Daryn kept my contract himself even when I'm certain he knew Valas wanted me. Even when the attraction between us was obvious enough that servants whispered about it, when Daryn watched us with a knowing smile, when every sign pointed to a transaction that would have been simple and legal and completely acceptable by dark elven standards.
Instead, Daryn held onto the contract. Protected me in his own way by keeping that power out of Valas's hands, ensuring that whatever developed between us happened because I wanted it, not because I was obligated. He never forced either of us.
And then he left it to Valas anyway. Put that power into the hands of the one elf who's spent eight months proving he won't use it. Begged me to understand.
It shouldn't matter who holds the contract. The law is the law—I'm still owned, still bound, still subject to the whims of whoever possesses that piece of parchment declaring me property instead of person.
But somehow it does matter. Because the elf holding my contract now is the same one who calls me starlight and brings me enchanted gloves to keep my hands warm and refuses to cross lines I haven't explicitly invited him to cross.
The same one who looked at me in the kitchen yesterday with such raw vulnerability in those moon-violet eyes and promised he only wants what I choose to give him.
I believe him. That's the terrifying part. I actually believe he means it.
But belief and surrender aren't the same thing. I can believe Valas won't hurt me while still keeping my walls firmly in place,still protecting the parts of myself I've learned to guard because letting anyone close has always meant getting hurt eventually.
I don't want to get hurt. Don't want to give him everything I am only to watch him change his mind, grow bored, decide this human isn't worth the effort after all. Don't want to wake up one day and realize the fairy tale was just that—a story I told myself to make captivity feel like choice.
The carriage hits a rut in the road and Amisra makes a small sound, burrowing deeper against Valas's side. He adjusts his hold on her automatically, one hand coming up to stroke her silver-white hair with such gentleness it makes my throat tight.
He'll be a good father to her. I know this with absolute certainty. Whatever happens between us—whether I find the courage to tear down my last defenses or keep them standing until they fossilize into permanent walls—Valas will love Amisra the way Daryn wanted. Will give her stability and protection and all the terrible jokes a child could possibly endure.
The thought should comfort me. Instead it makes the ache in my chest sharper, because I want to be part of that. Want to help raise her, watch her grow, build something like a family in the ruins of grief.
But that means risking everything. Means trusting not just Valas but myself, my judgment, my ability to survive if this all falls apart.
I don't know if I'm brave enough for that.
The carriage slows and I tear my gaze from Valas to look out the window again. We've climbed into proper foothills now, the landscape growing wilder and more remote. I can see cabins scattered through the area—small retreats tucked into groves of trees, smoke rising from chimneys despite the threatening weather.
Our destination sits apart from the others. A single structure at the bottom of a mountain, isolated in a clearing with no treesnearby to offer shelter. It's smaller than I expected, built of weathered stone and dark wood that makes it look like it grew from the earth rather than being constructed on it.
The sky overhead has gone nearly black with the weight of the approaching storm. Wind whips through the clearing, sending dust and dried leaves skittering across the ground in frantic spirals.
"We're here, little bird." Valas's voice is soft, careful not to startle Amisra from her half-doze. "Ready to see our adventure spot?"
She lifts her head, blinking sleep from her eyes as she peers out the window. I watch her take in the cabin, the wild landscape, the dramatic sky pressing down like a threat.
"It looks scary," she whispers.
"A little," Valas agrees, and I appreciate that he doesn't lie to her. "But scary can also be exciting. And we'll be safe inside together. All three of us."
The carriage stops and Valas helps Amisra down before turning to offer me his hand. I take it without thinking, letting his fingers close around mine as I step onto ground that feels less stable than it should.
Thunder rumbles in the distance. A warning of what's coming.
Valas gathers our bags while I usher Amisra toward the cabin door, my hand on her shoulder as wind tries to steal her away. The first fat drops of rain begin to fall just as we make it inside, splattering against stone and wood with increasing urgency.
The cabin's interior is simple but well-kept. A main room with a fireplace and comfortable furniture, a small kitchen area, two doors that presumably lead to sleeping quarters. Everything is clean and orderly, clearly maintained even if it hasn't been used recently.
Valas comes in behind us, dropping our bags near the door before moving to light the hearth. His magic flares violet-bright, coaxing flames to life with barely more than a thought. The sudden warmth and light push back against the gloom seeping in through the windows.
"There." He brushes his hands together, turning to smile at Amisra with an expression that doesn't quite hide his exhaustion. "Much better, yes?"
She nods, moving closer to the fire but keeping her stuffed lunox clutched tight. Outside, the storm breaks in earnest—rain turning from scattered drops to a deluge that hammers against the roof like it's trying to beat its way inside.
Lightning flashes, turning the world beyond the windows into stark white and shadow. Thunder follows seconds later, loud enough to rattle the walls.
Amisra flinches and I'm beside her immediately, kneeling to pull her into my arms. "It's alright, Ami. Just noise. The storm can't hurt us in here."
