Epilogue #2
The sound of hoofbeats echoes up from the plaza below, and my pulse quickens despite myself. She always affects me like this. My consort who shares my rule, my lover who shares my bed, and the love I never expected to find and refuse to take for granted.
I could go down to meet her. I could abandon all pretense of dignified patience and be there when she dismounts.
The impulse is stronger than it should be, stronger than any ruler should feel about a three-day absence.
But there's something to be said for anticipation, for the building tension of knowing she's climbing the stairs, moving through hallways toward our rooms, toward me . ..
Through our bond, I can feel her exhaustion from the long ride, but underneath it runs the same eager anticipation that courses through me.
She's tired, but she's also hurrying, taking the stairs faster than necessary, probably dismissing any servants who offer to attend to her needs.
The knowledge that she's as eager as I am to close the distance between us sends warmth spreading through my chest.
In moments, she'll be walking through those doors, bringing with her stories of her trip and the particular energy that only she possesses. The way she moves through space, the subtle shift in atmosphere when she enters a room, the immediate sense of completion that comes when she's near.
I think about the memorial gardens, about Sereven's marker and the choices made in the name of necessity.
The path that led us here required decisions I'll never stop questioning, actions that served purpose while exacting personal costs that can't be balanced in any ledger.
But sitting here, waiting for Ellie to come home to the life we've built together, I understand something about victory that no amount of formal teaching ever taught me.
True victory isn't measured only in enemies defeated, though that matters.
It's measured in the space between what was lost and what was found, in the possibility of building something better from the ruins of what came before.
And sometimes, if you're fortunate beyond any reasonable expectation, it's measured in the sound of familiar footsteps climbing stairs toward home.
ELLIE
The sight of Ashenvale’s walls rising up in the distance makes my heart lift every time.
Home.
The word holds weight it never had when I still lived in Chicago—not when I lived in the group home, and not when I lived in my apartment. I have never had anywhere before that fits me as completely as here does.
“You’re practically bouncing in your saddle,” Mira says from beside me, though her own relief at seeing the city is obvious despite her attempt to sound unimpressed.
I am not bouncing.”
“You’ve been urging your horse to go faster every few minutes for the past hour. And now you’re bouncing. It’s undignified for someone who supposedly rules Meridian.”
“I don’t rule anything. I just happen to be the consort of someone who does.”
She snorts. “And I suppose the way the settlement leaders hung onto your every word was nothing more than politeness.” Mira’s tone is dry as dust. “The respect they showed you had nothing to do with your own influence?”
Warmth spreads through me at her words, even as I try to deflect them. She’s not wrong. Somewhere along the way, I’ve become someone people listen to, someone they trust. It still surprises me sometimes.
When we finally reach the city, we guide our horses through the outer gates and into streets that bustle with life.
The change from how Ashenvale was the first time I ever came here still amazes me.
Vendors hawk their wares without looking over their shoulders, children play games that would have been forbidden under Authority rule, Veinbloods use their abilities to help with daily tasks.
What was once a city ruled by terror has become something vibrant and alive.
“Look at you.” Mira shakes her head, following my gaze as I take in the scene around us. “You’re mentally checking off every detail like you’ve been gone for months instead of three days.”
“I like seeing how things change … how they grow.”
“You like seeing proof that what you and Lord Torran built actually works.” She fails at hiding the affection in her tone. “Though, I have to say, I believe your eagerness to get home has less to do with civic pride and more to do with a certain Shadowvein High Prince.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “That’s not—”
“Please don’t insult my intelligence. You’ve been distracted since this morning.
Every time we crested a hill, you were checking to see if we could spot the city yet.
” She shakes her head, but I see the way her lips twitch.
“Two years together, and you still can’t bear to be apart for more than a few days. ”
I glare at her, and she laughs.
“There’s no harm in admitting that you are in a hurry to return to the man you love, Ellie.”
Rolling my eyes, I bring my horse to a stop outside the stables set in one corner of the plaza that surrounds the Lirien Tower. One of the stablehands comes out and takes the reins. I ask after his mother’s health, his sister’s children, and he smiles in delight while he tells me about them.
“Go.” Mira slides down from her own horse. “I’ll make sure everything goes where it needs to. You have far more important things to focus on.”
“Thank you.” I give her a quick hug.
“Try not to get too loud. Remember that you aren’t the only people in the Spire,” she calls after me as I hurry toward the entrance. “You’re going to have to face most of them at some point over the next few days.”
My cheeks burn, but I keep moving forward, until I’m inside and taking the stairs two at a time. Servants nod as I pass, greeting me with genuine warmth and smiles, but I don’t stop.
Our quarters finally come into view, the doors standing open as they always do when I return. Sacha is rising from his chair by the window when I step inside, and the sight of him makes my breath catch and my heart skip a beat.
Those dark eyes that seemed so cold and dangerous when we first met hold nothing but heat and love now.
“There you are.” That deep rich voice washes over me, and he crosses the floor with a fluid grace that makes heat bloom low in my stomach.
“Finally!” I step into his arms, breathing in the scent that means home, safety, and belonging. “I missed you.”
One hand lifts to cup my face, thumb brushing over my cheek as he tips my head up to press his lips to mine. The kiss is soft, gentle, but underneath it I can feel the barely restrained hunger that makes my pulse quicken.
“Not nearly as much as I missed you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “How was Vorith?”
“Well. She says the harvest was exceptional this year.” I lean into his touch. “But I’d rather talk about that later. There are other things I want to focus on right now.”
“Soon.”
“Soon?” I pull back to look at his face. There’s something there that makes my stomach flutter with unease. “What is it? What’s happened?”
He takes my hand in his, and leads me to the chairs by the hearth. “Nothing bad, Mel’shira. Do you remember a promise I made you?”
“Promise?” I blink, frowning.
“I promised to look in the archives to see if there was anything about your past.”
My breath catches. “What did you find?” My voice is barely more than a whisper.
“As expected, the Authority kept detailed records. In all the information they kept, Telren found details about you and your parents.” His voice is gentle.
The room tilts around me, and I sink into the chair he guided me to, my hands gripping the armrests. “You know who they are?”
“Theren and Lyanna. They lived in a settlement called Drakemere, about three days ride northeast from here.” He settles into the chair across from me, never breaking eye contact.
“Lyanna.” I picture the woman I saw when Nyassa first returned my bracelet. “Lyanna and Theren.” I savor their names.
“They would be proud of who you’ve become.” His voice is soft. “Of the choices you’ve made, the strength you’ve shown.”
“I hope so.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, then look at him with a watery smile. “Thank you. For remembering your promise.”
“It was important to you.” He stands and extends his hand to me, drawing me to my feet. “Now, shall we move to more immediate concerns?”
“Immediate concerns?”
His quiet laugh sends shivers down my spine, and he takes my hand to lead me into the bedchamber. “I’ve been thinking about nothing but holding you for three days.”
The moment the door closes behind him, his mouth crashes against mine with three days’ worth of hunger, hands tangling in my hair as he backs me against the wall. I gasp, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss until I’m dizzy.
My fingers find the ties of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
“I’ve thought about this every night you were gone,” he whispers against my neck. His teeth graze over the pulse beating wildly at the base of my throat, and I arch against him with a soft cry.
His hands slide over my hips and he lifts me.
My legs wrap around his waist, reveling in the strength of his arms, the way his breath stutters when I bite along his jaw.
We tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and desperate touches, clothes disappearing between fevered kisses and wandering hands.
His mouth traces a path down my body, until he settles between my thighs. He pauses there, looking up at me, a half-smile playing about his lips.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re about to eat me.”
His laugh vibrates along my thigh. “But that’s exactly what I’m about to do, Mel’shira.”
He lowers his head, and when I reach down to dig my nails into his shoulders, he makes that low sound in his throat that drives me wild. Our powers rise, silver light dancing across his skin as his shadows caress places his hands haven’t yet reached.
“Tell me,” he whispers. “Tell me what you want.”
The words that spill from my lips are breathless, urgent, everything I’ve thought about during our time apart. His answering smile is wicked as he sets about fulfilling every whispered request, until I’m lost in sensation, and the only coherent thought left is his name.
When we finally come together, it’s with the desperate intensity of two people who have been apart too long.
The world narrows to just us, the slide of skin against skin, the mingled sounds of pleasure, and the way our powers spiral together in patterns that mirror our bodies’ dance.
When release finally claims us, it’s shattering, complete, and leaves us gasping and clinging to each other.
Afterward, we lie together, limbs tangled, sheets twisted around us. I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart while his fingers trace lazy patterns along my spine.
“I saw the strangest creatures on the way back home. Animals with long necks and spotted hides, about the size of a small pony, but they moved so gracefully. They watched us pass.”
“Kelthara.” His voice is a rumble beneath my ear. “They’re curious about travelers, but completely harmless. Did they tilt their heads when they looked at you?”
“Yes! Like they were trying to figure out what I was.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly what they were doing. Kelthara can sense magic, and yours …” his fingers tickle along my spine. “Yours would be unlike anything they’ve encountered before.”
“Two years here, and I’m still discovering new things about this world.” I lift my head so I can kiss a circle over where his heart beats. “Wait … are there dragons here?”
“Dragons?” The word sounds almost exotic on his lips, but his tone is puzzled.
“There are so many stories about them on Earth. Huge creatures with wings and scales, that breathe fire and hoard treasure.”
“Ah.” He laughs softly. “We have something called vaethron, though they’re not quite what you’re describing.”
He lifts a hand and shadows gather above his palm.
They take shape as I watch, becoming something almost serpentine.
When the form is complete, it’s become a beast with feathered wings instead of scaled ones, with long necks and tails, and horns that curve above long-snouted heads.
The shadow creatures move through the air above us.
“What are they like? Are they dangerous?”
“Very intelligent. More so than most people, if the stories are true. They don’t breathe fire, though.
They sing, and their voices can pull dreams from your mind and make them real.
” The shadow dissolves back into darkness.
“My mother took me to see them once, when I was young. We traveled across the Great Beyond to visit her homeland. The vaethron nest in the cliffs there.”
The casual mention of his mother catches me off guard. He rarely talks about her, and when he does, there is always an edge of pain in his voice.
“What was that like?”
“Overwhelming. Beautiful. Terrifying.” His chest rises and falls with a deeper breath. “I was eight … maybe nine? The vaethron sang while we watched from a distance, and the sound …” He pauses, searching for words. “It felt like the entire world was listening. Even the wind stopped.”
“I’d love to see your mother’s homeland someday.”
“We can do that.”
“It’s strange to think I used to believe this world would never feel like home.”
“And now?”
“Now I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” I meet his eyes, struck again by how completely my life changed the moment I stepped through that tower door.
His arms tighten around me. We are no longer the broken people who found each other in a tower prison. We've become something neither of us expected to find. Partners in every sense, builders of something that will last beyond our individual lives.
And this, I realize as his hands tangle in my hair and his mouth finds mine again, is only the beginning.