Marcus and Anya rode together on the Violet Thunderwing Steed, trailing Chloe's Cloud-Mist Gale Steed at a comfortable distance. A cool breeze swept past them as they soared through the sky, gradually easing the last traces of heat from their earlier intimacy. Though they still held each other closely, their breathing finally steady, their attention drifted toward the vast and luminous landscape of Dominion unfolding beneath them.
From his vantage point in the sky, Marcus looked down at the rolling hills, shimmering rivers, and distant city walls, yet the beauty did little to quiet the heaviness lingering in his chest. For four years, one question had remained unanswered. He had handed Anya his first love letter himself, standing before her with all the courage he possessed, and she had never responded. Not even a rejection. Just silence.
Now, with her resting in his arms, radiant and smiling, he found that the words he had once rehearsed so many times refused to form.
