"You're everything I didn't know I was allowed to want again." His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "And I was toomuch of a coward to say it yesterday. Too afraid that admitting how much you matter would somehow make it hurt worse when you left."
"I'm not leaving." The words came out fierce, certain. "Not unless you want me gone."
"I don't want you gone. I want—" He stopped, jaw working. "I want you to stay. Want to wake up next to you without worrying it'll be the last time. To build something that isn't based on fear or duty or Council assignments."
"What is it based on then?"
"This." He leaned closer. "Us. Whatever we are together. Whatever we can be if we stop letting fear make our choices."
Maren's hands found his face, feeling the scratch of stubble, the warmth of skin that had been frozen solid yesterday. "I love you. Not because you saved me. Not because we destroyed the locket together. But because you saw me at my worst and decided I was worth defending anyway."
"I love you too." The words came out rough, like he'd been holding them back for days.
She kissed him.
Soft at first, testing, giving him a chance to pull back. He didn't. His hands came up to cradle her face, careful of her injuries, and the kiss deepened.
Her shadows encircled them, no longer agitated or defensive. Just present. Accepting.
Maren was breathing hard when they finally took a breath, her ribs aching but not caring. "Stay. Please. I know it's fast and probably stupid and we should take time to figure things out but…"
"Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, I'll stay." Tristan's smile was small but genuine. "On one condition."
"Which is?"
"No more running. From me, from the town, from whatever comes next." His forehead pressed against hers. "We face it together or not at all."
"Deal." She kissed him again, softer this time.
Snow had started falling outside the window, light flakes drifting past like stars in daylight. The cottage was warming, fire chasing away cold that had settled during her absence. Her shadows curled contentedly around the furniture, no longer searching for threats.
Tristan pulled her carefully against his chest, mindful of her ribs, and held her like she was something precious.
Maren closed her eyes and let herself want without apologizing. Let herself have this one thing that fear had tried to steal.
Tomorrow would bring challenges. The town's wary acceptance wouldn't last without work. Her reputation would take time to rebuild. The Council would want statements and reports and assurances that no more cursed relics waited in hidden places.
But today, she had this. Had him. It was enough.
More than enough.
It was everything.
36
TRISTAN
Snow fell steady outside Tristan's cabin as evening settled into full dark.
A week had passed since destroying the locket. Seven days of healing, of careful touches that didn't push too far, of sleeping beside each other and waking tangled together. Maren's ribs had mended with help from Freya's herbs and her own shadow magic knitting bone and tissue faster than normal. The wounds on her side had closed to pink scars that would fade with time.
She was whole again. Strong again.
And Tristan's restraint had finally reached its limit.
