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Kael Draven became a constant shadow, always present but never truly there.

Victoria woke the next morning to find him already stationed outside her door. Through the small window panel, she could see him standing in the corridor, perfectly still, his attention focused on something she could not see. He did not shift his weight, did not check his phone, did not display any of the small fidgets that marked someone as human and bored. He simply stood, a statue carved from stone and purpose.

When the silent nurse brought breakfast, Kael moved just enough to let her pass, his eyes tracking every movement with predatory focus. The nurse never looked at him, and Victoria wondered if everyone at the Institute had learned to treat him like furniture, something functional and best ignored.

"Good morning," Victoria called through the open door, determined to get some kind of reaction.

Kael's gaze shifted to her, grey eyes assessing in a way that made her feel simultaneously seen and analyzed. "Ms. Alston."

"I thought we agreed on Victoria."

"Did we?" He turned back to his vigil, dismissing her as easily as one might dismiss background noise.

The door sealed shut, leaving her with her calculated breakfast and mounting frustration. Victoria ate mechanically, her attention split between the food and the figure visible through the window. He never moved, never relaxed, and after twenty minutes of watching him, she started to feel like the observed rather than the observer.

The pattern continued through the day.

Aster came for evaluations, running tests that involved everything from blood draws to brain scans to having her hum specific notes while machines measured the frequencies. Kael was present for every procedure, standing in the corner like a particularly well-dressed piece of equipment, silent and watchful.

"Is he always here?" Victoria asked during one session, trying to unsettle the immovable security officer.

"Security protocols," Aster replied, not looking up from his tablet. "He needs to monitor all interactions."

"I am not in danger from a blood test."

"You would be surprised what can pose a threat to someone like you." Aster smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, the expression cold and clinical. "We are being cautious."

Someone like you.

The phrase stuck with Victoria long after Aster left. What did that mean? Someone famous? Someone with fae heritage? Someone who hallucinated fire and blood and felt an impossible connection to their security guard?

She tried engaging Kael again that evening. "Do you ever actually talk, or is silent intimidation your whole personality?"

"I talk when there is something worth saying." He did not look at her, his attention fixed on the corridor beyond.

"So I am not worth talking to?"

"I did not say that."

"You did not say anything." Victoria crossed her arms, studying his profile through the window, looking for any crack in that perfect control. "How long have you been doing this? The whole bodyguard thing?"

"Long enough to know when someone is trying to distract me."

"From what? The incredibly dangerous hospital corridor?"

That earned her a glance, brief but sharp, like a blade catching light. "You would be surprised what is dangerous."

"Everything here feels dangerous," she admitted, her frustration cracking into honesty she had not intended to share. "This place, these tests, the way everyone looks at me like I am something to be figured out rather than someone to be helped. And you, standing there like you are waiting for me to turn into a monster."

Kael's expression finally shifted, something dark and complicated crossing his features like storm clouds moving across clear sky. "I am not waiting for you to turn into anything."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"For you to remember what you already are."

The words hit like a punch to the chest. Victoria's breath caught, and the room suddenly felt too small, the air too thin. "What is that supposed to mean?"

But Kael had already turned away, his attention fixed on the corridor again, every line of his body radiating that this particular subject was closed. Victoria wanted to demand answers, to force him to explain, but something in his rigid posture warned her that pushing would only make him retreat further into that professional shell.

The next two days followed the same pattern.

Kael was always there, a silent presence that somehow managed to be both comforting and unnerving. Victoria found herself hyperaware of him, tracking his movements, watching for any crack in his perfect control.

She noticed things. The way his hand would occasionally drift toward his side, as if reaching for a weapon that was not there. How his gaze would sharpen whenever Aster entered the room, tracking the scientist with an intensity that bordered on hostility. The way he never, ever turned his back on her completely.

"You do not like him," Victoria said one afternoon when Aster had just left after another round of tests. "Aster. You do not like him."

Kael was silent for a long moment. Then, quietly, "It is not my job to like anyone."

"But you do not trust him."

"I do not trust anyone." He finally looked at her, and the weight of his gaze was physical, pressing against her like a hand on her chest. "Especially not with you."

The possessiveness in that statement should have frightened her. Instead, it sent warmth curling through her chest, a feeling she had no right to experience toward a man she barely knew.

"Why do you care?" The question came out softer than she intended, vulnerability bleeding through despite her best efforts. "I am just an assignment, right? Another celebrity who needs a babysitter."

Kael's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. For a moment, she thought he might actually answer, might let slip whatever he was holding back. But then his expression went blank again, professional distance slamming back into place like a door closing.

"Get some rest," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Tomorrow's evaluation schedule is extensive."

He moved away from the window, and Victoria was left staring at the empty corridor, feeling the ache of a connection she did not understand being deliberately severed.

That night, she dreamed of him.

Not the version in black clothes standing guard, but something older. A man in different clothes, leather and metal instead of tactical wear, standing on a battlefield with blood on his hands and grief in his eyes. He was looking at her, or at someone who wore her face, and saying words she could not quite hear through the veil of sleep

Victoria woke with tears on her face and the certainty that whatever was between her and Kael Draven was not new. It was ancient, buried deep, and waking up whether either of them wanted it to or not.