The tavern's back garden was quiet now, the celebration inside muffled to a distant hum. Azrael sat on the stone wall overlooking the twin cities, their lights bleeding into the night like stars pulled down to earth. His draconic hands—scales catching moonlight in ways human skin never could—rested loosely in his lap, claws retracted, as he stared at the lights of the twin cities.

  Kayla dropped beside him with the comfortable gracelessness of someone who'd known him too long to bother with decorum.

  For a moment, neither spoke. Then:

  "Do you love her?"

  Azrael paused. A quiet breath left him. He glanced at Kayla. The single black line running from her bottom lip to her chin stood stark against her pale northern complexion, a mark of her tribe.

  Turning away, his gaze tracked across the garden to where a figure moved through the crowd inside—short red hair catching lamplight, elven features sharp and delicate, laughter carrying through the glass like music he'd memorized without meaning to.

  Elara. Of course Kayla meant Elara.

  "Of course," he said carefully. "She's one of my closest friends. I'm her closest friend, by her own admission actually. She tells people that. 'Azrael? He's my brother in all but blood.' Direct quote."

  "You know damn well that isn't what I mean." Kayla's hands flew up in exasperation, northern bluntness colliding with his careful evasion like steel on stone.

  "Then what—"

  "Do you love her as more than a friend?"

  Azrael was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was flat as if reciting a prepared speech. "In regards to your first question, I did love her. To your second question, I don't love her in that regard anymore."

  "Bullshit."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You don't get over a love that fast." Kayla turned to face him fully, something tight and uncertain flickering in her eyes. "Not a real one. Not one that actually mattered." she added, voice dropping to a whisper he barely caught, even with draconic hearing.

  "I did. And I'm still one of her closest friends. That's the proof, isn't it? If I still loved her like that, I couldn't just remain frie—"

  "All the more reason you should have told her." she said. "Before it got to this point. Before you dug yourself so deep into this 'brother' hole. I still can't believe you've told her "What are friends for?". "

  Azrael's jaw tightened, and the hairs on Kayla's arm stood straight. For a moment something dangerous flickered in his eyes as he looked beyond her. At himself, at the situation, at the cosmic unfairness of wanting something he couldn't have without destroying what he had.

  He closed his eyes and she waited patiently as he breathed in and out, pulling back the Dragon's Fear he had let slip.

  "I don't think you quite understand what that means." His voice was too controlled, the way voices got when they were holding back something that wanted to break free. "In her own words, I am her closest friend. So what do you tell your closest friends?"

  "I don't know. Funny tales? Their favorite foods?"

  "Your crushes. Your inner conflicts. Your romantic struggles. The moments when you need advice about the person you're interested in." He turned to look at her fully, and in his expression, was something she had rarely seen in him. A glimpse of defeat.

  "What do you think she has talked to me about, Kayla?"

  "Oh."

  A bitter smirk covered his face in response to her embarrassed realization, but there was no humor in it.

  "As you know, for the first time in years, she aroused my interest in someone as more than a friend." He looked back toward the tavern, toward the red-haired figure moving through the crowd. "I fought against it. Told myself it was just proximity, just loneliness, just my stupid draconic brain latching onto the first person who treated me like something other than a weapon or a curiosity."

  "What about me asshole?"

  "Let me clarify, one of the few people who treated me as a person first." he said, rolling his eyes.

  "That's better, and don't you forget it, hmph" she replied.

  He paused, looked at her eyes with a raised eyebrow before they both burst into laughter.

  "Thank you, I truly needed that Kayla."

  She smiled

  Seconds passed, as the mood resettled, then he continued.

  "But her laugh... it sparked something warm in my chest. Like embers I'd thought were dead suddenly catching. And the way she saw the best in the world despite our situation—despite the wars, despite the prejudice, despite everything—she genuinely made me want to be a better person. Actually be better. For her. For myself. I don't know. The distinction stopped mattering after a while."

  Kayla said nothing, just listened with a quiet sad smile.

  "So eventually, I decided to stop suppressing it. Stopped meditating it away every night like it was a curse I could excise through sheer will. We ventured into dungeons together, explored the twin cities, spent hours talking about nothing and everything. And she..." His voice caught slightly. "She began touching my shoulders more. My arms. Trying to grab my attention away from other women when they'd approach, creating reasons for us to leave together. Small things. But consistent things. Things that felt like signs."

  "Then what happened?" she whispered.

  "Then she told me about Veran."

  The name hung in the air like smoke.

  "She told me about their first conversation. How interesting she found him. How different he was from other men. How he saw her, really saw her, in ways other people didn't." Azrael's hands clenched slightly, claws extending just a fraction before he forced them to retract.

  "And I listened. I played the role of the wise friend like a fool. Gave her genuine advice on how she could get closer to him, what signs to look for, how to interpret his behavior. Because that's what friends do, right? That's what I was supposed to do."

  "Azrael—"

  "She told me about their first date. The first time he made her laugh. The first time she felt butterflies. Every. Single. Detail."

  His voice flattened again, control sliding back over the cracks.

  "And then she told me about their first kiss..." He swallowed. "I lied that I was going, to the bathroom, locked the door, splashed water on my face, and sank to the floor and cried."

  A beat passed, as someone called for Alcohol over the roar of the music and another requested a new song. Yet, no one noticed him except Kayla.

  Azrael tilted his head back toward the sky.

  "I didn't even know why, I just... cried." His voice growing soft. "The way you cry when something inside breaks and you can't even name what it was."

  A drop slid down his cheek. Then another.

  "Damn it. why is it raining?" he muttered.

  Kayla froze, panic flickering across her face, as words leapt out of her mouth.

  "uh, dumbass didn't you notice the clouds all day?" she blurted

  Azrael blinked, then gave a crooked smile at her.

  There hadn't been a single cloud all day

  "Yeah. Sure. Fuck the clouds."

  “Maybe you should try—” she said before her brain caught up to her mouth, “—fucking Elara instead of the clouds.”

  Silence. The celebration roared on behind them.

  Kayla’s eyes went wide with horror. “I didn’t mean—Azrael, I’m so sorry, that came out wrong—”

  Azrael stared at her, hurt, eyes blinking rapidly, as Kayla turned away, braiding her black hair.

  Silence stretched between them. The celebration continued inside with someone starting a drinking song.

  "I get it," Kayla said finally, voice tight. "But you should have fought for her. Spent more time with her."

  "Why should I have to fight for her attention?" The words came out closer to a growl than intended. "Why is it my responsibility to compete with every other man? To prove myself worthy?"

  "YOU HAD A CHANCE." Her voice cut through sharper than she'd meant.

  He turned to look at her, startled by the edge in her tone.

  "She leaned on you. Got jealous when you talked to other women. Those aren't accidents, Az. Those are signals." Kayla's hands clenched in her lap. "Any idiot could see—"

  She stopped herself.

  "What?"

  "Nothing."

  "WHAT CHANCE?" Azrael stood abruptly, scales catching light like armor, Dragon's Fear leaking again. "The moment I think we're getting closer, she tells me about another guy? He leaned in for a kiss and she hugged him. why would she tell me that? Then she keeps seeing him and asking for my advice. So what, she's trying to do? Make me jealous?"

  "Maybe she—"

  "If she's willing to do that, what does that say about her? Why would I want her?" His voice cracked.

  Kayla watched him, something complicated moving behind her eyes. "Because you already do want her."

  He slumped back down. "The easier option is she was never into me. That everything I thought were signs were just... her being friendly with someone she trusted not to make it weird."

  "Or," Kayla said quietly, "maybe she's not as perceptive as you think. If she couldn't see how you felt after all those signs, after all that time..." She paused. "Maybe she wasn't the one."

  Azrael looked at her sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "I mean—" Kayla's fingers traced the black line on her chin, the nervous habit she'd had since joining the guild. "In a healthy relationship, people notice things. They ask questions. They're curious about each other. And from what you're telling me..."

  "She asked about Veran."

  "Exactly." Something cold crept into Kayla's voice. "She had endless curiosity for him. But when you opened up about the transformation, about losing your humanity—" The temperature around them dropped noticeably. "—she said 'that sounds hard' and moved on?"

  "I don't think she meant—"

  "I don't care what she meant." The frost reached Azrael's side of the wall. Kayla's northern heritage showing in ways it rarely did. "You deserved better than polite acknowledgment. You deserved someone who actually saw you."

  Azrael stared at the spreading ice, then at Kayla. Her jaw was clenched, eyes bright with something that wasn't quite tears but wasn't quite rage either.

  "Kayla," he said softly. "You're freezing the wall."

  She blinked, looked down, and the ice stopped spreading. Didn't melt—just stopped.

  "Sorry." She pulled her hand back. "I just... she had you right there. Someone who actually gave a shit about her opinion, who listened to every detail about her life, who would've—" She cut herself off. "And she couldn't even bother to be present when you needed her. That's not someone worth breaking yourself over."

  "You don't understand. She—"

  "I understand perfectly." Kayla's voice was steady now, but her hand trembled slightly as she touched the frost she'd created. "I understand you've spent so long trying to be what she needed that you forgot to notice whether she ever tried to be what you needed."

  The words hung between them.

  Azrael was quiet for a long moment. "You think I should call her out on it. Step away from her?"

  "I think you should recognize that someone who can't see your struggles when you're standing right in front of them isn't the person you think they are." Kayla finally looked at him directly. "And I think you deserve someone who actually pays attention."

  Something in her tone made him pause.

  "Kayla—"

  "Maybe." He looked back toward the tavern, toward where Elara was laughing with Veran. "Maybe you're right. But it doesn't matter now."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'd rather have her in my life like this than not at all." His voice went flat again. "And before you argue—I know. I know it's killing me slowly. I know I'm choosing comfortable suffering. But at least I get to keep the friendship. At least I still get to hear her laugh."

  Kayla's hands clenched again, and small ice crystals formed on her knuckles. "That's not a friendship, Az. That's you performing while she takes."

  "You don't know that."

  "I know what I see." She turned to face him fully. "I see someone who remembers every detail you tell them about your day. Someone who asks follow-up questions about things you mentioned weeks ago. Someone who actually notices when you're hurting even when you're trying to hide it." Her voice softened. "That's what caring looks like. What she's doing? That's just... letting you care at her."

  Azrael studied Kayla's face. The way she wouldn't quite hold eye contact, the way her fingers kept tracing that black line on her chin, the way the frost on the wall hadn't melted despite her pulling back her power

  "To think a couple years ago, you were the one coming to me to ask about how to make friends with Cotton and Eric." Shaking his head. "When did you get so wise about relationships?" he asked jokingly.

  "When I started paying attention to people who matter."

  Azrael looked away from the tavern. Looked at Kayla's dark charcoal eyes. He glanced at the ice she'd made in protective anger, at the way she sat close enough to offer warmth but not close enough to crowd, at the way she'd covered for his tears with a lie about clouds.

  "Thank you," he said finally. "For this. For listening. For..." Azrael gestured at the frost.

  “…For caring enough to get angry on my behalf",” he said quietly.

  Kayla snorted. “Please. I freeze things when I’m annoyed, too.”

  “Kayla.” His voice softened in a way it rarely did, and she stilled.

  He opened his mouth as if something finally clicked into place, but whatever realization hovered there never fully landed. His gaze flicked back toward the tavern window instead, drawn by Elara’s silhouette passing by the window's lamplight like a reflex he couldn’t unlearn.

  Kayla followed the direction of his eyes. Her jaw flexed once more.

  “I’m not your fallback option, Azrael,” she said bluntly.

  She stepped closer before he could respond and pressed two fingers lightly against his chest, right over his heart.

  “When you talk to me,” she continued, quieter now, “your attention should be here. Not drifting somewhere else.”

  Her hand dropped.

  “If you’d ever looked at me that way,” she added softer, almost matter-of-fact, “I would’ve noticed.”

  Azrael blinked, startled, as if she’d spoken in a dragon's tongue he knew but had never learned to listen for.

  “I didn’t—Kayla, that’s not what I—”

  “I know.” She stepped past him, the faint frost on her breath dissolving as she moved toward the tavern. “That’s the problem.”

  She took a few steps, then paused at the door and glanced back.

  Something unguarded lingered in her eyes. A quiet ache, contained, still barely holding out for hope.

  For the briefest moment, something in his expression wavered, a question forming behind his eyes.

  Then Elara’s laugh drifted through the open window, bright and unthinking.

  Azrael flinched.

  Kayla’s shoulders tightened, but she only nodded once.

  “Come on, Az,” she said gently.

  He rose and fell into a step behind her, the distance between them unchanged

  but now he felt it.