Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
T he morning was still draped in mist as we made our way down from the cliff, dew soaking the cuffs of our pants, the scent of damp earth heavy in the air.
Most were still asleep. The world felt hushed–balanced on the edge of something waiting to happen. Smoke curled from dying coals, warmth clinging by a thread as it threatened to splutter out. It rose skyward, coiling into the pale light like offerings to Gods who didn’t listen anymore.
Sebastian didn’t speak, and neither did I—not at first.
The silence wasn’t heavy. It was comfortable. Familiar. The kind we’d built over years of knowing when to talk and when not to.
A crow cawed in the distance. The wind stirred the trees just enough to rattle their leaves like a warning.
I rolled my shoulders back, already feeling the fire rising in me again—not the dangerous kind. Not the magik. Just the hunger to move, to breathe, to burn off the ache before it drowned me again.
“You good?”Sebastian asked eventually, casting a sidelong glance.
I nodded. “Better than good.”
He cracked a smile, the corner of his mouth tugging up as he glanced sideways at me. “Don’t get cocky.”
I bumped my shoulder into his, grinning. “You love it when I’m cocky.”
He rolled his eyes, but his smirk deepened. “Debatable.”
He rolled his shoulders, loose and easy, then nudged me with his elbow. “Bet I can beat you there.”
I arched a brow. “What, to the clearing?”
He shrugged, all casual confidence, but there was a spark in his eyes now–the one that meant trouble. “Unless you’re scared.”
“Of you?”I scoffed. “In your dreams.”
“You don't want to know what goes on in my dreams.”
I shoved him, and he took it with a grin.
“On three?”I said.
“One.”
“Two—”
He took off before I even got the word out.
“You cheater!”
“I improvise!”he called over his shoulder, already halfway down the worn path.
I chased after him, laughter bursting from my throat before I could stop it. The air whipped around us, sharp and cold and exhilarating. My boots slipped once on the wet grass, but I kept going, catching up fast, knowing he eased his pace for me.
Just as I reached for his shirt to yank him back, he twisted, caught my wrist—and spun.
“Sebas—!”
I went flying into the soft grass with a thud, breath whooshing from my lungs. He landed beside me, breathless with laughter, grass tangled in his hair.
“Unfair!”I wheezed, swatting at him.
“Totally fair,”he grinned. “You should’ve seen your face.”
I tried to scowl, but I was laughing too hard.
The clearing stretched out before us, dappled in early sunlight, the scent of morning blooming wildflowers already stronger here. The grass was still cool beneath me. And for a second—just a second—I forgot everything else.
Sebastian sat up beside me, brushing a leaf from my hair with a flick of his fingers, like it had no right to be there. His touch lingered longer than it needed to—just long enough to steal my breath.
“You’ve got that look again,”he teased.
“What look?”I asked, even though I already knew.
He tilted his head, smirking as his eyes traced my face. “The smug one. The one that says you think you’re about to win.”
I grinned. “That’s because I am.”
He sprung to his feet in one fluid movement, a streak of sun glinting off his skin as he stood over me. There was something in the way he moved–effortless, wild, sharp–that made my stomach coil impossibly tight.
He extended a hand, smirking. “Gods, you’re insufferable.”
“You love it.” I murmured, watching the way his eyes flicked to my mouth before he caught himself.
“I tolerate it, at best,”he muttered, his fingers curling around mine and pulling me to my feet. But his laugh betrayed him.
“Come on. Quit stalling.”
We moved to the center of the clearing, circling each other like we’d done a thousand times. The sun was still rising, casting golden light over the grass, turning every breath into a puff of mist.
“No weapons?”I asked.
“Nah,”he said, flexing his fingers. “I like a fair fight.”
“Fighting me will never be fair. My power is a weapon. I was just trying to give you an advantage.”
“You’re dangerous,”he said, stepping closer. “But I can handle it.”
I lunged. He sidestepped—barely.
The first few exchanges were playful. Light on our feet, we moved in tight, teasing circles–fingers brushing over bare skin and worn fabric, not striking so much as tasting the charged space between sparring and something far more dangerous.
He was fast, but I knew his rhythm. I knew the way his left foot always gave him away right before a pivot. He faked high. I spun low, dropping into a crouch that let me slip beneath his reach. His boot scuffed the dirt as he twisted, trying to hook my ankle—but I was faster.
I caught his wrist mid-move, fingers tightening just enough to make him stumble. My grip lingered, a half-second too long, just enough for both of us to feel it.
He came back with a grin sharp enough to cut, golden eyes blazing with that mix of challenge and something darker—something hungry.
I pivoted before he could recover, sweeping his legs out from beneath him in one clean motion. He went down hard, the air leaving his lungs in a winded oof as his back hit the grass. I didn’t give him a moment to catch it. I stepped over him slowly, letting my shadow fall across his chest as I looked down at him.
“That smug enough for you?”I asked, breath just a little uneven.
His hand curled into the grass like he was holding himself back from something else entirely.
“Shit,”he laughed, staring up at the sky. “Okay, I’ll give that to you. That was actually good.”
But I knew he’d been going easy on me—even though I didn’t need him to.
“Don’t act so surprised.”
“Not surprised. Just impressed.”He propped himself up on his elbows. “You’re getting stronger.”
The tone shifted—just a fraction. The kind of shift that tightens the air in your lungs before you realize you’ve stopped breathing.
I offered him a hand.
This time, he took it—and didn’t let go.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. The world narrowed to the space between us.
“You’ve changed,”he said quietly, his eyes searching mine.
My voice barely found its way past my lips. “So have you.”
We stood there, fingers still linked, breath catching on the edge of something too big to name.
Then—
“Sebastian.”
The voice cut through the clearing like a blade.
Maalikai.
And behind him, one of Thrainn's warrior’s—armor midnight black, sword strapped high, urgency written across every line of his face.
Sebastian dropped my hand like it burned.
“What’s going on?”I asked, heart already slamming against my ribs.
The warrior approached, bowing slightly to Sebastian before speaking. “You’re needed in Ophelia. Immediate departure. The Chief said not to wait.”
Sebastian’s jaw locked. “For how long?”
“Three days. Maybe four.”
Sebastian turned to me. The teasing was gone. That lightness he always wore like armor had cracked—and underneath was something sharp and hollow.
“I have to go.”
I nodded. But it felt like lying. “It’s okay.”
Maalikai stepped forward.
“Don’t stress, I’ll be with her.”His gaze flicked from me to Sebastian, steady and sure. “She won’t be alone.”
Sebastian hesitated. Just a breath. Just long enough to carve something open in my chest.
Then he nodded, sharp and final.
“Keep her safe.”
Maalikai didn’t answer. He just held my gaze—and somehow, that was enough.
Without a word, Sebastian’s fingers found my hips, splaying against them like he was claiming me—memorizingevery inch of how I felt.
His forehead brushed mine as he took a stuttered breath.
“Several days. I promise,”he whispered, and I felt how much it cost him to say it.
“I’ll be fine,”I said.
But I wasn’t sure I would be.
“I know you will.” He shut his eyes, drawing a breath that sounded like it betrayed his soul.
Then his lips found mine—deep, commanding, full of everything he wouldn’t say. Couldn’t say. There was no softness in it. No hesitation. Just heat, and heartbreak, and a goodbye he couldn’t bring himself to speak.
And when he pulled back, breath ghosting across my cheek, I felt the absence like it had claws.
His hand shifted slightly on my waist, like he might draw me closer—just one last time.
But he didn’t.
And in that pause—Gods, in that pause—I knew.
He wouldn’t ask. Wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t say it, even now. He just held me, like maybe if he did, I wouldn’t slip through his fingers when he finally let go.
So I smiled—soft, heartbreaking.
“You’re still trying to convince me, aren’t you?”
He gave the ghost of a laugh… but said nothing.
And that silence?
It said everything.
His lips found the crown of my head. “I love you.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond. He turned and walked away.
Silence claimed my soulas I watched him disappear into the trees.
And then—he was gone.