Page 67 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

Thus, under a moonlit sky, I drift into a light doze, content to let dawn find us close. Nerezza is banished, the brood scattered, Drayveth’s condemnation meaningless compared to our synergy. Whatever tomorrow brings, we greet it together, forging a path of hope out of the wreckage illusions once made of our lives. And as I finally yield to slumber, I hear Sariah’s brand humming softly in time with my heartbeat—two souls that overcame the darkest illusions Protheka could muster.

Yes, illusions are fleeting, but the bond we forged stands eternal.

19

SARIAH

Ipress my palm to the still-warm stone floor of the old fortress courtyard, the final echoes of magic fading from the cracked flagstones beneath my fingertips. The hush that follows Nerezza’s banishment seems unreal, a silence so profound it nearly drowns the pounding of my own heart. I barely trust my eyes as they skim over the ruins: shattered pillars, scorched walls, and inert gargoyle husks dissolving into ash. All is still, save for the rasp of my unsteady breaths and Kaelith’s ragged exhalations.

He stands at my side, wings drooping with exhaustion, the once-bright runes upon his obsidian skin muted to faint etchings. The brand on my wrist aches in tandem with the deep hollowness in my chest. We did it; we cast Nerezza into a new seal. But the cost—Gods, the cost—stares at us in every bruise, every battered muscle, every swirl of leftover power that hums then fizzles in the evening air.

My gaze drifts to Kaelith. Even partially bent from weariness, his presence looms tall, the remnants of his gargoyle form still formidable despite the final sacrifice he made. A pang stabs beneath my ribs: I recall how he surrendered the last vestiges of his gargoyle essence, merging it with my purna magic to seal Nerezza for good. Beneath the smear of ash and blood on his jaw, I see the faint lines of what used to be bright runes, now pale as old scars.

He catches me studying him. Our eyes lock, his molten gold meeting my stormy gray. The corner of his mouth quirks up in something resembling relief. The brand flutters in my wrist, echoing with gratitude and heartbreak. We’re both too spent to speak for a moment, letting the magnitude of our victory—and our losses—settle around us.

I swallow, my throat thick. “You’re… are you all right?” The question emerges shaky, laced with concern I can’t conceal.

A ghost of a chuckle rumbles from his chest. “I’m alive,” he answers, voice raspy. “That’s more than I hoped for a few hours ago.”

Those words hit me hard, a reminder of how close we both came to death. My hand drifts to his runes, tracing the faint lines where his power once blazed. He shivers under my touch, eyes fluttering shut. I can’t hold back the tears that slip from the corners of my eyes.He gave so much—nearly everything—for this victory.

“Kae…” My voice splinters on his name. I rub at my cheeks, smearing a bit of dust across my skin. “Let’s… let’s get out of here. We need to find somewhere safe to rest.”

He glances around the broken courtyard. The evening sun casts the ruins in a honeyed glow, turning rubble into jagged silhouettes. “Yes,” he murmurs, stepping closer so our bodies nearly touch. “I can’t bear to remain where illusions once thrived.” His tail flicks, the motion feeble compared to what I remember, but the brand on my wrist thrums in empathy. “Come. Let’s go.”

We support each other, limping across the battered walkway, weaving around chunks of fallen stone. The fortress gate stands half-collapsed, letting golden dusk spill through a wide gap. Each step rattles my bones, reminding me how my body verges on total depletion. I feel Kaelith’s heartbeat in the tether that binds us. Even the slightest brush of our arms sparks a wave of shared comfort—and also a lingering ache for what we lost.He gave up flight, he gave up the runic might that made him unstoppable.

We exit the fortress into a canyon ringed by ancient pines. The air is brisk, carrying the scent of pine needles and chilled earth, a sharp contrast to the stench of battle inside. Neither of us speaks. Words feel too small for the storm of relief and sorrow that churns within. My brand pulses again, this time with gentle warmth, guiding me to a rocky overhang partially sheltered by pine branches—a decent place to camp, at least for tonight.

Kaelith tilts his head, noticing the same spot. We exchange a nod, staggering toward it. The pine-needle carpet muffles our footsteps, providing a modest cushion for our exhausted bodies. As we collapse onto the ground, an unspoken tension coils between us: relief that we’re alive, heartbreak for everything we sacrificed, and a pulsing awareness of how our bond survived the ultimate test.

He sinks against a boulder, head leaning back, eyes closed. I settle beside him, hugging my staff to my chest. My entire being resonates with the urge to hold him, to confirm he’s truly here. The brand on my wrist tingles with a low, throbbing note—an echo of synergy that begs for closeness.

I gently set my staff aside and shift closer, my hip brushing his. He lifts an arm, inviting me into the curve of his side. With a shuddering breath, I nestle into him, pressing my cheek against the leftover stony ridges of his chest. Even half-drained of gargoyle power, he’s still so broad, so undeniablyKaelith.My tears come fresh and silent, relief mingling with gratitude. We’re alive. We’re free. But we’re also so raw.

His arm encircles me, fingers sliding through the tangles of my hair. Our gazes meet, and I see the same swirl of need, sorrow, and hesitant joy in his golden irises. We both sigh, a fragile harmony that merges into a single breath.

He dips his head, voice husky. “I owe you more than an apology for everything. For illusions that tore us apart, for the times I pushed you away. You gave me everything, Sariah, and I—” His words break off, a subtle tremor in his throat.

My heart clenches. I shift, lifting a hand to cradle his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, the faint texture of runes beneath my fingertips. “No more apologies,” I whisper, tears threatening again. “We both nearly lost ourselves to illusions, guilt, or the demands of others. It’s enough that we’re here, that we chose each other in the end.”

He swallows, eyes brimming with unshed tears. A slow moment passes where we just look at each other, letting the final strands of tension unravel. Then, with a soft exhale, he dips his head, pressing his brow to mine. His wings, though weaker, still wrap around my back in a gentle cocoon. I allow my body to relax against him, heart pounding with both relief and an increasing awareness of how deeply I crave his closeness now that the battle is done.

“Sariah,” he breathes, voice low. “Can we…?” He doesn’t finish, but the brand tingles, reading the same longing in me that thrums in him. So many times we united in synergy out of desperation or dire need.But tonight, we might finally let ourselves have this moment of love, uncoerced by crisis.

A watery smile curves my lips. I lean in, searching his eyes. “We can,” I whisper, feeling my pulse hammer in my ears. My cheeks warm as the last threads of fear slip away, replaced by a slow-building tide of affection and desire. We deserve this—not frantic, not borne of life-or-death synergy,but a reaffirming union that acknowledges our equal choice.

He dips his head, brushing his mouth over mine. The kiss starts tentative, as if we’re both testing the reality that we survived. Then the brand flares, synergy flickering. I release a breathy moan, parting my lips. He threads his fingers through my hair, pulling me closer. A flood of warmth rushes through my veins, tinged with the new softness that edges our bond. This isn’t the explosive magic of a dire healing or synergy shield. It’s something gentler—yet it sparks a profound intensity in my chest.

My hand trails down his arm, noticing how the stone ridges are smoother than before, less pronounced. A pang of sadness flickers—he gave up so much. I glance at him, tears stinging. He answers with a tender murmur, sliding his hand down to cup my waist. The tether hums in quiet reassurance: we might’ve lost powers, but we gained a deeper unity that illusions can’t sever.

Emotions swirl in a heady blend. I press closer, letting my cloak fall away. His wings shift, drawing me into a circle of warmth, the pine-scented wind ruffling my hair. Our foreheads touch, and his breath puffs against my cheek with each ragged exhalation. The brand pulses, synergy dancing with a gentle glow. It’s no longer a frantic life-saving maneuver but a gentle undercurrent fueling our closeness.

He moves his hands to my hips, guiding me onto his lap, mindful of the bruises that mark both our bodies. My heart thrums with anticipation, each beat reminding me we’re finally safe enough to embrace this moment. No illusions loom, no condemnation from Drayveth. Just us, raw and real, choosing one another.

“Sariah,” he murmurs, voice husky with longing. Our gazes lock, a thousand unsaid confessions passing between us. I cup his jaw, running my thumb over the faint scars left where runes once glowed. He leans into my touch with a low growl that resonates in his chest, half-gargoyle yet wholly Kaelith.

The next kiss is deeper, more insistent. My pulse races. Heat gathers low in my belly, radiating outward. Our synergy flutters at the edges of my awareness, not the raging inferno of battle but a comforting warmth that intensifies each time our lips meet. I part from him with a gasp, only to trail my mouth along his neck, tasting salt and the lingering dust of collapsed illusions. He exhales sharply, claws—less sharp than before—curling gently against my back.

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