I felt safe.
Because of him.
Wolfe.
I'd treasure today and everything that came with it. The path to my forever started with Wolfe Nightblade. And I wanted my life to be with him.
Always.
He’d made me fall in love with him again.
Chapter 47
Elariya
“The Connection Within”
“My dearest Elariya, if you're reading this, then I've lost you, but I hope with these words, your heart will remember me…”
My fingers traced the elegant script, following each loop and curve of ink as though I could absorb the words through touch alone. Wolfe’s journal lay open in my lap, the worn leather soft beneath my palms, its pages filled with his careful handwriting.
I had only just begun reading. It was the early hours of the morning—we hadn’t long returned home.
Wolfe had business to attend to, so while he went out with the Bloodsworn, I claimed a chair by the window and opened his journal.
As I read, I could hear his voice in my head. Low. Steady. Like he was sitting beside me instead of miles away. Every word on these pages carried the weight of him—the essence of who he was when no one else was watching.
The realization settled over me, illuminating everything I’d been too scared to see. And now I was holding proof of it in my hands.
I read for the next few hours, absorbing every moment Wolfe had held sacred—the day he first met me, the day he first kissed me, the day he realized he was in love with me.
The sun rose, the morning light growing stronger, and I hadn’t even reached halfway through the journal. There was still so much left to uncover. Arielle would be along soon to fetch me—we were meant to go to Hyxian today.
But I couldn’t pull myself away from Wolfe’s words. So I kept reading, telling myself it would only be until it was time to get dressed.
You were angry with me the day you first flew Hedion.
You thought I was furious because you had flown him without permission. You thought I was lecturing you about recklessness and strategy—like I cared more about the ring than you.
But I was never angry about any of those things.
I was angry because I couldn’t tell you how terrified I was.
You, a half-human, half-mage, flew a dragon. It was a wonderful achievement, but all I could see were a thousand ways it could have ended wrong. A misstep. A wingbeat at the wrong angle. A shock of fear. I have seen warriors fall from less.
Being furious with you was easier than telling you the truth.
The truth was that if you had fallen from that sky, it would have killed me too.
I have lost enough in this lifetime. I will not lose you to pride or inexperience or fate’s cruelty. If that makes me overbearing, then so be it.
I would rather you hate me for caution than never see you again…
My heart squeezed, and I paused, letting the words settle. I remembered my own journal entry from that day—the day that seemed to shift everything between us, nudging us toward where we stood now.
It was comforting to read these intimate truths about Wolfe, but what I truly longed for were the memories themselves.
I wanted to remember us and all the things he’d written about—the happiness, the anger, the rage, the love. All of it. I wanted to feel it, not just imagine it from the words on a page.
