Page 66 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

Saying goodbye to Aidon and Liam in the early hours before dawn left a pit of dread yawning open in Aya’s stomach. She wasn’t sure if it was some omen she should be listening to, or simply the wariness of war weighing on her.

Either way, she owed them her life, and parting with them just hours after reuniting felt like another cruelty of fate.

“Please be careful,” she murmured to Aidon as she hugged him tightly. She closed her eyes, his familiar warmth surrounding her. His baritone voice rumbled against her as he chuckled.

“This from the woman who nearly brought down a building on top of herself,” he teased. But his eyes were wet as he pulled back, and he squeezed her shoulders, as if he couldn’t yet bear to let go.

“You are more than a saint to me. You know that, don’t you?” he asked with a small frown.

Aya laid a palm against his chest, right over his heart. “I do. Because you are more than a king to me.” She tapped his chest once. “But that does not change that Trahir needs their ruler.”

Just as it did not change that the realm needed their Second Saint to see a prophecy fulfilled. That silent truth hung in the air between them, heavy and unrelenting. Aidon broke the tension it stirred with a vow.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised.

Aya nodded. “Thank you for keeping him alive,” she said, glancing to where Will was saying his goodbyes to Dauphine as he readied their horse.

Aidon flashed her a grin. “I would say it was my pleasure, but you know how Will can be.” He looked to where Tyr was standing at Aya’s side. Her bonded hadn’t let her out of his sight since they’d reunited yesterday.

Aidon patted his head, as if the two had come to some sort of understanding while traveling together, and he gave Aya’s shoulder a final squeeze before he departed with Cole.

Aya watched him go for a moment before she strolled over to where Liam was readying his and Dauphine’s horse.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back with us?”

“Oh I absolutely want to,” Liam corrected as he tightened the saddle. “But I need to see this through in the Midlands. We need as many soldiers as we can get, and Nyra needs the truth of what transpired in Dunmeaden from someone who experienced it firsthand.”

Aya wrapped her arms around herself as she nodded in understanding.

“Liam…” she started, but the words died in her throat as she realized she had no idea how to possibly begin to apologize for all he had suffered.

I’m sorry I brought Evie back , she wanted to say. I’m sorry she killed Lena. I’m sorry I didn’t realize what Gianna was doing until it was too late.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Liam cleared his throat against the wounded noise that tried to escape as he folded her into his arms.

“I do not hold you responsible,” he rumbled.

Aya wasn’t sure she could say the same. But she hugged him back as tightly as she could, her forehead pressing against his shoulder.

“Thank you for fighting for me,” she whispered. “Now, and before.”

It had been Liam, after all, who had willingly helped her take on Mathias Denier. Just as it had been Liam who had found her in Will’s room when she thought him dead in Milsaio; Liam who had refused to let her grieve alone, refused to let her get lost in the darkness of her own mind.

“By my blood,” Liam swore, his broad hand rubbing a soothing circle between her shoulder blades. He pulled back, determination written in his gaze. “The Dyminara may be no more, but our oaths to each other live on. You are and will always be my family.”

Aya blinked away the burning in her eyes as she nodded. “And you, mine.”

Will was right—a true oath did not reside in a scar or mark. It lived in the heart, where it was nourished and honored regardless of distance or time or circumstance.

Liam said his goodbyes to Will, and then he mounted his horse behind Dauphine and whistled for Azul. His bonded stretched languidly before falling into step beside them.

And then they were gone, too.

A gentle breeze blew through the plains, rustling the tall grass and sending goose bumps prickling across Aya’s skin. Will wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side as they took a moment to appreciate the silence.

She tucked her head into that space carved just for her, fighting against the way her mind wanted to tug her back into a false memory of them on the Wall in a different life.

One where Will was happy and Aya was…

Nothing.

Will’s lips pressed against her temple, warm and steady and real.

“Are you ready, my love?” he asked against her skin.

She sucked in a long breath, her chest aching with the fullness of it, and allowed herself one more moment of taking in the rolling hills bathed in the soft light of dawn.

She tried to will the exhaustion that seemed to drag her bones down toward the earth to part with her exhale.

“I’m ready,” she said, turning into Will and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

And she meant it. She was tired, and bruised, and hollowed out…but she wasn’t alone. And that was enough for now.