Chapter 51
Chapter
Fifty-One
Dusk fell. He watched her by the fire, unable to look away. The others slept or kept silent watch. The forest's nocturnal sounds rose around them, while the whispers that had plagued him retreated beneath the steady rhythm of her presence.
Eliza sat cross-legged near the flames, mending a tear in her cloak. Each movement—needle through cloth, thread pulled taut—was precise, patient. He found it hard to look away.
Her calm was an anchor. Every time his thoughts threatened to slide toward hunger, he found her face instead.
He wondered how long that could last.
When the fire dimmed, he lay back, one arm over his eyes to block the last of the light. His other hand rested over the place where her palm had been. The shadows stirred faintly beneath his skin, curious and almost gentle.
He whispered into the dark: "Endure."
Her voice answered immediately, barely audible across the clearing: "I am here."
Their ritual, simple and profound, held his demons at bay, at least for tonight.