She made a small sound, something between a laugh and a sob, and leaned into me, her head coming to rest on my shoulder. I wrapped my wing around her fully, cocooning her in warmth. Outside, the storm screamed its fury, but inside, we were safe. Together.
"You're a good leader, Ellie."
She stiffened slightly against me, pulling back just enough to look up at my face. "What?"
"I've watched you," I said simply. Not long—I'd been with her only two weeks before her date with Declan—but it had been enough to take her measure. "You fight for people who can't fight for themselves. You don't just talk about change, you do the grinding, unglamorous work to make it happen. That's not someone running from grief. That's someone who knows what loss feels like and refuses to let others suffer the same way if she can prevent it."
She was quiet for a moment, her fingers curling into my forearms. "I'm still angry sometimes," she whispered. "At Dalton. At the universe. At myself."
"Good." I pressed my forehead to hers. "It means you loved him. It means losing him mattered."
A tear slipped down her cheek, and I caught it with my thumb. "Thank you," she breathed. "For seeing me. Not the president. Just... me. Ellie."
"I'll always see you, Ellie. Always."
She reached up then, cupping my face with both hands, and pulled my mouth to hers. The kiss was soft at first, gentle—a thank you, an acknowledgment, a bridge between grief remembered and the present we inhabited together. Her lips were warm, tasting faintly of salt and rosemary, and I let myself sink into it, into her, savoring the sweetness of this moment.
My hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as I deepened the kiss just slightly, enough to feel her breath catch, to hear that small sound she made in the back of her throat. When we finally broke apart, it was only by inches, our foreheads still touching, breathing the same air.
"I could stay here forever," she murmured, her eyes closed. "Just you and me and this cabin and the storm outside. No decisions to make. No world to save. Just... this."
I felt the longing in her words, understood the weight behind them. But then her expression shifted, a shadow crossing her features even as my lips brushed hers once more.
"But I can't stop thinking about it," she said, pulling back far enough to meet my eyes. The worry was there now, sharp and clear. "About what Declan's doing. What he's saying in my voice, what decisions he's making with my face. What kind of mess is he creating that I'm going to have to clean up? What if he..." She stopped, swallowing hard. "What if he does something I can't undo? What if he starts a war, or signs something terrible into law, or..."
"Ellie." I caught her chin gently, bringing her gaze back to mine. "We'll fix it. Whatever he's done, whatever damage he's caused, we'll fix it."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because you're brilliant and stubborn and you don't give up on things that matter." I traced my thumb along her jaw. "And because you won't be alone."
Her eyes searched mine, looking for certainty, for reassurance.
"No matter what," I said, my voice steady and sure. "No matter what he's done or what we have to face, I'm with you, Ellie." My wing tightened around her shoulders, punctuating the promise. "You're not alone anymore."
A shuddering breath left her, and some of the tension drained from her frame. "You promise?"
"I promise." I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her cheek, then found her lips again. "On my honor. On my life. On everything I am. I'm with you, Ellie."
She melted into me then, her arms winding around my neck. This kiss was different—deeper, more desperate, filled with gratitude and need and something that felt dangerously close to forever.
"I want you so much," I growled, my voice rough with desire. My hands found her waist, fingers trembling as I pulled her against me. The heat of her body seared through the fabric of her clothes, igniting every nerve ending where we touched.
Her fingers tangled in my hair as our lips crashed together in a kiss that was more collision than caress. I moved my mouth against hers with a desperation I couldn't control. She tasted like sweetness and spice, and I couldn't get enough. Outside the cabin, wind howled through the pines and snow lashed against the windows, mimicking the storm growing between us.
My hands roamed her body, sliding down the curve of her hips, then back up to cup her face as I deepened the kiss. "You're driving me crazy," I murmured against her lips, my thumb tracing her jawline with a tenderness that contrasted with the desperate hunger I felt.
She pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, her chest heaving. "Then stop talking," she whispered, and pulled me back to her.
I stood, lifting Ellie easily, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist as I carried her across the room. She was light in my arms, but the weight of desire pressed against me with every step. Her lips never left mine, kissing me with an urgency that matched my own as I navigated toward the bed. The storm outside intensified, rattling the windowpanes, but all I heard was the soft sound of her breathing and the thundering of my own heartbeat.
When we reached the bed, I lowered her gently onto the quilted surface, following her down without breaking our kiss. The old mattress creaked beneath us, and Ellie's hair fanned out across the pillow like spilled silk. I braced myself above her, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips.
"Rickon," she breathed, my name a prayer on her lips that sent a shiver down my spine.
My chest heaved with the effort of restraint, every fiber of my being screaming at me to continue, but I needed to hear it from her lips. I needed to know this was what she truly wanted.
"Ellie," I said, my voice rough with restraint. "Are you sure?"
