"You looked like you needed saving." His voice matches the rest of him—controlled, quiet, but with weight behind every word.
"I did." My own voice comes out steadier than I expect. "Thank you."
He inclines his head, a small gesture of acknowledgment. His hands have left my shoulders, but he's still close enough that I can smell him—leather and something clean, like wind off the mountains. Nothing cloying or sweet. Just… solid.
I should walk away. Thank him again and disappear back into the crowd before he realizes I'm human, before he decides I'm not worth the effort of protecting. But I don't move. Can't. Because standing here, looking up at him, I feel something I haven't felt in years.
Safe.
"I didn't—" I hesitate, then push forward because I need to know. "What did he mean? About everyone being here for the same thing?"To find someone to spend the night with.
His brows draw together, visible even through the mask. "You don't know what the Moon Masquerade is for?"
Heat crawls up my neck. "I know it's a festival. For… for Solas and the moon and?—"
"For soulbinding." He says it flat, like he's explaining something obvious to a child. "All the xaphan are here to find the other half of their soul. Or some shit like that."
I blink at him. Then a laugh bubbles up before I can stop it—short and sharp and entirely inappropriate given the situation. But the way he said it, so dismissive and almost irritated, catches me off guard.
His lips quirk. Just a fraction, barely visible, but it's there.
"You're not eager to be here," I say, still fighting the urge to laugh again.
"My sister dragged me." He crosses his arms over his chest, and I notice the way his wings shift with the movement, settling tighter against his back. "She's convinced I'm going to die alone if I don't at least try. I promised to stay for an hour."
One hour. That's all he's giving this festival, this night full of magic and possibility. A night that I've risked everything just tosee. And somehow, knowing that makes him feel more real. Less untouchable.
I shouldn't. Every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to thank him again and leave, to find Mira's zarryn and ride back before I do something stupid. But I'm so tired of listening to that voice, the one that keeps me small and silent and safe from Darian's fists. And not even that.
Just one night. That's all I have. And standing here with this stranger who saved me without asking for anything in return, I want to spend it with him.
"Maybe we can make that hour count," I hear myself say.
His eyes flicker with something I can't name. Surprise, maybe. Or interest. The corner of his mouth lifts a fraction more, not quite a smile but close enough that warmth blooms in my chest.
"I'd like that."
3
LORENTH
Ican't tear my eyes away from her.
She's staring at the fire dancers, her masked face tilted up to catch the spiraling flames, and there's something in her posture that makes my chest tighten. Wonder. Pure, unfiltered wonder, like she's never seen anything like this before. Like the world just opened up and showed her something worth believing in.
Maybe she hasn't. Maybe this is all new to her.
The thought lodges somewhere behind my ribs and refuses to budge.
I didn't expect to find anyone here worth spending time with. Lora dragged me to this festival with promises and threats in equal measure, convinced that if I just tried, if I just gave the gods a chance, I'd find what she's always believed was waiting for me. My other half. My soulbond. All that romantic bullshit the Nashai preach about two souls recognizing each other across time and space.
I came because I promised her. Because she's the only family I have left, and I owe her more than I can ever repay. But I didn't believe. Don't believe. Not in fate or destiny or any of it.
And yet.
This woman in her silver mask, with her storm-gray eyes and the way her lips part when she watches the flames dance—she makes me want to believe. Or at least makes me want to stay longer than the hour I promised Lora.
The music shifts, strings swelling into something slower, richer. Bodies around us move in pairs, swaying to the rhythm, and I see the exact moment she notices. Her attention pulls from the fire dancers to the couples moving together, silk brushing against silk, wings folding close to allow their partners in.
