Tyron POV
"It's over, Lord Locrand," Tyron said, his voice echoing with authority as he leveled his sword at the man. "Release the princess. Now."
Locrand let out a guttural growl. "You arrogant elves think you can intimidate me?"
"We won't let you take the queen's only child," Tyron shot back. "I command you—put the princess down. This ends now."
Tyron stepped forward, his silver cloak billowing behind him as his boots crunched over ash and broken twigs. His sharp, ageless eyes never left Locrand.
"You've crossed the line for the last time, Locrand," he said, voice low but firm—like distant thunder before a storm. "You trespass on sacred ground, spill innocent blood and thank to you many have died in that fire what you cause sixteen years ago, and now you dare touch the heir of the Vila throne?"
Locrand tightened his grip around Willow's body, keeping her half-shielded against him like a bargaining chip. "She's more than an heir," he spat. "She holds power the rest of you are too blind to understand."
Tyron's jaw clenched. "The only power you see is the one you can twist and steal."
He raised his hand, and the warriors encircling them moved as one—blades drawn, spells flickering at their fingertips. The air buzzed with the tension of unleashed magic.
"You're surrounded. Put her down. Surrender, and perhaps you'll leave with your life," Tyron said coldly.
Locrand laughed—a bitter, ragged sound. "You still don't get it, do you, old elf? I didn't come to leave—I came to end this."
His hands began to glow with a dark, pulsing energy.
But Tyron didn't flinch.
"You think darkness makes you strong?" he said quietly. "Then you've forgotten what real power is."
With a flick of his fingers, a golden light burst from his palm, forming ancient runes that spiraled outward in a glowing circle. A protective shield shimmered between Locran and the surrounding warriors.
"Everest, step back," Tyron commanded without looking.
Everest hesitated, eyes flicking to Willow—still unmoving—but obeyed. Tyron eyes widened when he saw his son making a move and grabbed Willow out of the Dark lord Locrand arms and pulled her to him.
He was too quick for Lord Tyron, and before he knew it the man disappeared into thin air before them.
Everest POV
As Everest held Willow in his arms, he dropped to his knees, trembling with relief. The wicked man was gone, but now only silence remained—only Willow, breathing but still asleep. Gently, he laid her down on the forest floor.
She looked so small, so powerless, her eyes closed and face pale.
"Is she okay?" his father asked, stepping up beside him, voice low with concern.
Everest inhaled deeply, struggling to steady the storm in his chest. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice cracking with worry. "I think the best thing I can do is take her home… to our castle. Maybe the healers there can help her."
Tyron nodded solemnly, his expression darkening. "You know what to do," he said with quiet command. "I'll stay behind and meet you later at the castle"
Everest nodded, scooping Willow into his arms once more. He held her close against his chest, her fragile warmth the only comfort he had left. Without looking back, he turned and began the long walk to the Elven castle, every step weighed with urgency and love.
It took thirty minutes to reach the gates, but to Everest , it felt like an eternity.
When he arrived, he sought out the healers of the Elven kingdom. His voice was tight with emotion as he explained what had happened, every word a thread of desperation.
The Elven healers took Willow with the utmost care and disappeared into the sacred healing chamber—a place no one could enter but them. The doors closed behind them, and Everest was left alone, pacing the halls, silent prayers whispering from his lips.
Hours passed.
At last, the doors opened, and the head healer emerged, cradling Willow gently in her arms. Though she was still asleep, her body was whole—restored—and she now wore a flowing white gown made from the ancient, enchanted silk of the Elves.
Everest 's heart leapt. He stepped forward, bowing his head gratefully.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"She will be fine," said the healer softly. "She just needs rest now. Her spirit is strong."
Everest took Willow gently into his arms again, murmuring another thank you before turning back to the castle. He carried her to his private chambers, where only peace and protection lived. Carefully, he laid her down in his bed, covering her with the soft, white bedding.
This was the safest place in the world for her now.
And he would not leave her side—not until she woke.
Willow POV
With heavy eyes, she slowly opened them, drawing in a soft breath as she awoke from her deep sleep. As she shifted, lifting her body from its lying position, a gasp escaped her lips. The hard ground she once lay on was gone—replaced by soft fabric beneath her. She was no longer in the woods. She was in Everest 's room.
"You're awake."
She heard Everest 's voice. He stood slowly, stepping out from the corner of the room where he had been sitting on a leather sofa.
Willow frowned, rubbing her eyes. "Everest ?"
Her voice was laced with confusion. The last thing she remembered was being in the woods, calling out for him. Everest moved closer, and her eyes remained fixed on him as he came to sit beside her on the bed.
"When you sent out the fairy cry," he said solemnly, his tone deepening, "I knew it was you. I came immediately."
Willow nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. She remembered it now—how she used the last of her magic to cry for help. Panic suddenly surged through her.
"My mother..." she whispered, eyes wide with worry. "Are they okay? My people?"
Everest 's expression softened. He gently took her hand in his, holding it firmly.
"We arrived just in time. Your mother are here in my kingdom, resting. Some were injured, but we managed to save some of them."
Willow swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "Most of them?" she echoed.
Everest nodded, his gaze darkening as he inched closer. His blue eyes met hers with quiet intensity.
"I'm afraid... your entire kingdom is gone. The ogres destroyed everything. It's all turned to ashes."
A sharp breath escaped her lips. Her kingdom—her home—Vila, the land of the fairies, was gone. Reduced to dust. Though her mother was safe, the place where she grew up, where her memories lived, had been destroyed.
Sobs shook her body as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. She brought a trembling hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the sound of her grief.
"Willow..." Everest 's voice was gentle, filled with comfort.
Before she could respond, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. She buried her face into the crook of his shoulder and wept, her cries muffled against him as he held her through the storm of her sorrow.
His strong arms were like a comforting blanket wrapped around her as he held her close. After some time, her tears finally dried, leaving only the occasional soft sob shaking her body as she remained nestled in his embrace.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Thank you for saving me."
She slowly pulled away, wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks.
"Willow," Everest said gently, his voice low and sincere, "you mean everything to me. I would always come for you. I would always try to save you."
Her eyes met his. There was depth in his blue gaze—something fierce and unwavering. He reached out and wiped a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.
"You mean everything to me," he repeated, more firmly this time. "And I won't let anything happen to you."
His words struck something deep within her, and she could feel they came from his heart.
"I love you," Willow said, her voice trembling slightly as the words took root in the air. She had never spoken them aloud before, but now they felt undeniable, as if they had always been true.
Everest 's face lit up, and without a word, he leaned in. His lips met hers in a tender kiss—warm and gentle. She melted into his touch, into the comfort and passion that radiated from him. When he pulled away slightly, his forehead rested against hers as he whispered:
"I love you, Willow. With everything in me."
His voice was soft, full of warmth. In that moment, Willow knew that choosing to marry him, to be his, had been the right decision. He wasn't just her protector—he was her future.
Soon, she felt his lips leave her neck, and a soft whimper escaped her lips—already she longed for more of his touch. But then her eyes opened and fell on him as he pulled back slightly, his hands reaching for the hem of his shirt.
Willow watched, breath caught in her throat, as Everest drew the fabric over his head and cast it aside. A quiet gasp slipped from her lips, and she instinctively bit her lower lip in response to the sight before her.
She had never truly seen him like this—through the eyes of his soon-to-be wife, through the lens of raw, open desire.
His body was sculpted, strong and defined, every muscle carved like that of a warrior. She had always known he was powerful, but seeing him now, with the soft glow of the firelight flickering over his skin, he looked almost unreal.
He was beautiful—and hers.
Everest met her gaze, and a small, knowing smile played on his lips, but there was no arrogance in it. Only affection, and the fire of longing reflected in her own eyes.
"You're staring," he teased gently, voice husky.
Willow flushed, unable to stop the smile forming at her lips. "I didn't know you looked like that," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
His brow lifted in quiet amusement as he leaned in once more, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I've always been this way," he said, his tone soft and intimate. "But I think it's different… when the one you love is truly seeing you."
Her heart skipped.
Every word he spoke wrapped around her like a vow. She reached up, her fingers tentatively brushing his chest, the heat of his skin warming her fingertips. The closeness between them was electric—unspoken yet undeniable.
This was love, blooming in the quiet firelight and shadows, growing in the space between who they were and who they were about to become.
His lips found hers again, but this time, something was different—there was a spark, a pull between them that felt magnetic, sacred. Their kiss deepened, growing with intensity and longing. But his lips didn't linger; they began to trail downward, brushing along her jawline, tracing the curve of her neck with tender reverence.
When he reached the delicate strap of her fairy dress, Willow shivered as his fingers moved gently, guiding it off her shoulder.
His touch left a trail of heat against her skin. Then the other strap slipped down, and she felt the dress slide lower, revealing more of her as the fabric pooled around her waist. Her breath caught as the bodice dropped completely, baring her breasts to the flickering firelight.
Her cheeks flamed with a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation.
She never was so exposed before anyone—especially not before the one person who had always been her safest place. Her best friend. The boy who had grown into the man she now loved.
Everest 's eyes locked with hers, his expression full of awe and restraint. She saw him lick his lips nervously—he wasn't unaffected. His hands trembled slightly as he pull the dress more down from her body and tossed it aside.
Only her silk panties remained.
Willow swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest. She felt the heat of his gaze on her, but it wasn't leering. It was reverent, full of wonder—as though he were seeing a miracle.
Then he moved closer, gently lowering himself onto her again. His body was warm against hers, strong and solid, and the contact made her gasp softly. Their skin touched for the first time without barriers, and she clung to the feeling like it was her first breath after drowning.
Everest 's lips found her collarbone, and he kissed it slowly, tenderly, with the patience of someone savoring every moment. His hands, broad and warm, cupped her breasts with gentle curiosity, and she arched slightly under his touch, her breath deepening.
She closed her eyes, biting her lip as his hands explored her, squeezing her softly, learning her.
Then his mouth descended again, this time over her breast. His lips closed around her nipple, and a soft moan slipped from her lips.
She opened her eyes and looked down at him—his head bowed in worship, his mouth moving gently, teasing and tasting, his touch igniting parts of her she had never known.
He didn't stop there.
His kisses moved lower, mapping her body like sacred terrain. Down her stomach, leaving fire in their wake. Her hands clutched the silk blankets beneath her, her knuckles turning white with the force of holding on.
She'd never felt this way—never thought it could feel like this. Like love and longing had intertwined into something holy. Her body ached for more, her soul hungry for him in ways she couldn't name.
Then he reached the final piece of fabric on her body.
Willow's eyes flew open just as Everest adjusted, kneeling slightly as his hands reached for the waistband of her panties. His hands were trembling again. She saw it—and she realized he was just as nervous as she was.
Slowly, reverently, he began to slide the last barrier from her body.