I turn back slowly. Stare up at her sitting on that horse like some kind of vision in white. The moonlight catches her hair, turning it silver-gold.
"How—" My voice cracks. I clear my throat. Try again. "How do you remember that?"
She doesn't smile. Just looks down at me with those eyes that've been haunting me since I was fourteen years old.
Something twists in my chest. Something that feels like the brand—wrong, infected, eating me from the inside out.
She shifts on Cassia's back. Gathers the reins in one hand while the other rests against her thigh, fingers spread over the pale fabric.
"You wrote me a promise," she says. "Now I'll write you one."
I wait. Don't move. Don't breathe.
Savannah lifts her chin. Her voice comes clear and strong:
"Through fire and blood we walk the path alone,
Two souls condemned who carved this world from stone.
Let them come with judgment, sword, and chain?—
We'll build our kingdom from the ash and pain."
Somethin’ inside me cracks. Nah, it rips me the fuck open. Raw and bleeding. And she's not even done yet. She keeps going…
"No grace above will break what hell has made,
No fear below will stop this vow we've laid.
When all is lost and even angels fall?—
You'll still be mine. I'll still be yours. Through all."
I stand there like a statue while her words echo.
Through fire and blood we walk the path alone...
Can't move. Can't speak. Can't do anything but watch her sit on that horse like some kind of warrior queen who just declared war on heaven and hell both.
My throat's closin’ up. Eyes burning. Chest so tight, I might crack a rib just breathing.
Two souls condemned who carved this world from stone...
She wrote me a fucking poem.
Memorized mine. Gave me hers. Like we're trading vows in some cathedral made of blood and barbed wire.
I want to say somethin’. Anything. Want to tell her?—
But the words won't come.
They never do when it matters.
Savannah doesn't wait for them anyway. She turns Cassia with a gentle press of her knee, the mare wheeling smooth as silk, and they disappear into the dark. No goodbye. No looking back over her shoulder.
Just gone.
Like she makes decisions and lives with them. No second-guessing. No begging me to chase her or promise her things I can't deliver. She said her piece. Laid down her vow. And now she's riding home because that's what you do—you make your choice, then you fucking stand on it.
