The night wrapped itself around us like a velvet curtain, muffling the sounds of the world outside our window. In the hush, there was no war, no gods or cults or scars of the past. Just the rise and fall of her breath, and the warmth of her body tucked close against mine.
Auralia had fallen asleep with her head against my chest, her hand curled near my heart like it belonged there. And maybe it did.
Sleep didn't come as easily for me. The pain had lessened—miraculously so—but it still throbbed beneath the surface. Not just in my bones or skin, but deeper. The ache of nearly losing her. The guilt of dragging her into a life filled with danger and bloodshed.
I glanced down at her, the moonlight soft against her features. In sleep, the hardness she carried fell away. She looked younger somehow. Gentler. Still a thousand shades of wild and strong, but with a vulnerability few ever saw.
And I got to see it. Gods, I got to hold it in my arms.
My hand found her hair, brushing it back slowly. "You deserve better," I whispered to her sleeping form. "But I'm going to try. Every day, I'll try to be what you need."
I didn't realize when sleep finally claimed me. One heartbeat, I was watching over her. The next, I was sinking into her warmth, letting the weight of everything lift.
I woke before the sun, the sky outside still caught in the silver hush of twilight. Eiran was still asleep beside me, one arm protectively around my waist.
For a while, I didn't move. I simply watched him. The way his brow had smoothed, the usual tension in his jaw was gone. He looked… peaceful.
I thought about how much we'd both survived. About how close we'd come to being pulled apart forever. And yet, here he was. Here we were.
My hand reached up and traced lightly along his jaw, then down to the faint edge of a burn that had yet to fully fade. I hated what he'd endured. I hated that I couldn't stop it.
But I loved him for surviving. For fighting, even when he had every reason to fall.
I rested my forehead against his chest and closed my eyes, whispering words only the walls would hear. "You're mine now, Eiran. And I won't let the world take you from me."
I stirred as the first hints of sunlight crept through the window, warm and golden. Auralia was still curled against me, but I could feel she was awake — the steady rhythm of her breath, the slight tension in her body as though guarding something.
I opened my eyes and found hers already watching me. Neither of us said anything for a moment.
Then I smiled, my voice hoarse with morning. "You stayed."
Her answering smile was soft, fierce, and everything in between. "Of course I did."
The morning sunlight filtered through the stone-framed window, casting long golden lines across the tangled sheets and the quiet bodies resting within. There was no sense of urgency yet. No gods whispering. No monsters prowling. Just two souls who had, against all odds, found each other again.
I let my fingers trail down her arm as she stared up at the ceiling, still half-lost in thought.
"So…" I said, voice low, testing the waters. "We survived. Again. And I did just ask you to marry me in a completely reckless, unprepared way." I turned to look at her, eyes searching her expression. "Still okay with that?"
She gave me that mischievous little smirk that always sent a warm jolt through my ribs. "You think I would've stayed in your bed if I wasn't?"
"Well, it was a very comfortable bed," I teased.
Her laugh was quiet, but real. And gods, I needed that.
We lay in silence for a few more moments, a softness settling over us like freshly fallen snow. But already, in the corner of my mind, the questions started forming. What now? What about the mark? The cults? My powers? Our pasts?
"I think we need to leave soon," Auralia said, turning toward me, her voice dipping back into seriousness. "We've been here long enough to recover… and to be noticed. Too long, and we'll stop being guests."
I nodded. "Agreed. But we're not leaving without a direction. We should—"
A sharp knock echoed against the chamber door.
Both of us tensed.
Another knock. Then the door creaked open slowly to reveal the familiar, stern face of the temple high priest—the same one who had caught Auralia sneaking into my room before. But his expression was… different this time. Not scandalized. Not annoyed.
He looked almost reverent. Almost awed.
In his hands, he held a small velvet pouch—old, embroidered with the sigil of a god neither of us immediately recognized. From the slight shimmer of divine magic along its edges, it was clear: this was no ordinary object.
"I apologize for the intrusion," the priest said solemnly, eyes flicking from Auralia to me, lingering only briefly on our closeness, before returning to neutral calm. "But I was given a vision in the night."
"A vision?" I sat up, careful of the pain still nestled deep in my ribs.
The priest stepped further into the room, holding the pouch out toward me.
"From Aone herself. The Lady of Steel and Oaths," he said, bowing his head slightly. "She showed me two souls bound in battle, broken and rebuilt, tested by blade and fire. I was instructed to bring these to you this morning."
I exchanged a glance with Auralia. Her brow furrowed, wary.
The priest gently placed the pouch at the edge of the bed, then withdrew. "You should open them together."
Once the door clicked shut behind him, I took a breath and reached for the pouch. The velvet was warm in my hands—not from the sun, but from something older and deeper. I undid the simple knot and opened the flap.