Chapter 19 Lorenth
LORENTH
The blood on my hands still steams in the cold air.
I drop to my knees beside her, reaching out but stopping short—terrified that I'll hurt her worse, that my magic is still too volatile, that I'm covered in gore and she's already been through enough. My hands shake. Actual fucking tremors running through fingers that just crushed a man's heart.
"Senna." Her name comes out rough. Broken. "Gods, I'm—"
She crawls into my arms before I can finish.
The impact of her small body against mine nearly undoes me.
She's trembling, tears cutting tracks through the blood and dirt on her face, and the bond is still muted.
Just this faint whisper where there should be a roar.
Like trying to hear through water. Through walls.
Through whatever poison Darian forced down her throat.
My magic flares instinctively, reaching for her injuries.
I've worked on this since my parents died—spent years honing the healing aspect that most xaphan ignore in favor of destruction.
Never thought I'd need it like this. Never imagined I'd be kneeling in a village square, covered in another man's blood while trying to piece together the woman who's supposed to be mine.
The cut on her cheekbone closes first. Then the bruises around her wrists where the rope bit deep. I can feel the broken rib—gods, he broke her rib—and I pour more magic into it, knitting bone back together with shaking precision.
She gasps against my chest as the healing takes hold. Not pain. Just the strange sensation of flesh mending too fast, of damage being reversed in seconds instead of weeks.
"I was so fucking scared." The confession rips out of me while my magic works, hands pressed to her sides where the worst of the bruising darkens her skin. "When the bond went silent, I thought—I didn't know what happened. Couldn't find you. Couldn't feel you."
The bruises on her ribs fade from purple to yellow to nothing. Her split lip heals. The swelling around her eye recedes until I can see storm-gray clearly again.
"I'm sorry." My forehead drops to hers, magic still crackling between us as I search for any injury I might have missed. "I should have kept you safe. Should have made sure he could never—"
"You're here now." Her voice is hoarse, wrecked from screaming or crying or both. "You found me."
Yeah. After she'd already been beaten. After she'd already been dragged through the village like a criminal. After every single person in this godsdamned square stood by and watched.
The rage that's been simmering since I saw her kneeling in the dirt surges back. My head snaps up, eyes finding the crowd still frozen at the square's edges. They haven't moved. Haven't run. Just standing there like spectators at a fucking show.
A snarl tears from my throat.
"You watched." Magic pulses outward from my wings, making the air shimmer with heat. Several people stumble backward. Good. They should be afraid. "You stood here and watched while he beat her."
The nearest man—old, weathered, probably thinks himself respectable—opens his mouth. Closes it. Smart.
"She was screaming." My voice drops lower, colder. The kind of tone that precedes violence. "Bleeding. And not one of you did a godsdamned thing."
A woman near the back clutches her child closer. The boy can't be more than six, eyes wide as he stares at Darian's corpse. At the blood. At me.
I don't care.
"I should kill every single one of you." The threat hangs in the air, heavy as smoke. "Raze this entire village to ash. Make you all understand what it feels like to be helpless while someone hurts you."
My wings spread wider, casting shadows across the square. Lightning arcs between the primary feathers, pale blue and lethal. The temperature drops another ten degrees. Frost creeps across the packed dirt, spreading outward from where I kneel.
"Lorenth."
Senna's hand touches my face, turning me back to her. Her fingers are still trembling but her touch is gentle. Grounding.
"They aren't worth it." She swallows, throat working around what has to be pain. "Please. I just want to go home."
Home.
Not to Mira's apartment that was once her safety. Not to some temporary refuge. Home. My home. Where she woke in my arms this morning and agreed to bond. Where we made love and talked about protection and permanence.
She still wants that. Even with the bond muted. Even after everything that just happened.
The realization hits harder than any physical blow. She's choosing me. Not because magic demands it. Not because some cosmic force tied us together. But because she wants to.
The rage doesn't disappear—still simmers hot and vicious beneath my skin—but it settles. Banks like coals waiting to reignite.
I gather Senna carefully, one arm beneath her knees and the other supporting her back. She weighs nothing. Less than nothing. Just this fragile, precious thing that I failed to protect.
Never again.
I rise to my full height, wings still spread, and let my voice carry across every corner of the square. Let it reach every house, every shop, every person who thought they could harm what's mine.
"Listen carefully." Magic amplifies the words, making them boom like thunder. "No one comes near her. Ever. You don't speak to her. Don't look at her. Don't even think her godsdamned name."
The crowd shrinks back further. Several people drop to their knees. One woman is openly weeping.
"If anyone—anyone—tries to follow her, tries to claim she owes them something, tries to suggest she should be punished for leaving.
.." I bare my teeth in something that's definitely not a smile.
"I'll come back. And what I did to him—" I jerk my chin toward Darian's broken corpse, "—will look like mercy compared to what I'll do to you. "
Frost continues spreading across the ground, creeping up the sides of buildings. Ice forms in sharp spikes wherever my magic concentrates, beautiful and deadly.
"She belongs to me now." The possessiveness in my tone would probably horrify anyone who doesn't understand what that means. But Senna just curls closer, face pressed to my chest. "My mate. My wife in every way that actually matters. And I protect what's mine."
One final pulse of magic—enough to shatter every window facing the square, to crack stone, to make the earth itself tremble.
"Remember this." I meet the eyes of everyone I can see, making sure they understand. "Remember what happens when you cross me."
Then I crouch slightly, muscles bunching as I prepare to launch skyward. Senna's arms tighten around my neck. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest—too fast, still frightened, but steady. Alive.
The bond remains muted but I don't need it right now. Don't need magical reassurance when I can feel her breathing, when her fingers dig into my shoulders like I'm the only solid thing in her world.
My wings sweep down in one powerful stroke.
We shoot into the sky.
The village falls away beneath us—the square with its bloodstained dirt, the frozen crowd, Darian's corpse already attracting carrion birds. I don't look back. Don't care what happens next. Whether they burn the body or bury it or leave it to rot.
All that matters is the woman in my arms.
Wind screams past us as I climb higher, pushing through clouds until the village is just a smudge on the landscape below. Senna's grip never loosens. She doesn't look down either. Just keeps her face pressed to my chest, breath coming in short gasps that might be sobs or laughter or shock.
My magic wraps around her automatically, shielding her from the worst of the cold. Creating a pocket of warmth even as we slice through freezing air. The bond pulses faintly—still dampened but trying to reach through whatever blocks it.
Soon, I promise silently. Whatever they gave you will wear off and I'll feel you again.
Until then, I have this. Have her weight in my arms, her trust, her choice.
She chose me.
Even broken and bleeding and terrified, she looked at me and asked to go home. To the place we'll build together. The life we'll carve out despite everything trying to tear us apart.
The city appears on the horizon—New Solas with its gleaming spires and chaotic streets. My townhouse sits in the quieter quarter, far from the center but close enough to hear the city's pulse. Two stories. Three bedrooms. A study where I handle business I don't give a shit about right now.
A kitchen where I made her breakfast this morning. A bed where I’ve had her over and over. A home where she's safe.
Where she'll always be safe.
I angle toward it, wings cutting through air with desperate speed. Need to get her inside. Need to strip away these blood-stained clothes and wash away every trace of what happened. Need to feel the bond snap back into place and know for certain she's okay.
Need to hear her say she still wants this. Wants me. That what we started this morning wasn't destroyed by violence and fear.
Senna shifts in my arms, lifting her head slightly to look at my face. Tears still streak her cheeks but her eyes are clearer. Focused.
"Thank you." The words are barely audible over the wind. "For coming. For finding me."
My throat closes around everything I want to say. That I'll always find her. Always come when she needs me. That there's no force in any realm that could keep me away if she's in danger.
Instead I just hold her tighter and fly faster, racing toward home.