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He nods, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, a promise that lingers between us in the quiet gloom. The sound of our breathing, slow and matched, fills the cave. For a moment, I recall the arena’s roar, the Alpha’s lethal staff, the unstoppable clan.We overcame them.My pulse thrums with a fierce joy that tears can’t fully express.

As evening deepens, the cave grows chilly. I tuck the battered cloak around Korrin, wishing I had more to offer him. We share a handful of the rations left in the pack—dried meat, stale bread. It’s not much, but enough to quell hunger pangs. The flickering firelight casts dancing shadows on the cave walls, revealing the rough shape of our battered bodies. Each bruise and scar is a testament to defiance.

Eventually, I lean into him, letting exhaustion weigh down my eyelids. My mind swirls with images: the clan’s twisted amphitheater, my unstoppable magic bursting forth, his wings shattering. Then I see him cradling me after the final blow, telling me we are free.That last moment defined everything.

For so long, we both served masters who treated us as tools—dark elves or the gargoyle Alpha. No more. We’ve rescued each other from that yoke, forging an alliance that no chain or collar can break. My chest warms with pride and love as I realize that in saving him, I saved myself.And in saving me, he discovered a life beyond the clan’s tyranny.

He shifts beside me, wincing at the movement. “Elyria,” he murmurs, drowsy. “When… I can walk better… we’ll keep going… find a real home.” His words slur with fatigue. My heart aches at his vulnerability, yet also brims with hope. A real home—someplace the clan’s claws can’t reach us, where my magic can be used gently, not in desperation.

“Yes,” I whisper, smoothing a hand over his hair. “We will. I promise.”

A small, content sound escapes him. His eyes flutter shut. I watch the flicker of the fire dance across his face, tears silently falling.We’re battered, haunted, and uncertain, but we remain free.My stomach twists with the knowledge that gargoyles or dark elves might soon come for us. But for tonight, in this hush of the cave, we’ve won a battle that nearly killed us. My magic, his sacrifice, our love forging a path the old tyrannies can’t control.

Outside, the wind hushes across the stone slopes, stars drifting overhead in a sky we can’t fully see from the cave’s mouth. Even so, I sense them shining, a quiet testament to possibility. Our future remains precarious, but we face it hand in hand. I nestle closer to Korrin, letting sleep edge in. If danger arrives, I’ll wake, if my magic doesn’t sense it first. For now, I trust in the fragile peace of night.

We have survived the worst of clan and elf. We’re battered, broken-winded, but defiant. If they come again, we’ll stand together. If my purna power stirs, I’ll harness it for us, not for them. Because no chain or wing can define us now—we define ourselves in love and rebellion, forging a new road in these savage mountains, unshackled by the masters we once served.

And as I drift into restless dreams, Korrin’s heartbeat against my shoulder, I dare to imagine a life beyond constant flight—a life where we rebuild from the ruins they left us. Where no Alphaor dark elf can claim dominion over our hearts. Where love transcends even the darkest nights of the soul.

16

KORRIN

Iwake to the hush of our hidden cave, pain radiating through my severed wings. Each breath aches, but the steady warmth of Elyria’s body beside me soothes the raw edges of my despair. Dawn spills across the rocky threshold, illuminating her sleeping form—hair tousled, collar half-shattered at her throat, cheeks smudged with soot. Even battered, she radiates a quiet, fierce beauty that cradles my heart.

My thoughts swirl, drifting back to the onslaught we escaped. The fortress behind us; a handful of dark elves who nearly recaptured her. The stumps of my wings pulse with each memory, a dull, unrelenting throb.I chose to destroy them so I could spare her life.And in the end, her awakened purna power saved us both, sending gargoyles and elves scattering. Yet we remain hunted, perched on a precarious edge.We can’t run forever, not while the Alpha might still breathe.The possibility that he survived the arena’s collapse gnaws at me. My chest knots with a fierce mixture of dread and resolve:If he hunts us, we must face him once and for all.

I shift carefully, ignoring the spike of pain in my back, and pull the tattered cloak higher over Elyria’s shoulders. Shemurmurs in half-sleep, pressing closer to me, her breath soft against my collarbone. The faint bruise around her throat, remnants of chain and magic, reminds me how close she came to dying in that arena.Never again.I stroke her hair gently, marveling that we’re still here, free of those devouring stares, forging a new path in these savage mountains.

My lips brush her temple. A wave of affection wells up—raw, consuming.She gave me everything: hope, freedom from the clan’s shackles, a reason to keep living.The hush of the cave feels like a cocoon around us. For a fragile moment, we can pretend the world outside has forgotten its hatred, that no Alpha or dark elf awaits.Just us, breathing in tandem, hearts bound.

Her eyes flutter open, dark lashes lifting. She blinks at me, a drowsy smile curving her lips. “Morning,” she whispers, voice husky. I see the worry in her gaze, but also love shining like dawn’s first light. My heart constricts.

“Morning,” I manage, voice rough. “How do you feel?”

She exhales, nuzzling closer, as though reluctant to rejoin the world’s perils. “Tired… but I’m alive. And you?” Her hand slides over my chest, carefully avoiding the bandages that cover my wing stumps.

My chest tightens with a pang of sorrow. “I’ve felt better,” I admit wryly. My breath catches as she traces a soft path up my neck. Even through the haze of pain, my pulse stirs, awakened by her tender touch.She’s not just a partner in war, but in love.Warmth floods me, tangling with the ache.

She props herself up on one elbow, hair tumbling across her face. “Let me see,” she murmurs, voice laced with concern. Gingerly, she peels back the bandages, revealing the messy cauterized wounds. Her eyes flick with tears. “I’m sorry,” she chokes, recalling the brutal night I hacked away my wings rather than kill her.

I cover her hand with mine, ignoring the dull throb in my back. “I’m not,” I say, fierce sincerity flooding my tone. “I’d do it again.” A tremor runs through her, tears slipping free. Gently, I cup her cheek, guiding her gaze to mine. “Elyria, I’d rather stand wingless beside you than soar alone under the Alpha’s orders.”

She lets out a shaky breath, pressing her brow to mine. Our tears mingle in the silence of the cave.This is our vow—our bond.My entire being aches with the desire to assure her we’ll make it out of this living.I want to show her that my love runs deeper than any wound or clan decree.

In that quiet dawn, something shifts between us—a soft, pulsing need for connection, not just in words but in body and soul. My pulse quickens as Elyria’s fingers glide along my collarbone, brushing past fresh bruises. She leans closer, the chain at her neck rattling lightly, the half-burned metal no longer binding her magic. Her eyes search mine with a longing that stirs warmth in my chest.We’ve fought so hard for each other, risked everything. This moment is ours, stolen from the jaws of war.

I slip my arm around her, careful of my injuries. She sinks into me, breath hitching. Our lips meet in a fragile, questing kiss—tentative at first, as though we fear reawakening the horrors left behind. But each passing second sends sparks dancing through my veins, overshadowing the pain. Her body trembles against mine, relief and yearning blending.No more running, no more fear. Just us.

We break apart, breathing ragged. Elyria’s cheeks flush in the dim light, tears glistening on her lashes. She runs a trembling hand across my bare chest. “Are you sure… your wounds?” she asks, voice quivering with love and worry.

A soft groan escapes me. The pain remains, yet the ache of longing for her runs deeper. “I need you,” I confess, voice husky, pressing my forehead to hers. “Not just physically, but—by yourside, heart to heart. Every inch of me is broken except where you hold me together.”

Tears brim in her eyes, and she nods, lips parted in raw emotion. Without further words, we fuse into another kiss, this one deeper, urgent. My battered body complains, but I hush the pain, letting the flood of her warmth and scent envelope me. She clutches the back of my neck, mindful of the bandages, but determined. Our hearts beat in sync, forging a bond that transcends the violence behind us.

In careful movements, we maneuver on our makeshift bedding of pine branches and cloth scraps, the cool stone beneath softened by a stray blanket. The cloak covers us in patchwork shadow. Each brush of her skin sends flares of heat racing through me, banishing the fortress’s chill.We have so little time.The memory of the Alpha’s wrath lingers in my mind, but I push it aside.Now is ours.

Elyria trembles, pressing a shaky kiss along my jaw, tangling her fingers in my hair. I slide my hand along her waist, feeling the flutter of her pulse. Our breathing quickens.This is not just lust but a desperate need to affirm we’re alive, still able to share tenderness after such brutality.She guides my hand over the curve of her hip, and I feel a fresh wave of gratitude for her trust. My lips skim the line of her throat, tasting salt and tears. Her sigh resonates deep in my chest.