At first—silent. Then deeper. Ragged. Unstoppable.
Tears begin to fall. I feel the wet drops on our hands and I hold tighter. Because he will never carry this alone again. Not while I have a breath left in me.
I rise slowly, never letting go of his hands. I ease into his lap, sideways, my legs draped across his. My body curves gently against his.
His arms come around me instantly. Tight. Desperate. His face buries in my chest, and the sobs tear loose—harder now. Shuddering through him like aftershocks from a quake too long held back.
I don’t say anything. Because there’s nothing I could say that would matter more than this. I just hold him.
One arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other cradlingthe back of his head. My throat burns. My hands shake as I thread them through his hair, steadying us both. Gods, if I let myself, I’d break right here with him.
He trembles beneath me. years of weight finally breaking loose. All that he’s been holding in—his mother, his brother, his father, the realm,me.
All of it—falling.
And I hold him through it. Not as the Spiritborn. Not as a warrior. Just me. Justhis.
I press my cheek to the top of his head, my fingers still threading gently through his hair. The bond pulses—warm now. Solid. Like a blanket settling around my shoulders. A quiet promise, woven through the pulse:I’ve got you.
And I know Thane feels it too. His breathing is slowing. His grip loosens—not letting go, but no longer clinging like he might fall apart.
I press one more kiss to the crown of his head, then glance up.
Valen is watching us. His eyes shine with tears, though none fall. His jaw is tight, working through something too big for words.
And then it hits me—he’s never seen Thane like this.The Warlord stripped bare, weeping in someone’s arms.In mine.
And it’s wrecking him.
I see it in the way he blinks too slowly, in the way his jaw tenses again. Like the weight of this moment is pressing intohim, too.
But there’s something else, too. A quiet approval in his expression. A softening beneath the grief. Like he’s been waiting for this—for Thane tolet himself feel,tolet himself be held—for a very long time.
Then Valen’s mouth drops open. I stare at him, stunned, because I have never seen my mentor look surprised by anything. He doesn’t say anything, just points above me withwide eyes.
I look up and above my head are droplets of water floating and sparkling, scattering the sunlight into shards of color across the bookshelves—like the room itself is weeping light. And all I can think as I stare at them in wonder is they are like tears waiting to fall. My magics again have responded to my emotions.
The bond thrums, steady and low, as if it too recognizes the release. The droplets shiver in the air at the same rhythm, suspended between us like proof.
Thane’s eyes flick upward, catching the glow of droplets suspended over us. His breath hitches—just once—like the sight of it undoes him all over again. I brush my fingers across his cheek, wiping the tears away. With a thought, I disappear the droplets.
Thane’s eyes lower to meet my gaze as his breathing begins to settle. The tremors ease. His arms loosen not in retreat, but in relief. He pulls back slightly. Just enough to lift his head and swipe a hand across his face.
The gesture is clumsy. Almost boyish. And it breaks something open in my chest—something gentle and full of ache.
“Shit,” he breathes out, half-laugh, half-sigh.
His voice is raw. Like he’s still trying to find it again.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, glancing up at me. “I didn’t realize all of that was . . . wound so tight. Like a giant knot.”
I still don’t have the words. Not for all that he’s said. Not for all he’s let fall from his shoulders. So I just smile—softly, gently—and let my fingers drift through his hair again. Slow and steady.
I’m here,it says.I’m not leaving.
Thane shifts, reaching across my lap to lift the glass from the table. He tilts his head and drains it in one long swallow. Then exhales hard through his mouth—a breath that sounds like it’s been waiting years to escape. He sets the empty glass back down with a soft clink.
I shift, starting to rise. But his arms tighten around me. I look down at him. And his eyes—unguarded, raw—silently ask me to stay.
