria woke the next morning to find him already at his post outside her door. Through the small, reinforced window panel, she could see him standing in the corridor, as motionless as a sentinel carved for a forgotten tomb. His attention was focused on some distant point she could not see. He did not shift his weight, did not check a device, did not display any of the small fidgets that marked a person as human and bored. He simply stood, a study in purpose and control.
When the silent nurse brought breakfast, Kael moved just enough to permit her passage, his eyes tracking the nurse’s every movement. The nurse, in turn, never once looked at him. Victoria wondered if everyone at the Institute had learned to treat him like a piece of high-tech security hardware, something functional and best ignored.
"Good morning," Victoria called through the open doorway, determined to provoke some kind of reaction from him.
Kael’s gaze shifted to her, his eyes assessing her coolly. "Ms. Alston."
"I thought we had agreed on Victoria."
"Did we?" His attention returned to the empty corridor.
The door sealed shut, leaving her with her calculated breakfast and a mountain of frustration. She ate mechanically, her focus split between the tasteless food and the silhouette visible through the window. He never moved, never relaxed his posture, and after twenty minutes of watching him, she began to feel like the specimen under his microscope.
This pattern continued throughout the day. Aster arrived for his evaluations, conducting tests that ranged from blood draws and brain scans to having her hum specific notes while machines measured their arcane frequencies. Kael was present for every single procedure, a silent observer in the corner, his presence a constant, low-grade pressure.
"Is he always here?" Victoria asked during one session, directing the question like a stone at the immovable security officer.
"Standard security protocol," Aster replied without looking up from his tablet. "He needs to monitor all interactions."
"I am not in danger from a blood pressure cuff."
"You would be surprised what can pose a threat to someone like you." Aster offered a smile that held no warmth. "We are simply being cautious."
Someone like you. The phrase stuck in her mind long after Aster departed. What did it mean? Famous? Half-fae? Someone who hallucinated fire and blood and felt an impossible connection to their new security guard?
She tried to engage Kael again that evening, her voice sharp with irritation. "Do you ever actually speak, or is silent intimidation your entire personality?"
"I speak when there is something worth saying." He did not look at her.
"So I am not worth talking to?"
"I did not say that."
"You did not have to say anything." Victoria crossed her arms, studying his profile through the glass. "How long have you been doing this job? The bodyguard thing?"
"Long enough to recognize when someone is attempting to create a distraction."
"A distraction from what? The incredibly dangerous hospital corridor?"
That earned her a sharp glance. "You would be surprised what is dangerous."
"Everything in this place feels dangerous," she admitted, her frustration cracking to reveal the genuine fear beneath. "These tests, this room, the way everyone looks at me like a puzzle to be solved instead of a person to be helped. And you, just standing there as if you are waiting for me to turn into a monster."
For the first time, Kael’s expression shifted. Something dark and complicated moved across his features. "I am not waiting for you to turn into anything."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
He held her gaze for a long moment before answering, his voice a low murmur that barely reached her through the glass. "For you to remember what you already are."
The words struck her like a physical blow. Victoria's breath hitched, and the room suddenly felt too small, the filtered air too thin. "What is that supposed to mean?"
But Kael had already turned away, his attention fixed once more on the corridor. The conversation was over. Victoria wanted to pound on the glass and demand he explain himself, but the rigid line of his shoulders warned her that pushing would only make him retreat further into his fortress of silence.
That night, she dreamed of him. Not the Kael in black tactical clothes standing guard, but a different version, an older one. He was dressed in worn leather and dark metal, standing on a battlefield with blood on his hands and a universe of grief in his eyes. He was looking at her, or at someone who wore her face, and speaking words she could not quite hear over the roar of flames. She woke with the distinct feeling of tears on her face and the unshakable certainty that whatever existed between her and Kael Draven was not new. It was ancient, buried deep, and it was beginning to wake up, whether either of them wanted it to or not.