“Tomorrow, you’ll show packs how to weave lattice echoes along their borders.”
“And you’ll train oracles to listen without bleeding.”
“We have work.” Her smile curves, mischievous. “But first, you promised rest.”
I laugh—a deep, healed sound—and sling an arm over her shoulders. “Sunrise at sanctum balcony, then sleep until second moonrise?”
“Deal.”
We stride out of cavern into tunnel where steam has cooled to warm breath. Wolves fall in behind. No cheers, just shared awe. Far ahead, faint star-light seeps through cracks in stone, guiding way.
Near exit arch, I slow. Carmilla follows gaze as I look back at once-chaos chamber. “We should name this place.”
She considers. “Limenheart.”
“Threshold heart.” I nod. “Fitting.”
We join hands again and step into open air. Feramundi’s sky blushes violet-rose where first hints of dawn push against night. Frosted lava ridges glimmer. Wind carries scent of distant pines despite none growing for leagues—lattice blending aromas of realms.
I breathe deep, let it out slow. “Feels like standing at the beginning of a story, not the end.”
Carmilla leans shoulder to mine. “Let’s make sure this one ends happier than the last set.”
“I have a plan for that.” I nudge her playfully. “Involves a sanctuary, new wards that welcome instead of repel, and long hunts across stitched skies.”
“And perhaps,” she adds, voice soft, “time to learn each other in peace.”
A warmth brighter than magma lights chest. “All the time we want.”
She turns, crystal catching first sliver of dawn, and kisses me without hurry. As our lips meet, I feel lattice hum acknowledgment—guardian pair sealed.
Behind lids, I glimpse tomorrow: cubs born under twined stars, festivals where frost wine pours beside dune-spiced stew, council fires lit in gratitude instead of crisis. Wolves shift to eagles mid-flight, dragons sleep easy while mortals walk below.
We break apart, smiling. I shift partial—just enough wings to carry. “Want a better look?”
Carmilla laughs, steps onto my crossed arms. I lift, wings beating steady. She spreads arms as we rise, hair blowing silver stream behind. Below, Holt’s astonished shout echoes; wolves wave spears triumphantly.
We climb until molten ridges shrink, until dawn’s first ray crests horizon, gilding lattice strands faintly visible even here. Carmilla gasps at sight—real sky stitched in luminous threadwork arching across continents. Dogsled trails of light linking once hostile borders. New world-veins.
I fold wings, holding hover, and speak simply: “Home.”
She rests forehead against mine in agreement.
We glide back to ledge, land with soft thump. In distance, rumble of shifting mountains quiets to contented murmur. The grand tapestry settles yet pulses as though alive, waiting for caretakers to guide.
I wrap cloak around us both as wind cools. “Guardian pair.” The title tastes right.
“Guardian pair,” she echoes.
Together we watch sun climb, scattering blush across lattice until every strand gleams gold. And for once, the dawn keeps its promise.
29
CARMILLA
Moonlight silvers the newest strand of the lattice while I wind along the cliff path toward the terrace pools. Every few steps I pause, bare toes sinking into velvet moss, simply to feel. Sensation—how foolish to forget its wonder. Even through the glassy plates that still hug my throat and shoulder, the night air glides cool and pleasant. Tiny nerves beneath half-stone skin answer, no longer screaming in protest, only whispering temperature and breeze. Relief flutters in my chest like a startled skylark.
Behind me Kylan carries a satchel of fruit and two crystal flasks of glacier wine. He hums low, the tune of pack pups counting stars. When his voice touches the air, glow-motes drift from nearby moonstone boulders, hovering then settling again like shy fireflies. The world itself wants to purr.
