“Leave a few standing. Just in case I visit.”
I lean into him again and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. The quiet seeps back into the air, heavy with things unsaid.
“This part sucks,” I murmur into his chest.
“I know.” He strokes my hair as I breathe him in. Cedar and clove and mint.Home.Even if it’s a home I’m going to have to rebuild.
A soft cough sounds behind us.
The moment snaps.
Gavrail.
“Barrows says your car arrives in two hours to take you to base camp.” His voice is low, edged with steel.
Noa’s arms tighten around me once before he releases me.
We draw apart reluctantly.
“See you at the carriage house?” Noa asks. He kisses me once more—a brush of lips against my forehead. But I feel it like a knife slicing through my heart.
I nod, and walk away before he can see the tears start to fall.
* **
NOA
The sky bleeds into slate, the last traces of sunlight lost to the horizon.
I stand beneath the willow’s sweeping branches, eyes locked on the path where Celeste just vanished. My fists are clenched, shoulders rigid with restraint. The ache hasn’t hit yet—not fully—but I feel it coiling in my chest, waiting.
Behind me: footfalls. A pause. Gavrail hasn’t left.
My voice rings out, too loud and sharp, even to my own ears. “Take care of her for me.”
The words cost me. As I knew they would. Askinghimof all people to take care of what’s most precious to me. And yet begrudgingly, there is no one I’d trust her with more.
I turn. Gavrail stands in the half-light, a shadow drawn from the edge of the world.
“She’s the best of both of us.Betterthan both of us.” There’s no challenge in my tone—just truth, shaped by pain.
Gavrail doesn’t look away. Shadows drape across his features, concealing what stirs beneath, but something passes between us. An acknowledgment. Maybe even respect.
“I know,” he says, steady.
I step closer. My voice sharpens further—not with anger, but the desperate clarity of someone who’d burn the world to keep a promise. “If you hurt her… I’ll come for you,” I say. “Across realms, through shadow and storm. I’ll drag you back by your throat if I have to.”
Gavrail holds my gaze, unflinching. “I’d expect nothing less.” But there is a flicker that crosses his face—approval. Calculation. Match met.
The air shifts. The space where she stood still feels full, still feels like her.
Gavrail’s voice quiets, just slightly. Not soft, but somethingclose. “From someone who already made the mistake once… don’t walk away from her.”
I stiffen, then drag a hand through my hair, exhaling like I’m trying to keep the words down. They rise anyway. “That isnotwhat I’m doing,” I snap. “And I already told you once—I won’t be the one to walk away.”
Gavrail’s posture shifts. Not surrender exactly, but more like…. understanding.
Because if anyone can understand what protection looks like when it costs you everything, it’s him.
