“And if the world decides it doesn’t want us anywhere?”
The question carries quiet vulnerability. I step closer.
“Then we will make our own place in it.”
Her gaze searches mine.
“You really mean that.”
“Yes.”
Her voice lowers.
“Even if I lose control again?”
I shake my head.
“You won’t.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I know you.”
Silence stretches between us. Then she whispers something that makes the entire world feel smaller.
“I love you.”
The words are quiet. Certain. The bond ignites with warmth rather than fire. For the first time in my existence, the declaration of love does not feel like a weakness mortals cling to in desperate moments.
It feels like truth.
“I love you too,” I say.
Her breath catches softly. Then she smiles.
The small inn room feels suddenly warmer, the candlelight flickering softly against the walls as the quiet weight of her words settles between us. The echo of them lingering in her chest, steady and unafraid now, no longer tangled with uncertainty or fear.
Love.
A word that once meant nothing to a creature like me now pulses through the connection between us like a second heartbeat.
Elowen watches me carefully, as though measuring my reaction, and when I step closer the distance between us disappears entirely.
Her lips curve slightly. “You said it back.”
“That seemed appropriate.”
“That’s not exactly poetic.”
“I am a demon,” I remind her calmly. “Poetry is not traditionally part of our reputation.”
She laughs softly, the sound warm and unguarded. The bond brightens in response. Then her hand lifts slowly and rests against my chest. Right over the sigil. The mark warms beneath her palm immediately. Her expression shifts slightly as she feels it respond.
“It really does answer me now,” she whispers.
“Yes.”
Her thumb traces lightly across the glowing lines of the mark, curiosity and quiet wonder softening her features.
