Page 23 of Crowned by the Shadow (Bound by the Veil #5)
And if the time came when a sacrifice was needed, then it would be me, not her. I would take that burden from her shoulders, to be the shield that protected her from the ultimate cost.
She would hate me for it, I knew. Would rage against my choice, would try to stop me. But better her alive and angry than lost to the corruption or sacrificed to cosmic forces beyond our comprehension.
I leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “Rest well,” I whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake.”
Through our bond, I felt her consciousness stir briefly, a flicker of warmth and affection before she slipped deeper into sleep. Even unconscious, she reached for me, our connection a lifeline for us both.
Whatever came next, whatever battles we faced, we would face it together. Not as Eclipse Child and Sun Court warrior, not as fated champions or cosmic pawns, but as Senara and Thorn. Two souls bound by choice as much as destiny.
And in that bond lay our greatest strength, and perhaps, our only hope.
I settled in for my watch, eyes scanning the darkness beyond our camp. The corruption might spread through Senara’s mark, but her heart remained uncorrupted. Her spirit remained unbowed. As long as that was true, we still had a chance.
And I would die before I let that chance slip away.
As dawn approached, painting the eastern sky with pale fingers of light, I found myself still awake, still watching over Senara.
She slept fitfully, occasional tremors running through her body as if she fought battles even in her dreams. Each time, I’d place my hand gently on her shoulder, channeling warmth through our bond until she settled again.
The corruption had spread further overnight, a small but noticeable advance. The dark threads now reached her collarbone, creeping upward with inexorable patience. At this rate, it would reach her face within days.
We were running out of time.
Wyn stirred first, her twilight-touched eyes opening to the new day. She moved with a grace that hadn’t been there before her transformation, shadows and light dancing across her skin as she stretched.
“You didn’t wake me for my watch,” she said quietly, coming to sit beside me.
“I wasn’t tired,” I replied, which wasn’t entirely untrue. My body might have been exhausted, but my mind was too restless for sleep.
Wyn’s gaze fell on Senara, lingering on the corruption threading through her mark. “It’s spreading faster.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “Every time she uses her power, it advances. The transformation you underwent—it took a toll on her.”
“I know.” Guilt flickered across Wyn’s features. “She saved me, and now...”
“She would do it again in a heartbeat,” I said firmly. “Never doubt that.”
Wyn nodded, though the guilt didn’t entirely leave her eyes. “The convergence approaches,” she said after a moment. “I can feel it—the thinning of barriers between realms, the building pressure as cosmic forces align.”
“How long do we have?”
She closed her eyes, concentrating. “Days, if we’re lucky. It’s hard to be precise. The Empress’s influence distorts my perception.”
Not long enough. Not nearly long enough to find a solution to the corruption spreading through Senara’s mark, to understand the artifacts’ true purpose, to rally allies against the coming darkness.
“We need to reach the courts,” I said, thinking aloud. “Make them understand what’s happening. United, we might stand a chance.”
Wyn’s expression turned skeptical. “The courts that declared you traitors? That imprisoned Sebastian for daring to love across court boundaries? That have spent centuries maintaining divisions that serve no purpose but their own power?”
Her words stung because they held the truth. The fae courts had rejected Senara, rejected our bond, rejected the very idea that Moon and Sun could coexist in harmony. Why would they listen now?
“I hate this,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “I hate watching her suffer while I can do nothing.”
Wyn’s twilight eyes softened with understanding. “You do more than you know, Thorn. Your bond sustains her in ways none of us can see, but all of us can feel.”
I wanted to believe that. Needed to believe that my presence made a difference, that our love was strong enough to hold back the darkness. But doubt gnawed at me, persistent and poisonous.
“What if it’s not enough?” The question escaped before I could stop it. “What if I’m not enough?”
Wyn reached out, her hand cool against my arm. Where her fingers touched, I felt a strange balance—neither the warmth of life nor the chill of death, but something in between. Twilight magic, newly born from her transformation.
“Love is never wasted,” she said with quiet certainty. “Even when it cannot save, it sustains. Even when it cannot protect, it comforts. Your bond with Senara may not be enough to defeat the Empress alone, but it gives her strength no artifact could provide.”
Her words eased something tight in my chest. Not completely, the fear and doubt lingered, but it was enough that I could breathe more freely.
“Thank you,” I said simply.
She nodded, withdrawing her hand. “We should wake the others. There’s much to discuss before we decide our next move.”
As Wyn moved to rouse Ronan, I turned back to Senara. Her eyes were already open, watching me with a mixture of affection and concern.
“How long have you been awake?” I asked, wondering how much of my conversation with Wyn she’d overheard.
“Long enough,” she replied, sitting up slowly. She reached for my hand, her fingers threading through mine. “You are enough, Thorn. Never doubt that.”
So she had heard. I should have known. Our bond made it difficult to truly hide anything from each other, especially strong emotions.
“The corruption—” I began, but she cut me off with a gentle squeeze of my hand.
“Is a problem for another moment,” she said firmly. “Right now, we need to focus on our next steps. On finding Van and Volker, on understanding the artifacts, on preparing for the convergence.”
Always thinking of others, always pushing her own pain aside to focus on the greater good. It was one of the things I loved most about her, and one of the things that terrified me most. That selflessness could so easily become self-sacrifice.
“Promise me something,” I said, holding her gaze.
“What?”
“That you won’t face this alone. That you’ll let me help carry the burden, whatever it may be.”
She studied me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. Then she nodded, a small but genuine smile touching her lips.
“I promise,” she said. “Whatever comes next, we face it together.”
It wasn’t everything I wanted. It wasn’t a guarantee of her safety, wasn’t a solution to the corruption threading through her mark, but it was enough for now. A promise that, whatever sacrifices lay ahead, she wouldn’t shut me out.
As we joined the others to discuss our plans, I felt a strange mix of dread and determination. The path ahead was darker than ever, the stakes higher, the odds longer. But we were together, bound by choice and fate, love and necessity.
And in that bond lay our greatest strength, and perhaps, our only hope against the darkness to come.