I rest my forehead against hers for a beat, letting her steadiness sink into my bones.
“I will move mountains to obey, Oona,” I vow. “And if Stone’s Edge falls, it will not be because Dagan, Lord of Earth, stayed his hand.”
She swallows. “Take care of Masielle. Dreamwright or not, she’s our neighbor. Our friend. Someone’s family.”
“Someone’s hope,” I add quietly.
“Exactly.”
I step back before I change my mind and lock us both underground until the world ends.
At the doorway, I pause and look back one last time.
She stands framed by the window, Glowworm light painting her in soft gold, hand resting on the stone sill like it belongs there.
She does.
She belongs in my hall.
In my land.
In my life.
She belongs with me.
“Alina,” I say.
She lifts her chin. “Yeah?”
“I feel the tremors less when you touch me,” I tell her. “Remember that. When the ground shakes—your presence steadies it. You are not just in Nightfall now. You are part of what holds it together.”
Color rushes to her cheeks.
“Then you’d better hurry up and come back so I can keep doing my job.”
A grim smile pulls at my lips.
“As you command.”
The Marches rumble below, impatient.
The SoulTakers are already at Stone’s Edge.
I turn away from my viyella and stride toward the war waiting in the bones of my realm, every step a promise.
To Masielle.
To my brothers.
To the countless worlds that sleep and dream, never knowing how close they came to losing both.
And most of all—to the woman in the window, who asked me to come back and made it sound like a certainty instead of a wish.
I will not let Nightfall crack.
Not while there is still stone to shape.
Not while there is still one heartbeat in my chest echoing hers.
