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Tomorrow, the war would demand our attention. Elias would come. We would have to plan, to prepare, to face whatever he brought against us.

But tonight we had won.

I leaned into August's side and felt him shift to accommodate me, his arm coming around my shoulders.

The moon climbed higher. The ancient trees held their silence. The stone circle glowed faintly beneath us, holding the memory of what we had made.

And for the first time since I had fallen through centuries to land in a world that should have destroyed me, I allowed myself to believe that we might actually survive this.

Together.

CHAPTER 25

AUGUST

Iwoke in the small bedroom at Diana's farmhouse, the sloped ceiling familiar above me, pale morning light filtering through the single window. And I woke to her.

Lily was not merely beside me—though she was that too, curled against my chest, her hair spread across my shoulder like spilled copper. But within me. The bond hummed between us, constant as breath, and I knew she was dreaming before I registered the rise and fall of her ribs against mine. The warmth of her unconscious mind—soft, content, untouched by waking fears.

I did not move.

For so long, the corruption had crushed anything good. The pendant twisting every tender thought into ash. And now she was warm against me. The weight of her. The silk of her hair against my bare shoulder. The soft rhythm of her breathing. All of it mine to hold.

I closed my eyes and let myself have this. Just for a moment. Just until she woke.

She stirred.

Through the bond, consciousness returned to her—slow, reluctant, awareness flooding in. The recognition of where she was. Of who held her.

Her breath caught.

I felt that too. The small hitch in her chest. The sudden sharpening of her attention as she registered the press of my body against hers—hip to hip, my arm across her waist, my thigh between hers where we had tangled together in sleep.

Neither of us spoke.

The silence stretched. Through the bond, every point of contact was magnified. Her skin aware of mine. My skin aware of hers. The knowing doubling back until I couldn't tell whose pulse I was tracking.

“Morning,” she said finally. Her voice was rough with sleep.

“Morning.”

Still neither of us moved.

She tilted her head back and looked at me. Her eyes were soft with sleep but something else lived beneath—something that made my chest tight.

“You can feel everything,” she said quietly. Not a question. “Through the bond. Everything I feel.”

“Yes.”

A flush crept across her cheeks—and I felt it rise beneath my own skin. Her blood warming. Mine answering. The bond pulled taut between us, humming with something that had teeth.

“That seems unfair,” she said.

“It goes both ways.”

Her eyes held mine. She reached through the bond—tentative, curious—and found me already there. Already open. Already undone by wanting her from behind glass, screaming without sound, unable to touch.

Now I could touch. Now there was nothing between us but air and choice.