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We speak little, each lost in quiet reflection. My chest thrums with anticipation so intense it nearly chokes me.I can’t believe after all we endured, we stand on the cusp of a mating vow free of any clan edict.My wing stumps flare with an ache, but a warmth suffuses my spirit.I’d trade flight a thousand times for this moment.

Elyria watches me with shining eyes as I finalize the wooden rings, smoothing them with a scrap of cloth. “They’re beautiful,” she murmurs, voice laced with gratitude. She presses a soft kissto my cheek, tears glistening. “I’ve never had a ring… or anything that binds me in love, not force.”

I exhale a shaky breath, tears threatening. “That’s exactly what I want,” I murmur. “To bind ourselves in love, not in chains.” She nods, sliding her palm against mine, quiet acceptance saturating the forest air.

The glade glows in the afterlight, shadows stretching across the mossy ground. I limp to the clearing’s center, staff in one hand, ring in the other. Elyria follows, holding her wildflower wreath. Our hearts are in unison. The hush grows almost reverent, as if the entire forest hushes to witness this moment—just as we wanted, no other watchers but the rustling leaves and starlight soon to come.

She stands before me, hair drifting in the faint breeze, collar gone, posture proud. My breath catches at her raw beauty.This is the woman I once nearly killed, the purna the clan wanted culled.Now she’s free, her magic swirling gently around her ankles in faint silver motes. My chest aches with awe and longing.

She takes a shaky breath, meeting my gaze with unwavering devotion. “Korrin,” she begins, voice trembling. “No fortress or empire controls me now. I vow to walk by your side, not behind, not in chains. Together, we shape our destiny. I reject every old brand or collar that once bound me. My magic, my body, my heart—they’re mine to give, and I give them to you freely.”

Tears slip down my cheeks at her words. She lifts the wreath of white wildflowers, carefully placing it over her head. “I wear these flowers to symbolize the new growth in me,” she murmurs. “A renewal of life beyond captivity.”

My heart thrums, tears filling my eyes. I swallow, voice hoarse as I speak. “Elyria… I was once an executioner, a winged instrument of the alpha’s cruelty. Now I stand wingless, but I stand for you, for our bond that transcends any clan edict.” Mythroat constricts, but I press on. “I vow to honor you as my equal, never master or subject. We walk side by side in love and freedom.”

She sobs softly, pressing a hand to her mouth. I retrieve the wooden ring from my pocket—carefully carved from a branch near our old shelter. “I made this,” I whisper, holding it out. “It’s rough, unpolished, but it carries the memory of the place we first truly learned to live free. Will you wear it?”

Her eyes well with tears, and she nods, extending her trembling hand. I slip the ring onto her finger. It’s not a perfect fit, but it settles there, symbolic of everything we overcame. She inhales sharply, tears falling, then clutches my hand.

She lifts a second ring from her satchel—I didn’t realize she had made one, too.My breath catches. She’s shaped it from a piece of driftwood we found near the stream. “This is for you,” she says, voice cracking. “A symbol that no matter how battered or broken, we find new purpose in each other.”

Tears blur my vision as she gently slides it onto my finger. The wood is warm from her touch, small whorls etched with quiet artistry. My wing stumps ache, yet my soul feels lighter than it ever did with flight.We share a vow none can shatter.

A hush falls, but the air crackles with subtle energy. Elyria’s eyes flutter closed, and I sense her purna spark awaken, not in fury, but in gentle resonance. Silver flecks swirl around our entwined hands. My breath quivers, recalling how I once saw her magic destroy armies, now harnessed to bless our union.

She speaks softly, voice carrying a melodic timbre, half incantation, half prayer. “By the earth that grounds us and the sky we can no longer fear, let our bond stand unbroken. My power is mine to wield, but I share it with you freely, Korrin, never to harm, but to heal and protect.”

The silver flecks intensify around our hands, humming with warmth. My heart pounds as I let the aura wash over mybattered spirit, not to shield me from battle, but to unite us in a vow the old world never taught. A faint shimmer envelops us, like a translucent veil of soft luminescence. My soul pulses with gratitude.We are forging a union that no alpha or dark elf brand can degrade.

Eyes shining with unshed tears, I speak in a hushed voice. “I stand as I am, wingless but unbound by false oaths. I offer you my strength on the ground, my devotion, my heart. Let no law or chain come between us, for we choose each other in love, not compulsion.”

My own energy stirs— a remnant of gargoyle resilience, the primal force that once soared. Now, it weaves with her silver sparks. I sense the intangible swirl binding us in quiet arcs, not a violent clash but a symphony of acceptance. Elyria’s tears fall, reflecting silvery motes. My chest brims with pure, uncontainable love.

Softly, we both exhale as the energy dissipates, leaving a subtle warmth coursing through our joined hands. The forest hush remains, branches overhead swaying in approval. Our rings rest on our fingers, a permanent testament that we no longer dance to another’s tune.

Gargoyles once called it a “mating ceremony,” but this goes far beyond a clan’s function. It’s purely ours, free from any watchful alpha or cheering crowd.Just two exiles forging a vow of the heart.Elyria steps closer, tears shining, and I hold her, pulling her gently to me. The ring on my finger glints in the fading twilight. My bandaged stumps ache, but I focus on the unwavering love in her gaze.

We press our foreheads together, tears mingling on our cheeks. “We are mates,” she whispers, voice trembling with reverence. “In freedom, in choice, in devotion.”

My breath hitches. “Forever,” I add, voice raw. “No alpha can revoke this vow.”

She laughs softly, though tears spill down her cheeks. “No dark elf collar can bind me to another’s will. I choose you, and no one else.”

A surge of emotion chokes me. We stand chest to chest, hearts pounding in unison. With an aching slowness, I cradle her face in my hands, wiping tears with my thumbs. She leans in, capturing my lips in a deep, lingering kiss that ignites every corner of my soul. No chain can match this bond, no vow demanded by cruelty can overshadow the vow we forged freely.We are one, exiles turned partners, forging life on our own terms.

We remain locked in that kiss until the sky darkens fully, the moon rising overhead. Eventually, we break apart, foreheads resting together, breath ragged with mingled joy and heartbreak. A tear slips down my cheek—I used to believe flight was my identity, but now I see that love is so much more.

She notices my tears and softly kisses each drop, whispering, “Thank you for choosing me over everything.”

I can only nod, words failing as emotion surges. We stand under the moonlit pines, clasping hands, new rings shining. The hush around us thrums with acceptance.This is our final image: two battered souls, no longer slave or executioner but equals, stepping forward as mates.

Eventually, we gather ourselves, crossing back to our small camp where the embers of a modest fire flicker. Elyria hands me my staff, and I take her hand in the other, leading her out of the clearing. Our hearts beat in an unspoken rhythm, fresh tears drying on our cheeks. The forest stands as our only witness, the hush of nature our only applause.

As we leave the glade behind, heading deeper into the unknown wilderness, I realize how drastically my life has changed. I no longer serve a clan alpha, nor do I stand as an executioner or winged predator. My identity rests in the vow Imade tonight—bound to Elyria by choice, by love, by the synergy of purna magic and gargoyle resilience forging a new path. A sense of unstoppable devotion courses through me.If the world hunts us, let it. We stand together.

Elyria walks at my side, no longer weighed by a collar or fear of forced chains. Her purna power hums at her fingertips, but it is not destructive now— it is protective, an extension of the vow we share. Her eyes shine with quiet wonder each time she glances at me. The ring on her finger gleams in the moonlight, rough-hewn but radiating sincerity. We are exiles who no longer cower. We might be alone, but we aren’t lonely.

We crest a small rise, the sky opening up above us, stars blazing in infinite patterns. My breath catches at the sheer immensity of possibility. Elyria slows, her gaze sweeping across the horizon. She sighs softly, contentment etched in her face. “Korrin,” she murmurs, voice carrying a hush of awe, “this is the first time I feel truly free, like the entire world is ours to explore if we want.”