Night settled fully over the clearing, turning the world soft and blue.
Fires burned low.
Wolves slept in circles of warm fur.
Dragons pulsed like great living coals.
Leopards curled on branches, tails dangling.
Elves meditated in gentle clusters.
Kanah stood slowly, and Owain rose with her immediately—
not crowding her, not gripping her—
but so close she felt his warmth with every breath.
He took her hand.
Not possessively.
Not dominating.
Just… holding it.
"Come," he murmured, voice low and tender.
"You need rest."
She nodded, letting him guide her toward a quieter part of the clearing, beneath a tall ancient root where the moonlight filtered like silver threads.
Owain sat first, leaning his back against the curved wood.
He looked up at her.
A question in his eyes.
Invitation.
Not assumption.
Kanah's heart fluttered.
She sat beside him—
then leaned quietly into his side.
His breath hitched, like she'd struck something deep inside him.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"You sure?" he whispered.
She nodded, voice soft.
"I want to stay with you."
Owain swallowed hard.
Then pulled her fully into his lap, guiding her gently until her cheek rested above his heart.
The moment she settled—
he exhaled.
Not relief.
Not lust.
A sound that was more like:
home.
Kanah listened to his heartbeat—steady, grounding, real.
"Owain?" she whispered.
"Yes?"
"I… don't know how to be normal after this."
His hand stroked her back slowly.
"You don't have to be."
Kanah closed her eyes.
"My father is gone. But part of me…"
Her voice cracked.
"Part of me feels empty."
Owain kissed her hair.
"That's grief," he murmured.
"And grief doesn't mean you wanted him. It means something in you needed closure."
Kanah swallowed thickly.
"I didn't love him."
"I know."
"I didn't even know him."
"I know."
"But losing him…"
A tear slid down her cheek.
"It feels like losing a shape that was always behind me."
Owain cupped the back of her head, pressing her closer.
"Then let me be behind you now."
His voice trembled.
"I'll be your wall. Your shield. Your warmth. Whatever you need."
Kanah's throat tightened painfully.
"I don't want to burden you—"
Owain growled softly—not angry, but wounded.
"You think you're a burden to me?"
She looked up, eyes shining.
"Owain…"
He wiped her tears with his thumb.
"You're not a burden. You're my center."
His forehead dropped to hers.
"You collapse, I catch you. That's not burden. That's bond."
Her breath shook.
"You mean that?"
He nodded.
"Every word."
Kanah let herself cry then.
Quietly.
Safely.
Held.
Owain rocked her gently, one hand stroking her hair, the other splayed across her spine.
"Let it out," he whispered.
"I'm here. I'm right here."
Kanah's tears soaked into his shirt.
Owain didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't try to silence her.
He held every tremor, every gasp, every broken sound.
He endured her storm with patience that would shame gods—
if they existed in this world.
When Kanah finally quieted, trembling but lighter, Owain pressed a kiss to her temple.
"You're so strong," he murmured.
"And you don't have to be right now."
Kanah rested her cheek on his chest.
"Stay with me tonight?"
Owain's entire body tensed—
then softened all at once.
"Yes," he breathed, voice breaking.
"Yes. Always."
THE OTHERS WATCH… SOFTLY
Across the clearing—
Helion sat on a branch, watching quietly, tail still.
Not teasing.
Not smirking.
Just… thoughtful.
Gerrin observed from where he tended mana wounds, eyes warm with empathy and concern.
Yllas, perched above, folded his wings and exhaled a plume of soft frost—
his version of a sigh.
Rhaegor murmured something to Vaeryn, and the two dragons nodded in quiet approval.
No jealousy.
No rivalry.
Not tonight.
Tonight, they understood:
Owain was the heart she needed first.
Tomorrow, the others would step forward again.
Tomorrow, there would be choices and complexities and tangled emotions.
But tonight—
Kanah slept in the arms of the wolf who broke himself trying to save her.
And the rest respected that.
THE QUIET OF DAWN
As she drifted toward sleep, Kanah whispered:
"Owain…?"
"Mhm?"
"Can we stay like this… just a little longer?"
Owain pulled her closer, tucking her beneath his chin.
"We can stay like this forever if you want."
Kanah smiled against his chest.
Warm.
Safe.
Held.
"Good," she whispered.
"Because I don't want to let go."
Owain's breath caught—
then he whispered into her hair:
"You never have to."
Kanah fell asleep in his arms, soft breaths warming his collarbone, fingers curled into his shirt.
Owain stayed awake long after her breathing steadied.
Not guarding the forest.
Not watching for enemies.
Just watching her.
Just loving her.
For the first time—
in peace.