The morning after their marking, Korra woke wrapped in the warmth of Kael's arms. For a moment, she let herself pretend that Lucien's message had been nothing more than a bad dream, that the danger had passed with her father's defeat.

But the crumpled note still lay on the nightstand, a stark reminder that peace was an illusion.

Kael stirred beside her, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her shoulder. "How's the pain?"

She shifted experimentally. The arrow wound still ached, but the ...