Page 7 of Emylia

The adrenaline was gone, stripped from my veins. All that remained was a broken body, a ruined heart, a girl who didn’t know how to survive this.

Sebastian knelt in front of me.

His hands—rough and calloused and shaking—cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"You don’t have to do this alone," he said, fierce and sure, even when his voice cracked on the words.

And before I could fall apart all over again, he gathered me into his arms—held me like he had been born knowing how to catch me.

"It's okay," Sebastian murmured into my hair. "I've got you."

Before I could protest, before I could break more, he swept me up like I weighed nothing at all.

The rain poured down, soaking us both—until it felt like we were carved from the same storm, bound together by it.

I buried my face against him—against the steady, stubborn beat of his heart—and let him carry the weight I couldn't. I savored the warmth of his embrace. Cherished the heartbeat that became the only thing keeping mine from stopping.

"I've got you," he whispered again, the words threading into my soul, stitching me together even as I unraveled.

Not a promise.

A vow.

I didn’t protest. I couldn’t.

I just clung to him, trembling, hollowed, while the storm howled around us.

"Are you ready?" His voice shattered on the words—and my heart stuttered, refusing to answer.

No.

But I nodded anyway, because I couldn't stay collapsed in the mud forever.

Because staying wouldn't bring my father back.

Sebastian lowered me to the ground so gently it broke me all over again. I barely felt the waterlogged grass under my bare feet. I hardly felt anything at all.

I didn't even register my family standing around the pyre—blurry shadows in a world already losing its color.

I only had eyes for the altar.

The pyre.

The place where they would set fire to my father’s body—where they would send him into the afterlife without me.

My heart clawed against my ribs, desperate to escape the reality. It felt like something primal—wild and feral—tearing itself free from my chest.

But Sebastian’s hand found mine.

His fingers threaded through mine, tethering me when I was nothing but smoke.

Somehow—against all odds—I stayed standing.

If Sebastian hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have. He was the only thing keeping me from dissolving completely. The last light I could hold onto in a darkness that wanted to devour me whole.

Sebastian’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, so light it almost wasn't there, and he whispered so softly the fire almost stole it away?—

"I'm still here."Air stilled around us.“I will always be here.”

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