Page 57

My chain clinks as I shift from foot to foot, half-expecting an arrow to whistle from somewhere. But none comes. The collar around my neck is half-melted, runes dark, no longer enslaving me. My chest tightens with bittersweet relief.We’re not safe, not entirely, but we stand beyond the worst of it.

I turn back from the ledge to glance at Korrin, who stands a few steps behind me, leaning heavily on a crag of rock. His breath rasps in his throat, face pale from blood loss. Even in the thin light, I can see the sweat beading on his brow. My heart clenches.His wings—gone, severed in that final stand. The stumps remain bandaged, but they glisten with fresh seepage.

His eyes flick to mine with a weariness that speaks volumes. He tries to smile, but it’s more of a pained grimace. “They’re really scattering,” he observes, voice low and raw, scanning the departing gargoyles. “I never thought I’d see the clan break apart like this.”

Guilt tugs at me.He lost his entire life for me.In that single act—lifting the blade to hack his own wings—he severed not just bone and sinew, but the only home he’d known. I swallow thickly. “They have no alpha,” I say softly, stepping closer. The wind snags my hair, pulling it across my face. “No reason to stay if they’re not forced to.”

He nods, jaw clenched. For a moment, we share a look brimming with unspoken sorrow and relief.We survived.Then his legs tremble. A flicker of alarm rips through me. “Korrin?” I say, rushing to brace him.

He tries to wave me off, but it’s no use—his strength is nearly spent. “I’m fine,” he rasps, though the sweat on his forehead betrays him. Then his eyes roll back, and he collapses in my arms with a strangled groan, stumps brushing the air where wings once were.

I let out a panicked sob, easing him down onto the rocky ground. “No—no, no, no.” My chest seizes, tears pricking my eyes. My entire body shakes as I cradle his head, ignoring the metallic clink of the chain still looped around me. “Stay with me,” I whisper, voice cracking. “You gave too much for this—please don’t leave me now.”

The hush of the ridge wraps around us. Gargoyles still pass in the distance, paying us no heed, and the dark elves are long gone. My heart thuds wildly, each beat a question:Is this the moment I lose him after all we’ve overcome?

He doesn’t respond, eyes shut, breathing shallow.He’s alive, but so fragile.My tears slip like raindrops, landing on his battered face. For a breathless moment, I recall every step of our harrowing journey—his resolute vow in the fortress courtyard, our nights sheltering under broken walls, the scorching bond we forged that fueled our final battle.All that, only to watch him fade from blood loss on a barren ridge.The injustice of it roars in my chest.

I press my palm to his brow. Feverish heat simmers beneath the sweat. The stumps of his wings seethe red at the edges, bandages soaked.He needs healing we cannot provide.My purna power soared magnificently in moments of desperate battle, but healing is something else entirely. I have no skill for that, no control. The memory of my partial attempts stabs me:I seared his wounds in that cave, but that was hardly controlled healing.

“Tend him,” a faint voice in me insists, some leftover spark of magic whispering at the edge of my mind. “He gave everything for you.” My throat tightens, tears sliding down my chin.I have to try.

I steady myself, kneeling over him. My collar rattles, half broken, the runes extinguished. The chain rests limp in the dust.At least it can’t stop me now.Gently, I place one hand on his chest, the other brushing over the bandage nearest his right wing stump. The scorching memory of my destructive power unleashing silver flame floods me with dread—What if I burn him again instead of healing?But no alternative remains. He’s slipping away.

I inhale a trembling breath, closing my eyes. My entire body hums with leftover magic, the raw purna inheritance stirring.Focus, Elyria,I command myself, half terrified. I conjure the memory of the intangible bond we shared in that moment of intimacy, how our auras merged. We tasted each other’s strength then. Perhaps that synergy can do more than slay foes.

A faint glow stirs beneath my palms, not the raging silver arcs that destroyed so many, but a softer luminescence, tinted with warmth. My breath hitches in wonder, tears stinging.Yes, gently.I murmur a half-formed prayer, calling on the essence of my bloodline for healing, not harm. The glow spreads over his chest, illuminating the battered bandages. He moans softly, brow furrowing in pain. My heart leaps with hope.He’s reacting.

I let the energy flow, mind swirling with images of growth and life rather than destruction. It’s precarious—my power yearns to flare in unstoppable waves, but I keep it contained, focusing on mending. A surge of heat pulses from my core down my arms, seeping into his wounds. He groans, head tossing as if in a fever dream. I press closer, tears slipping. “Don’t die,” I whisper, lips trembling. “Stay with me.”

Gradually, the raw edges of his injuries ease, swelling receding, the flow of blood slowing. My chest tightens with relief. I’m no grand healer, but perhaps I can reduce the mortal danger. The sweet ache of magic in my veins intensifies, leaving me lightheaded.I’m pouring everything into him.The silver glow dims after a minute, the last flickers dancing around my fingertips. I slump forward, resting my forehead against his uninjured shoulder, vision spinning.I can’t do more.

Korrin’s breath comes steadier now, though still labored. I glance up, breath catching at the sight: his face is drawn with pain but not as ghastly pale as before. A gentle relief spreads across his features, eyelids fluttering.He’s not fully healed, but I’ve pulled him back from the brink.My tears overflow, chest shuddering with gratitude.

He stirs, blinking sluggishly. “Elyria?” he rasps. I exhale a sob, smoothing his hair from his forehead. “I’m here,” I breathe, biting back tears. “I… I tried to help. It’s not perfect, but…”

He offers a faint, wobbly smile that cracks my heart open. “You… did something,” he murmurs, confusion and awe tinging his voice. His eyes flick to the bandaged stumps. They remain gruesome, but the bleeding has indeed lessened, the skin less inflamed. “Feels… not as bad.”

I let out a shaky laugh that dissolves into weeping. He tries to reach up, wiping my tears, but his arm quivers with exhaustion. “Thank you,” he says, voice cracking.A single phrase that resonates deeper than any speech.

I cradle him against my chest, tears falling onto the dust. For a heartbeat, we hold each other in the quiet of the ridge, letting the last stragglers of gargoyles and elves vanish from our minds. The alpha is slain, the clan scattered, the dark elves retreating. We remain—battered, alive, bound by love. That knowledge pulses in my chest, a fragile joy overshadowed by the permanent damage to his wings.He can’t fly ever again.A wave of grief surges.

He notices my face contorting in sorrow, brows knitting. “Elyria,” he murmurs, brushing trembling fingers over my cheek. “Don’t cry. I chose this.”

I nod, tears unstoppable. “I know,” I whisper. “I just… I wish it didn’t cost you everything.”

His eyes brim with an emotion so tender it steals my breath. “You’re everything,” he says, voice thick. “I’d do it a thousand times more.”

A sob escapes me, a mixture of heartbreak and love. I lean in, pressing a shaky kiss to his mouth. He responds with a soft moan, the simple act laced with shared mourning and relief. My entire chest aches with longing for a world where he didn’t have to sever his wings.But I accept that no such world existed.

We remain huddled for a time, letting our tears subside into quiet acceptance. The ridge remains overshadowed by the day’s haze, the battlefield below us littered with the remnants of gargoyle armor and dark elf crossbows. No one lingers. Korrin tries to rise again, and this time I help him gently, mindful of the newly lessened bleeding. He leans heavily on me, arms looped around my shoulder, each step a test of his endurance.

We pick a path down the slope, avoiding the main route that once led to the fortress. The air crackles with a sense of finality. I see scattered gargoyle corpses in the distance, torn or scorched—remnants of that savage war. My stomach twists, but I push forward, guiding Korrin around the bodies. He spares them asorrowful glance, yet his jaw remains set.They chose the alpha’s cruelty; we did what we had to do.

As midday heat builds, we pause near a rocky outcropping overshadowed by a lone pine. Korrin sinks down with a choked groan. I kneel beside him, brushing sweat from his brow. “Rest,” I murmur. “We’re safe enough for now. Gargoyles scattered, dark elves withdrew. No one wants to face us after that final stand.” My lips quirk in a humorless half-smile, remembering how my magic flared violently.

He exhales, tension draining. “I never imagined… we’d see them flee,” he says, exhaustion slurring his words. Then his gaze flicks to me, eyes brimming with devotion. “Thank you.”

I frown, wiping tears from my cheeks. “For what?”