Smoke curled through the air like dying whispers, the distant echoes of gunfire ringing in Kael Varyn’s ears. His team had been separated—nothing unusual. They all knew the risks.
He moved like a ghost through the ruins. A flicker of motion to his left—an enemy. Fast. Deadly. He barely had time to block as a blade hissed toward his throat.
Steel met steel.
Kael twisted, deflecting the attack and countering with ruthless precision. His opponent—a woman clad in sleek black armor—wasn’t just skilled. She was trained. Every move she made was calculated, deadly.
She fought like someone who had survived impossible things.
But he was faster.
Kael feinted left, then struck, slamming her against the cold stone wall. His hand locked around her throat, his knife poised to sink into the gap between her ribs. She gasped, her gloved hands gripping his wrist, but he was stronger.
Then their eyes met.
Everything shattered.
For thirty-two years, Kael had only known a world of black and white. A world of orders, of war, of merciless, cold efficiency. Color was a myth. A foolish dream whispered by soldiers who still believed in fate.
Yet now—suddenly—he saw everything.
The dull gray of the battlefield erupted into a spectrum of impossible hues. The sky was no longer a void but a deep stormy blue. The blood on the ground was a violent crimson. The cold steel in his hand gleamed silver.
And her eyes—her eyes were dark blue like the night sky.
His grip faltered. His breath hitched.
She stared at him in the same stunned silence, her chest rising and falling in sharp gasps. He took her in: long silver-white hair, braided back in a battle-ready ponytail. Her armor hugged her figure, reinforced yet flexible, designed for speed. Her lips, barely visible beneath her black tactical mask, parted slightly in shock.
She saw color too.
His soulmate. For the first time in his life, Kael hesitated. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do.