I cup her face with hands that have crushed mountains and raised fortresses and still tremble for her.
“You did this,” I rasp, voice breaking on the truth. “You anchored me.”
Her mouth curves, shaky and brave.
“No,” she whispers. “We did. All of us.”
The bond hums—steady, deep, unbreakable.
And as the ash settles and the realm exhales like it’s been holding its breath for centuries, I know one thing with brutal clarity:
Nightfall’s last scare was Idris.
What comes next—repairs, rebuilding, grieving—we will face.
But first?
I must bring my viyella home.
A marrow deep need to reassure myself she is whole, safe, mine burns inside of me.
And I know, I know, it will not go away until I have her once more, in my arms, in our bed, in me.
Mine.
Mate.
Chapter 29
Alina
After The Battle, The Barrow
I’m still buzzing when we leave the council hall.
Not the jittery kind of buzz I get after too much coffee and a deadline—this is different.
This is… aftermath.
The way your body keeps expecting impact after the car has already stopped. Relief still rushing through my veins like it doesn’t trust peace to last.
The Barrow’s corridors feel warmer now.
Less like a fortress bracing for siege, more like a home that finally unclenched.
Roots line the walls in delicate ridges, humming softly as we pass, and I swear the stone itself is breathing easier.
Even the air tastes cleaner—less metallic, less sharp—like the realm stopped bleeding in its sleep.
We end up on a terrace cut into the cliff face, high enough that the terraced fields below look like dark green velvet stitched into the earth.
Farther out, the Marches roll in waves of shadow and low magic.
Glowing sap glints in the trees like lanterns hung by patient hands.
Somewhere down in the quarries, hammers ring—steady, purposeful.
Rebuild sounds like that.
