Page 253 of Emylia

With me, he softened.

Just enough.

He wore his pack slung over one shoulder, a sword strapped to his side. Between the two of us, there wasn’t a threat in the realm I feared.

He was death wrapped in flesh.

I was magik barely contained.

Together, we were no mere warning–we were ruin. We were the storm no prophecy dared name. The thing even monsters whispered about and a force the Gods themselves feared.

Or at least I like to think we were.

Maalikai took Jet’s reins, and we fell into step beside each other, leading the horses out of Ophelia. His eyes found mine, and that one look sent a jolt straight through my chest.

Today was the day. The one where I’d give him something that spoke louder than any words. Especially the ones I struggled to say like…

I’m yours.

Completely.

Unapologetically.

Yours.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was quiet, rough. The kind that tugged the truth straight from your throat.

“Nothing.” I kept my tone light, matching the horses’ pace.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

I bit down on a smile. “Because you’re so Gods-damn handsome it’s distracting.”

He halted Jet with a flick of the reins, forcing me to stop too. Before I could retreat into sarcasm, he leaned in close, brushing his fingers along my cheekbone.

“You’re so full of shit,” he said—gruff, amused.

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me against him until every inch of space vanished. His lips found mine—soft at first, then deeper, coaxing fire from where it slept inside me.

“You’re hiding something,” he whispered, his breath fanning across my lips.

“Am not,” I said, way too fast.

I slipped from his grasp before he could dig further and vaulted into Stormfire’s saddle.

My heart pounded against my ribs, already matching the horse’s pace as I urged Stormfire into motion. Wind tore through my hair, tossing it behind me like a banner. As Ophelia blurred in the distance, something twisted in my chest.

We wouldn’t return the same way. We might not return at all. Between magik training and Thrainn’s overbearing sense of ‘protection,’ everything felt… uncertain.

I drew in a deep breath, trying to etch this moment into memory—the light, the trees, the peace before the storm.

But something was wrong. A knot of unease pulsed low in my stomach.

Just nerves, I told myself.

Just nerves about the gift and the choice I’d made.

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