He stopped, the tension sharp in the air between them, his jaw tight, his wings trembling faintly where sunlight burned at their tips. Val-Theris reached for her, slowly, carefully, his hand trembling faintly as he lifted it toward her cheek. Jesenia didn’t move, didn’t breathe, letting the closeness fill the space between them like a held breath.
His fingertips brushed the curve of her jaw, like he was memorizing the shape of her. For a long, taut moment, they stared at one another, breath mingling, close enough that she could see the flecks of fury and firelight caught in his pale blue irises.
He leaned in, his forehead nearly touching hers, his hand lifting to cradle the back of her neck. The weight of the world narrowed into the heat of his breath against her lips.
Her lips parted, her breath catching. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
For a heartbeat, it seemed he would close the distance. His mouth hovered a whisper from hers, his hand tightening against her neck, his wings drawing in closer as though to seal them away from the world.
But then he pulled back just enough to look at her. His voice shook, but the words were steady. “Val-Oros was wrong. You will not be this kingdom’s undoing.”
Jesenia’s body relaxed, but stiffened once more when he said:
“But I think you will be mine.”
She looked up at him, her cheeks heating with something…vulnerable. “Val-Theris, don’t say such things.”
“I know,” he said, ragged, “They would never forgive us.”
They stood there, trembling, on the edge of surrender. But when footsteps echoed behind them, the spell shattered, and Val-Theris tore himself back a step, wings snapping wide in instinctive defense of their dangerous secret.
“You’ll stay in the palace tonight,” he said over his shoulder, his voice steady now, composed only by force of will. “I won’t risk you in the streets.”
Jesenia hesitated, her breath unsteady, then nodded once, holding the words she couldn’t say behind her teeth. Rohannes came to her side, leading her away from the chaos and into the serenity of the gilded halls Val-Theris called home.
The palace wassilent after the chaos, but Jesenia could not rest.
She sat by the tall window in her guest chambers, the city stretching dark and restless below, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders though the air was warm. Outside, Solmiris still murmured faintly with the distant crack of voices.
The door opened without warning.
Val-Theris stepped inside, the torchlight catching in the sweep of his wings, shadows pooling at his back. He wasn’t armored now, only a deep crimson tunic, his expression stripped of the polished composure he wore before others.
Jesenia rose instinctively. “Val-Theris?—”
He moved toward her slowly, as though unwilling to crowd her but unable to keep his distance. Her chest ached at his closeness, which suddenly felt more urgent than before. His gaze caught hers, pale and luminous, something raw burning there she’d never seen before.
His hand lifted slowly, hesitating halfway, as though asking permission without words. Jesenia didn’t step back. She couldn’t.
When his fingertips brushed her cheek, she felt the unmistakable tremor in him, and in that tremor was everything he wouldn’t say: fear and longing and defiance sat heavy on his shoulders, threatening to break him at any moment.
“I thought I could fight this,” he whispered, his voice rough against the quiet. “That I could bury it beneath duty, beneath the weight of what’s expected of me. But when I saw that blade aimed at you—” His thumb brushed along her jaw, slow,deliberate, grounding himself in the warmth of her skin. “I realized I don’t want to fight it anymore.”
Jesenia’s hand rose slowly, almost without thought, until her fingertips touched the edge of his jaw, warm and steady beneath her palm.
Neither of them moved beyond that for a moment, until Val-Theris finally pulled back just enough to look at her fully, his thumb lingering softly beneath her chin. There was no restraint left in his gaze now.
“It’s not safe,” Jesenia whispered finally, her voice shaking. “They tried to kill you because you gave me a voice. What will they do if you choose me?”
“I already have,” Val-Theris murmured, his voice low and certain, his wings shifting faintly in the torchlight. “Every time I breathe, with whatever time I have left, Jesenia, I choose you.”
And though she didn’t understand why the words sounded like goodbye, they sank deep into her chest, searing and undeniable.
SIXTEEN
The council’svoices carried faintly down the marble corridors, muted and sharp, but Jesenia kept walking without joining them, her soft sandals whispering across the polished stone as she slipped through the quieter halls of the palace.
She needed air. Distance. Silence.
