Page 101 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
He pushed forward another step, shoulder-first, absorbing the next hit as it came. A rock the size of a man’s chestdetached from the high ridge and hurled itself toward him like a cannonball. He caught it midair and threw it down at his feet. It shattered, but the impact jarred him. His vision wavered. His knees buckled again. A crevice opened just ahead, deep and narrow, glowing with heat from within. He could feel it on his shins, a breath from the earth’s deepest mouth.
Still he fought.
He was not soft. He was not safe. But he was hers. And that meant he could not stop.
The vines struck again. This time, they came not with thorns but with memory. The tendrils flickered as they rose, and within their coils, he saw glimpses of past pain. A thousand failed rituals, a hundred blood-soaked Blooms, women kneeling in the dark whispering names no one answered. He saw a version of Nora among them, her back arched, her mouth open, whispering “you came too late.”
Asher roared in refusal. He tore through the illusions, his body battered and glowing with effort. The desert shifted beneath him like a creature uncertain whether to strike or surrender.
Another step. And another. His hands burned. His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. Bark split at his ribs and knees.
Nora was close now. Just ahead. Her body was still glowing, but erratically, like a candle about to gutter out.
He reached the edge of the broken ring as the land made its final move.
The wind stopped. The sky closed.
And the Watcher, still just a hunk of stone, but never just that, shifted subtly and turned to face him.
Asher dropped to his knees.
He laid one hand flat on the earth.
“Burn me if you must. Break every piece of me. But I am hers. I have always been hers. And I will not let you take her.”
The vines hesitated.
The silence deepened.
And the land… shifted.
Not in surrender.
In recognition.
Slowly, as if reluctant, the vines began to unfurl. The glow receded. The wind returned in a low, mournful sigh.
Asher crossed the final distance to her side.
He dropped to his knees, massive hands trembling.
Not from exhaustion.
From restraint.
From everything he hadn’t let himself feel. Until now.
He touched her cheek.
She burned beneath his palm. And for the first time since the desert had swallowed her, Nora moved.
Her eyes fluttered. Her hand reached for him blindly. Her lips parted, cracked and dry.
"You came," she breathed.
He bowed his head to her shoulder.
“The land tried to keep me. But it made me for you.”
