Chapter 13 #3
I took his hand.
He pulled me to my feet with gentle strength and led me toward the mass of spinning bodies. Around us, Fae moved with natural grace. Their steps synchronized to music that seemed to flow directly from the earth.
We were disasters by comparison.
I stepped on his feet twice in the first minute. We moved with all the coordination of newborns.
But somewhere between misplaced feet and off-beat steps, something shifted.
My body began to follow the rhythm without conscious thought. Everything became natural. Daemon’s movements and gaze smoothed as his shoulders and grip relaxed. His hand at my waist began to guide me naturally, and I fully trusted his instincts.
We found our rhythm.
Not the flawless grace of the Fae around us, but something uniquely ours. He spun me, and I followed. My momentum carried me through the turn until his arms caught me gently. We moved through the crowd like light passing through the Veil.
Petals continued to rain down, catching in Daemon’s dark hair and dusting my shoulders with color. The Veil-light blazed overhead. Under its warmth, for the first time, I felt no fear.
Just joy and trust.
It was the first time that my life felt uncomplicated.
Daemon’s eyes met mine, and something passed between us. I could sense that he felt the same simplicity as he pulled me a bit closer.
The music swelled to a gentle crescendo. Like this, we continued for what felt like hours.
Kane hoisted Zephyr onto his shoulders and joined the fray. Kael approached a Fae woman and asked her to dance. Kane, Zephyr, and Daemon shared an amused look while observing Kael.
After breaking enough sweat, we slowed down. The Fae continued, but we decided we needed a break.
We stopped moving but didn’t separate immediately. His hands remained at my waist. Mine rested on his shoulders. We stood there, breathing hard, surrounded by the dispersing celebration, neither willing to be the first to let go.
“Thank you,” I said finally.
“For stepping on your feet?”
“For this.” I gestured vaguely at the clearing, the festival, the impossible beauty of the night. “For bringing me here. For not leaving me in that cell to rot.”
His expression sobered. “Seris,”
“I know it wasn’t mercy. I know you need me.” I met his gaze directly. “But you could have kept me bound and broken. You chose not to. That matters.”
His thumb brushed my waist, barely perceptible. “You matter to me more than you realize.”
The words hung between us, weighted with meaning neither of us was ready to examine.
The moment was interrupted as Kane dropped Zephyr next to us. I broke eye contact, and Daemon moved immediately to avoid any lingering awkwardness from the interruption. The music continued to play loudly as we left the stage and returned to our seats.
Zephyr, Kane, and Daemon began to whistle and cheer at Kael as he continued to dance. He responded with an unamused roll of his eyes.
After a few moments, the music diminished to a comfortable pace and a volume fit for background sound.
The Fae returned to their seats, and we watched the Veil disperse.
Not knowing how much time had passed, I expected the sun to greet us.
Instead, we were greeted by a night sky full of stars, illuminated by a full moon. It was mesmerizing.
Lyralei took the stage again, holding a cup of wine.
She raised her glass. “Here’s to another half-century of peace, joy, and love!”
The crowd erupted, and the clinking of glasses rang through the forest.
The dancing had digested the unreasonable amount of food I had eaten when we first arrived, and right on time, Fae servers filled our plates once more.
Free of worry, pain, and anxiety, we ate and drank. We partied with the Fae, made friends, and enjoyed each other’s company. The lanterns floating overhead shone brightly without making us squint. Instead, they filled the festival with warmth.
Soon, the festival began to wind down. Families of Fae began to filter out, and we took our leave as well. As we made our way toward the entrance, Kael spoke.
“We’ve been freed from the infirmary’s beds. We’ll be staying with you at the lodge now. I hope it’s not an intrusion.”
“Your presence is always an intrusion, Kael,” Daemon responded. Kael chuckled.
At our lodging, Daemon walked me to my door. The others went into their rooms, tired and probably needing extra rest to heal the rest of their injuries.
“Sleep well,” he said.
“You too.”
He turned to leave, then paused. “The joy you felt tonight, hold onto that. Remember it’s possible.”
“Why?”
“Because what comes next will try to take it from you.” His shadows thickened around his shoulders. “Don’t let it.”
He left before I could respond, disappearing into his own room and closing the door quietly behind him.
I stood there for a long moment, processing. Then I entered my space, stripped off the festival clothes, and collapsed into bed without bothering to blow out the candles.
Exhaustion pulled at me like a tide, but I couldn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, I lay there replaying the night: the petals, the light, the celebration. Daemon’s hands guiding me through the dance. The weight of his promise earlier: I won’t let any of them take you.
Lyralei’s words echoed: We are guardians. Keepers. The last defense against what hungers beneath the Cursed Throne.
I’d spent so long running, surviving, fighting just to see another dawn. I’d never considered what I might be running toward instead of away from. I never imagined that I would one day have something to protect other than my own skin.
But tonight, surrounded by people who had built beauty from ashes and valiantly preserved their families and culture despite genocide and exile, I understood.
This was worth defending. These people and this place were joy carved out of a nightmare. I would do whatever it took to preserve and continue their legacy.
And Daemon. Someone willing to risk his life for me. Someone who saw me as a person worth defending.
I would return the favors. All of them.
Sleep finally claimed me, pulling me into dreams lit by Veil-light and filled with petals falling like rain. For once, they carried no nightmares. Instead, the festivities continued in my sleeping soul.
Tomorrow, I would train. If I had to take a hundred thousand breaths to protect the joy I had experienced, I would.
The world I’d found.
The people who’d claimed me as one of their own.
And the man who’d looked at a monster and seen something worth saving.
I would do anything to protect them all.