Page 46 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes full of sorrow and relief. Slowly, she draws me into a brief, tentative embrace. Her arms wind around my waist, and my wings stiffen in surprise. After a heartbeat, I allow myself to circle her shoulders, pressing my face into her hair. My chest twists with longing, guilt, and a flicker of fragile hope.

We stand like that for a moment, the mountain wind ruffling our clothes, the muted crackle of the distant fire mingling with the faint hum of our tether. I want to lose myself in the warmth of her presence, but I force myself to remain vigilant. We can’t afford any illusions of safety.

At last, we break apart, breath mingling in the cold air. She runs a trembling hand across her cheek, blinking away the last tears. “Let’s go back,” she says softly. “Try to get some rest before the next crisis.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. We rejoin the others, each lost in their own troubled thoughts. Drayveth’s subordinates keep a wary eye on us, but no one speaks. The air is thick with exhaustion, the aftermath of battles and betrayal.

Night deepens. Stars peek through scattered clouds, their pale glow revealing the harsh lines of the canyon. The wind picks up, carrying a faint scent of ice. Sariah and I settle near the dying embers of the fire, a respectful distance from Drayveth’s group. She claims she’ll keep watch, but her eyes droop with fatigue. Without a word, I step in, offering to take over.

She tries to protest, but her exhaustion is evident. Reluctantly, she slumps against a boulder. I see the bruises on her arms, the strain in her posture. My chest aches.I want to cradle her, let her rest against me.But I maintain a careful space, recalling the vow I just made to try without smothering her.It’s a delicate line.

When the others drift into restless slumber—Drayveth included, though he sleeps with his staff in hand—I remain awake. My wings partially unfurl for better balance, tail coiled around my ankles, scanning the dark perimeter. The tether pulses gently, a reminder of Sariah’s presence. She dozes, her breathing rhythmic.

Time crawls. The moon arcs overhead, painting the cliffs with silver. Memories assault me when I stand guard, half-lulling me into a waking dream.Nerezza’s laughter once echoed off these kinds of mountains, back in an era when we believed ourselves unstoppable. I soared with her, free and brimming with hope.Then I watch that memory fracture into images of her twisted brood, entire villages burned, gargoyles mutated into horrifying creatures. My heart clenches.It was partially my fault.

Yet Sariah’s face flickers into my thoughts, shining with determination, refusing to betray me even when Drayveth demanded it. The tether hums with her quiet breath, anchoring me to the present. Maybethistime, I can do something right. Maybe I can let her in without dooming her to the same fate.

The night wears on. My watch remains uneventful, though tension coils in my limbs, expecting an attack at any moment. Before long, the moon drifts lower, heralding the approach of dawn. The sky lightens imperceptibly, shading from black to a deep, dusky blue.

I hear Sariah stir behind me, a faint rustle of cloth. Glancing over my shoulder, I see her push herself upright, rubbing her eyes. The tether warms at our renewed proximity. She notices I’m still up, exhaustion framing her face. “You didn’t wake me for my shift?” she asks, voice husky with sleep.

I shrug, adjusting my wings with a rustle. “I wasn’t tired.”A half-truth. The guilt-fueled nightmares are worse than mere exhaustion.

Her gaze flicks around the camp—Drayveth’s band dozing fitfully, the dim coals of the fire, the endless mountains. She sighs. “We’re living on borrowed time.” Then she pats the ground beside her, a gentle invitation. “Sit with me, at least until dawn.”

I hesitate. But the quiet sincerity in her eyes tugs at the bond, reminding me of my promise to try. Wordlessly, I cross the short distance and ease down next to her. The rocky ground feels cold against my thighs, and the dying embers offer scant warmth, but there’s a fragile comfort in the simple act of sitting together.

For a few moments, we say nothing, letting the hush of predawn cloak us. The sky turns a lighter gray, revealing distant peaks like jagged teeth on the horizon. Sariah wraps her cloak tighter, rubbing warmth into her arms. Her brand is partially visible, the scarring still raw from the last intense surge of magic. I want to reach out and trace it, to remind her that she’s more than a brand or a condemned purna. But I hold back, unsure if that intimacy would help or hinder.

She glances at me, eyes reflecting the faint glow of approaching dawn. “We’re on the brink, aren’t we?” she whispers. “At the edge of either merging deeper or shattering apart.”

My chest constricts.She’s echoing my own fears.“Yes,” I say, voice barely audible. The tether thrums in quiet sympathy, intensifying the sense of closeness that I both crave and dread.

Her shoulder sags. “I keep thinking about all the times you saved me, all the times you shielded me from Drayveth or the brood. How we survived everything together.” She turns her face to mine, tears glistening. “Despite your fear, you haven’t once abandoned me. And I can’t abandon you either. Not even if it means risking your walls or your doubts.”

A lump forms in my throat. “I… I don’t deserve your loyalty. I’m the one who keeps pushing you away.”

She gives a tiny, sad smile. “Loyalty isn’t about deserving. It’s about choosing to stand by someone.” Her fingers curl in her lap. “I choose you, Kaelith, even if you still wrestle with old guilt. Even if you think you’re saving me by locking me out, I choose to be at your side.”

I lower my gaze, runes flickering. Her words wrap around my heart, stirring a profound longing to let my guard drop, to hold her and release the burden.But can I be that selfish?

Before I can respond, she shifts closer, her hand reaching out. The tether hums as she lays her palm lightly on the top of my wing where it meets my shoulder. A jolt of sensation crackles through me—gargoyles rarely allow anyone to touch their wings uninvited. It’s a deeply personal gesture, akin to letting someone see your vulnerabilities. My first instinct is to recoil, but something in me softens.This is Sariah, not Nerezza.

In the faint predawn light, I see hope mingled with caution in her expression. She waits, as if expecting me to pull away. Instead, I muster a trembling breath, letting the contact stand. My wing relaxes slightly under her touch, an unspoken acceptance.I want her near.

She strokes the leathery membrane gently, eyes flicking to mine for permission. It’s an intimate moment, more revealing than any display of raw power. My pulse thrums, the tether sizzling with quiet tension. Her breath hitches, her brand glowing faintly, as if responding to our synergy.We’re forging a deeper connection,both magical and emotional.

Silence swallows us. The dawn brightens incrementally, painting the eastern sky with pale gold. I feel the bond’s resonance hum between our hearts, a calm and tentative chord that soothes the frantic storms in my head. The memories of Nerezza’s betrayal are still there, but Sariah’s presence layers over them with promise and honesty.

At length, I find my voice. “Sariah,” I murmur, staring at the horizon, “I’m trying to be better. To trust you without fear. I can’t erase the past, but… you’re not her. You’re stronger, kinder, and you challenge me in ways I didn’t expect.” I swallow, vulnerability making me clumsy with words. “I’m sorry if my distance hurt you. I just… I can’t lose you like I lost her. I can’t relive that horror.”

She shifts her hand from my wing to my arm, gentle and sure. “You won’t lose me,” she says, voice quivering with the weight of her promise. “We stand together. Nerezza’s fate… it’s not mine.”

A wave of relief, heartbreak, and cautious optimism collides in my chest. The tether flares with a soft warmth, as if acknowledging our shared vow. For a moment, I close my eyes, exhaling a trembling breath.

We remain like that, perched on the edge of camp, while the sky transitions from gray to soft pink. Gradually, the others stir—Drayveth’s subordinates, still bruised and wary, gather their staves. Drayveth himself emerges from restless sleep, eyes bloodshot. The brief moment of calm between Sariah and me feels like the first truly peaceful watch we’ve shared in days, perhaps weeks.

“I guess we should prepare to move,” Sariah whispers, pulling her hand away reluctantly. My wing tingles where her touch lingers.

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