Saela's hand finds mine, squeezing with gratitude and understanding that makes my chest tight with emotion I'm not ready to examine too closely. "We'll figure out something else. Somewhere safe."
The implied trust in her words, the way she automatically includes me in plans for an undefined future, makes promises I'm not sure I should voice aloud. But standing in winterdarkness with a woman I love and friend she'd risk everything to save, I find myself willing to offer whatever safety I can provide, for as long as they'll accept it.
"Come on," I say, adjusting my grip on Ressa with care for her injuries. "Let's find somewhere warm to spend the night. Everything else can wait until morning."
19
SAELA
The makeshift camp Falla chose sits tucked beneath an overhang of granite that shields us from the worst of the wind. Ressa drifts in and out of consciousness on the bedroll we fashioned from our cloaks, her breathing steady enough that Falla pronounces her stable for now. The herbs he gave her for pain have left her floating in dreamless sleep that's probably merciful given what she's endured.
"We need more firewood," Kai says, eyes scanning our meager pile of kindling. "And water. That stream we crossed?—"
"I'll help." The words leave my mouth before I fully think them through, driven by restless energy that has nothing to do with practical concerns and everything to do with the way his presence grounds me even in this wilderness.
Ursik looks up from where he's cleaning his weapons with methodical precision. "Someone should stay with?—"
"I've got her," Falla interrupts, settling himself against the rock wall with his healer's bag within easy reach. "Between the herbs and exhaustion, she won't wake for hours. Go. Both of you. But don't wander far."
The concern in his voice carries the weight of recent experience—we're still too close to Stonevein territory for comfort, still vulnerable despite our successful escape. But something in my chest pulls tight at the thought of staying here in this cramped space, surrounded by evidence of violence and rescue, when what I really need is a few minutes alone with the man who risked everything to find me.
Kai studies my face with those ice-blue eyes that see too much, and whatever he finds there makes him nod once. "Stay close to me," he says, the words carrying layers of meaning that have nothing to do with tactical safety.
The forest feels different in winter darkness, sounds muffled by snow that crunches beneath our boots as we make our way toward the distant sound of running water. Kai moves ahead of me with natural grace that speaks to years of navigating terrain like this, but he keeps glancing back to ensure I'm following, protective instincts engaged despite the relative quiet around us.
When we reach the stream, I kneel beside the dark water and focus on filling our waterskins with hands that shake slightly from cold and adrenaline and something deeper that I'm not ready to examine too closely. The silence between us feels heavy with unspoken thoughts, questions that have been building since the moment he appeared in that stone corridor like an answer to prayers I didn't know I was saying.
"Saela." His voice carries careful neutrality that tells me he's weighing words before speaking them. "About what happened back there?—"
"I thought of nothing but you."
The confession tumbles out before I can stop it, raw and honest in a way that makes my cheeks burn with embarrassment and terror. But now that the words are spoken, I can't take them back, can't pretend they don't represent truth that's beenclawing at my insides since the moment those cell walls closed around me.
Kai goes completely still beside the water, his massive frame frozen in a position that speaks to shock rather than fear. When he finally turns to face me, his expression holds careful control that doesn't quite hide the hope flickering in those pale eyes.
"The entire time I was in that place," I continue, forcing myself to meet his gaze despite the vulnerability that makes my skin feel stripped raw, "all I could think about was how much I regretted holding back. How I'd wasted time being afraid when I should have been letting you in."
Something shifts in his expression, warmth bleeding through the careful neutrality as he moves closer with deliberate steps that don't quite qualify as stalking but make my pulse quicken anyway. "You've been through too much," he says, voice rough with emotion he's trying to keep leashed. "I don't want to push you when you're?—"
"Stop." I rise to my feet and turn to face him fully, needing him to understand what I'm trying to tell him before my courage fails completely. "Stop protecting me from this. From you. From what I want."
The words hang between us in winter air that suddenly feels charged with possibility and terror and desperate need that makes my hands shake as I reach for something I've never been brave enough to claim before.
"I love you."
The confession hits the space, making him rock back on his heels as if the words carry actual weight. For a heartbeat that stretches into eternity, he just stares at me with an expression that cycles through disbelief and wonder and something so achingly tender it makes my chest tight with emotion I can barely contain.
"Saela," he breathes, my name carrying reverence that makes tears threaten behind my eyes. "I?—"
"I know you didn't ask for this," I rush on, needing to get it all out before fear makes me retreat again. "I know the ritual was forced on you, that you never wanted?—"
"I would defy every tradition if you asked me to." His voice cuts through my rambling with conviction so absolute it stops my breath completely. "Every rule, every expectation, every damn thing the clan believes about fate and gods and ritual. If you wanted me to walk away from all of it, I would."
The raw honesty in his words makes something crack open in my chest, flooding me with warmth that has nothing to do with the nearby fire and everything to do with the way he's looking at me like I'm something precious rather than a burden forced upon him by circumstances beyond either of our control.
"I've never loved anyone before," he continues, stepping closer until I can feel the heat radiating from his massive frame. "But I think I might have fallen for you that first night if I hadn't been so stubborn about fighting what was happening between us."
My breath catches in my throat, caught between laughter and tears at the admission that mirrors my own experience so perfectly. "I don't want you to defy anything," I tell him, reaching up to touch his face with trembling fingers that map the sharp angles of his cheekbones. "I want to bond with you. Properly. By choice, not because some ritual decided for us."
