Nova leaned over Amari’s shoulder, his breath brushing her neck.
"Do you want my help again?"
He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Amari flinched. The space between them vanished too easily. Her fingers curled around the edge of the workbench, heart thudding against her ribs like a warning.
He was too close—too calm—and his presence was heavy in a way that made her instincts scream.
"I don’t."
She said sharply, pulling back and stepping away.
Nova didn’t follow. He simply smiled, his expression unreadable, as though her rejection was expected. It made her all the more irritated.
She turned her back to him quickly, trying to busy herself with the work table, but her hands trembled slightly.
Her chest still tingled from the rush of adrenaline—and sothing else she didn’t want to na.
Ridiculous. She scowled.
’Focus.’
Grinding down herbs into powder should have steadied her nerves, but she moved through the process too fast, her hands outpacing her thoughts.
She reached the final component—the K’ther blossom Nova had restored.
The mont she touched it, she paused.
The petals were soft but humming with latent energy, the aether saturated beyond anything she’d cultivated before. Her frown deepened.
That... was not normal.
Her gut twisted.
She didn’t know what he’d done to it, but this wasn’t the sa bloom she’d started with. It pulsed faintly, like it was still alive, like it rembered his touch.
’This is going to be a problem.’
She couldn’t remove it. The priests were expecting this batch by sundown. If she delayed, they would question her—punish her.
And if she told them it was soone else’s work... they would question her even more. Perhaps worse.
Amari bit the inside of her cheek, scooped the finished mixture into an engraved case, and sealed it tight.
The temple sat on a high cliffside above the village, its spires catching the last gold of the setting sun.
Amari’s steps were slow as she walked the familiar path, past pale statues and a garden of crystal-rooted trees.
She hated this place.
She hated how quiet it was, how clean, how utterly controlled. Nothing blood here without permission.
At the gates, the sentry priest stepped aside without a word. They all knew her by now.
Inside, three priests waited by the altar—robes layered and faces shrouded in white and gold. They always seed so tall in these halls. Like they’d been chosen for it.
Amari stepped forward and held out the case.
"The batch you requested."
The tallest one opened it. He breathed in the scent and paused.
"The K’ther. It has blood."
He said.
Amari kept her eyes down.
"Yes."
Another priest leaned closer, nostrils flaring like a predator.
"This is potent. How did you achieve such refinent?"
"I didn’t do anything unusual."
She said carefully.
The priests exchanged glances. One of them tapped the case again, inspecting it like it might bite.
"This is not the sa as before. The energy within this... it is awake."
He said.
Amari said nothing.
The silence lingered, pressing against her spine.
"You will bring us more like this."
One of them finally said.
She looked up, startled.
"This one was a rare case. It may not happen again."
"You misunderstand. You will bring us more. This level of refinent is the standard now."
The tallest priest said, tone still polite but firm.
Amari’s throat tightened.
"That plant took months—"
The priest raised a hand, and she went quiet.
"There are always consequences for those who fail to et expectations."
He said.
The words weren’t spoken loudly, but they struck harder than a scream.
Amari lowered her head again.
"Yes... High One."
They dismissed her with a wave. She turned, heart heavy, and walked back down the temple path with her fists clenched and anger in her throat. She didn’t look back.
As Amari turned to leave the temple, one of the priests raised his hand.
"Have a good day, Herbalist Amari."
The words were smooth, almost pleasant. But when she looked up, the priest’s eyes held sothing cold and sharp beneath the surface. A warning—no, a threat.
She nodded stiffly and walked away, shivering once the temple gates shut behind her.
Back at her workshop, Nova glanced up from the corner where he was fiddling with a strange seed pod.
"How’d it go?"
Amari didn’t answer.
She crossed the room in long, fast strides, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him up to stand.
Nova blinked, surprised, but allowed it.
"You absolute—Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"
She growled, voice low.
Nova tilted his head.
"Helped?"
She scowled and tightened her grip.
"Because of your ’help,’ the priests now expect to give them more of the sa miracle plant. And when I told them it was rare, they told I had no choice. Do you know what happens when soone fails the temple?"
"Let guess! They’re gently reminded to do better?"
Nova said calmly.
"They disappear. Quietly. Without trace. Which ans we’re both screwed, because I don’t know how to make another K’ther bloom like that, and they think I’m hoarding secrets."
Amari snapped.
She released his collar with a frustrated groan and turned away, pressing her fingers to her forehead.
"Why did I even let you touch that stupid flower..."
She didn’t hear him move.
Only when she opened her eyes did she realize just how close he’d gotten—again.
Nova’s face hovered inches from hers, eyes watching her with a quiet intensity. He wasn’t smirking now. His voice was soft when he spoke.
"You don’t have to panic."
Amari froze.
His tone was far too soothing, like he ant it, and that unsettled her more than his usual attitude.
"If they want more, then give them more."
He said.
"I can’t—"
She started, stepping back quickly.
But her heel caught on the edge of a root basket she’d left on the floor.
She gasped and pitched backward.
Nova’s hand moved in a flash, catching her wrist and waist in one swift motion. The fall stopped short, her body suspended in his arms.
Her breath hitched as she stared up at him, the proximity suddenly far too real.
His voice ca again, lower this ti.
"Then learn."
Her heart thudded.
It wasn’t the words—it was the way he said them. Calm, certain, as if the answer had always been simple.
As if the danger didn’t matter. As if he’d already decided she wouldn’t fail, because he wouldn’t let her.
Amari’s fingers curled involuntarily into the fabric of his shirt, unsure if it was to steady herself or push him away.
She could feel the strange warmth of his aether lingering on his skin, beneath her palm.
"You’re impossible."
She muttered.
Nova smiled faintly.
"You’re welco."
She stared at him for a second longer, still in his hold, still trying to find sothing smug in his face—so hint of mockery.
But he was just... looking at her.
And that was worse.
Slowly, she pushed away from him, standing up again.
"Fine. You win. But if I’m going to learn how to bloom those things... you’re teaching ."
He gave a small bow.
"With pleasure."
She sighed, walking back toward the table with her cheeks still too warm.
’This is going to be a disaster. A slow, painful disaster.’
She thought.
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