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“You felt it too, huh?” Rollo’s voice came low, a rough scrape of concern and wonder beneath his breath.

Delilah didn’t answer right away. She leaned into him, grounding herself in the solid warmth of his chest, the familiar scent of pine and soil. Her heart was still rattling from what the forest had whispered—but she nodded.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “It’s getting louder. More urgent.”

Rollo’s arms tightened around her waist, protective even in the softness of the moment. “It felt like something shifted... inside me. Not just the pain. Deeper.”

She turned slowly, meeting his eyes, and saw the flicker of worry there. Not fear—he’d always met fear head-on. But something close. Something vulnerable.

“You think it means what I think it means?” he asked.

She exhaled. “Something’s coming. Something big. And I think…” She hesitated, eyes flicking to the canopy. “I think the forest is calling in what’s owed.”

His brow furrowed. “Owed?”

Delilah nodded. “When I found you, you were barely breathing. Your body wasn’t responding—not even to healing spells. I panicked. I didn’t have enough magic to purge the poison. Not on my own.”

He stilled.

“I didn’t pull from herbs or charms,” she continued. “I called the land. The forest. Whatever ancient spirit still listens beneath these trees.”

He stared at her, silent.

“I gave it something,” she said softly. “Something I couldn’t name. I just... poured myself into you. And the forest let me.”

“You channeled through the earth,” he whispered. “Throughyou.”

“It’s old magic,” she said, voice cracking slightly. “Not just healing. It binds. Tethers. And now we’re tied in a way that... I don’t fully understand.”

Rollo looked down at his hands, then at hers.

“That’s what I’ve been feeling,” he murmured. “Like I’m not just breathingmybreath anymore. Like you’re in my blood.”

She smiled faintly. “I am.”

He was quiet for a long moment, then said, “Do you regret it?”

Delilah turned in his arms fully, lifting her gaze to his. “Not a chance.”

Relief passed across his features like dawn breaking open a storm. His mouth curved into a slow, crooked smile, one that settled deep in her ribs.

“Good,” he said.

She reached up and touched his cheek, brushing her thumb along his jaw. “But we need to be ready. That bond? That power? It’s not just between us. It’spartof whatever’s waking up.”

His eyes darkened with understanding, his hand curling around her waist. “Then we don’t face it alone.”

“We can’t afford to.”

“We won’t.”

They dressed in silence, folding the night away like a sacred thing.

By the time they stepped back onto the trail toward the sanctuary, the sun was rising bold and bright above the mountain ridge. The town was still, but the air felt... charged. Like magic had stretched its arms and yawned.

As they walked, Delilah reached for Rollo’s hand. He took it without hesitation.

No hiding. No fear.