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My illusions glow and swirl around us, reflecting my grin. “Skewer them, definitely. Now come here.”

We share another kiss, slow and languid. The night is ours to shape—the monarchy’s vow broken in the dust, leaving behind only the promise of our new bond. Outside, the storm clouds roil ominously, a cameo of the darker threat we both sense churning in Protheka’s depths. But that is for another dawn. Tonight, we celebrate the triumph of choosing each other without fear or chain.

Hours later, the storm breaks in earnest, lightning flashing against the tower’s crumbling walls. Rain batters the night, but we remain curled among the blankets, illusions warming the space with faint glimmers. Each time thunder rattles the stones, we share a soft laugh, pressing closer, horns bumping in affectionate exchange. We’re mates—no vow or prophecy can stand against that.

Dawn arrives drenched in rain-soaked hush, the world beyond the tower shimmering with renewed color. I wake with Valentina dozing on my chest, her horns pressed under my chin. My illusions pulse with a gentle glow, unforced, an extension of my soul. I breathe in the scent of damp grass and her warmth, a quiet contentment anchoring me. The monarchy’s chain is undone, replaced by a vow of our own making.That is the final image of our new life.

We rise eventually, new beginnings stirring in our limbs. She tightens the straps on her battered boots while I gather the illusions that will cloak us from prying eyes. In the distance, thunder still murmurs, reminding us that something stirs beneath the earth. But we are not the same beings we were when the vow enslaved me and fear plagued her every step. Now, we stand united in a twisted love that defies fate, horns and illusions shining in a stormlit dawn.

Her silver gaze meets mine as we step outside into the wet morning. Raindrops glitter on her horns, a reflection of the vow’s fragments washed away by freedom. She lifts a hand, blackrunes faintly pulsing along her arm, and tangles her fingers with mine. “Together,” she says, just one word, but it’s a promise that resounds in the hush.

I nod, magic glowing around my horns as the wind tugs at my wings. “Always together,” I echo, letting a tide of devotion color my voice. We turn from the tower, stepping into the swirling mists of Protheka’s morning. The storm beyond might loom, something worse stirring beneath the crust of this world, but we hold each other’s hands with a dark, unbreakable hope. The cycle of chains is broken, replaced by a vow shaped by love and defiance, our horns lifted in silent victory.

Freed from monarchy’s yoke, we forge a life on our own terms, mates by choice, illusions swirling and demon runes glowing in the half-light. A new future beckons, a twisted love that might save or condemn Protheka. But in this moment, as the sun fights its way through the storm clouds, I have Valentina at my side, horns and all, and I need no vow to force me to cherish her. I choose her—we choose each other—and that is enough to face whatever darkness arises next.