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Shoving her foot into the stirrup, Adelina hoisted herself onto the saddle.

When they were mounted, they galloped along the trail behind the palace, leaving the fiery wreckage behind.

∞∞ ∞

By the time they’d reached the border of Temauten, a week had passed. There’d been no sign of Filip, no sign of his men.

Adelina bit her bottom lip. If he’d survived the explosion, he would’ve searched for her. He would’ve sent men to find her if he were incapable. Perhaps Filip’s death marked the end of her and her loved ones’ suffering.

When Damir returned to her, he pressed a warm kiss to her temple. “You’re frowning.”

“I know.” She slithered her arm around his waist and held him close. “We’re heading home—to Aramoor—and I can’t help but think of my sister. I’ll see her face everywhere I look.”

“Filip is dead. The man responsible for your sister’s murder is dead ,” he reminded her. “You can finally put all this behind you. You can grieve with your family, and when it is time, you can live the life you always wanted. With me.”

She rubbed her eyes, then dragged her hand around to the back of her neck where she squeezed the muscles. “You’re right. I have no reason to doubt he didn’t die in the fire. This is it…he’s truly gone.”

“Yes. It’s finally over. We can go home.

Together.” He lowered his head, pressing his lips against hers.

A shot of warmth bolted through her core.

She’d missed him—she needed him in every way a wife needed her husband.

His touch relieved the ache in her heart, the ever-present pain since her sister’s death.

The agony reignited with Yelena’s sacrifice.

A fire burned in his eyes, giving her the impression he needed her too. Her hands travelled up his chest.

“The fire is lit.” Natasha’s voice sliced the silence, startling Adelina. “Sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Adelina cleared her throat as she stepped back from Damir. “No, don’t be. You should’ve asked me to light the fire—I do have magic.”

Natasha smiled. “I don’t mind. It’s the least I could do.”

Returning the smile, Adelina clasped hands with her husband, then walked over to the fire.

He impaled the fish he’d caught earlier on sticks and hung them above the flames on makeshift brackets.

Once they’d eaten, Adelina left him in Natasha’s company and headed for the stream.

Kneeling beside the water’s edge, she cupped her palms and brought the cool contents to her face.

She splashed it against her cheeks, forehead, and nose, then breathed in the fresh scent.

The chilly water made her shiver, but she didn’t mind.

She needed to feel something , anything besides grief, guilt, and heartache.

Sitting on a boulder, she watched the stream trickle, having flown from some spring in the mountains. The quiet, harmonious sound of crickets soothed her, and the rising moon cast a silver shine across the stream’s surface.

Peeling back her sleeve, she inspected the blisters on her arm.

They weren’t infected or painful, but she hadn’t given them a chance to heal.

Each time they’d calmed down, more appeared because of her constant use of magic.

Having been on the road for the last week without having to use her golden whip, the red tint and the itchiness had subsided.

She rested her forehead in her hands, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply.

What she would give to have her sister here, safe with her.

What she would give to save Yelena from the fire, and all the innocent people who’d lost their lives in the battles of the past few weeks.

All for Filip’s desperation to rule. She could only thank the gods he’d perished in the fire—he’d certainly paid the price for his crimes.

Grabbing the Sword of Light from its sheath around her waist, she held it between both hands, the moonlight glinting on the metal surface.

“Hey,” Damir said softly as he approached her.

She turned to smile at him over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He rested on the boulder beside her.

“Contemplating the use of this sword,” she muttered. “If I threw it into the ocean right now, would I really, truly miss it? It has been of no use to me so far.”

“You didn’t have a choice but to hand it over to Filip.” Damir drew her against his chest. “Yelena stole it back. You have it. And if you haven’t noticed, it’s a stream, not an ocean.” A hint of humour flickered in his eyes as his smile widened into a grin. One she’d sorely missed.

“You know what I mean. But I guess you’re right.

Yelena ensured our safety and gave it back to me—its creator.

” She traced a finger along the inscription on the sword.

“It never worked for Filip, you know—not in the way he’d hoped.

The sword has a mind of its own. It chooses where its loyalties lie, but it all depends on the wielder’s intentions. ”

“And you always have the best intentions at heart.” With one arm wrapped around her shoulder, he used his free hand to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “You’ll be with your parents soon, and you can mourn your sister together.”

“Some funeral it’ll be,” she said. “Her body was tossed in a pile with everyone else slain in battle. There’ll be a gravestone for her, sure, but she won’t rest in the way she deserves.”

“I know.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “But believe she is at peace.”

The truth was, she couldn’t believe it, but she didn’t have the strength to think about it.

Grateful to have him by her side, she turned, brought both hands up to cup his cheeks, and leaned into him.

Her lips met his, warm and soft at first, then moulding into a more urgent kiss. One they’d been deprived of for months.

His hands were in her hair, cradling her head as her lips parted, and his tongue flicked against hers. A light moan escaped her as his sturdy arms enveloped her. He gripped her hips and lifted her, until she straddled him.

Curls tumbled around her face as their kiss deepened. One of his hands slipped up the back of her shirt, pressing against her bare skin, pulling her closer to him.

She rested her forehead against his, and she breathed deeply against him. “As much as I want you, we can’t. Not here.”

“Why not?” He grinned as he carried her over to a patch of flat stones. With an arm propped either side of her face, he lay on top of her. “The tall grass shields us from Natasha.”

“She may not be able to see us, but she will sure as hell hear us.” She laughed.

“God, I’ve missed your laugh.” His eyes burned with desire.

“I love you, Damir. So much.” A fire heated in her cheeks and in her core.

She hadn’t noticed her hand bunching the front of his shirt, unwilling to let go.

His mouth was on hers again, then he buried his head in her neck and kissed her there. Gasping, she tilted her chin upwards, eyes closed, encouraging him.

She weaved her hands through his hair as he worked on removing her clothes. A faint clicking sound caught her attention, and her eyes flashed open.

“Damir,” she whispered. “Look.”

He rolled off her, but kept an arm wrapped around her.

Fireflies. Lots of them. They cast a bright yellow glow over the stream, a vibrant contrast to the rising moon.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, and a sudden lump formed in her throat. She didn’t know why, but the innocence of the fireflies reminded her of her sister. “She’s truly gone.”

He pressed her head against his chest and smoothed her hair. “She’d be so proud of you.”

She couldn’t find the words to speak again. Instead, she held onto him and thought of Tihana and Yelena.