My gaze drifted to the window.
Through the narrow pane, I could see the distant spires of Umbral rising dark against the night sky, their curves etched in silver where moonlight caught along their edges. Beyond them, farther than I could truly see, lay the river.
And beyond the river, Haelen.
My family would be in their home now. Or perhaps still in the square. Perhaps arguing with neighbors. Perhaps grieving something that was not death but felt close enough to it.
Would my mother sit at the edge of her bed tonight and wonder if I was cold? Would my father stare out the window toward the river and wonder if I was safe?
I pressed a hand to my chest and rolled onto my back again, staring at the ceiling.
The bond stirred before my ears caught the soft click of the door easing open.
“You are awake,” Talon said softly, crossing the room. The mattress dipped as he sat at the edge of the bed.
“I tried not to be,” I replied, my gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
“You should be resting,” he murmured.
“So should you.”
I turned my head at last.
He had shed his outer layers, leaving only a dark shirt clinging slightly at the collar where rain had not fully dried. His hair was no longer flattened by the storm, but it still bore the faintest wave from earlier dampness.
“You chose me,” he said, his voice disbelieving. “You stood before your entire city and you chose me.”
“I did,” I said, looking up at him.
“They would have killed you.”
“I know.”
His hand came down beside my shoulder. “You left your family.”
“The council gave me no choice, but even if they had, my decision would not change.” My breath trembled. “It is hard to think I will never see them again.”
“If they wish to cross the border, they may,” Talon said firmly. When I looked at him in confusion, he continued. “There is land near the inner gate. A small pavilion, open to the sky. They may sit there without stepping fully into Umbral. I will make a place where they are comfortable, Kaelia.”
My chest warmed at the thought of my mother beneath dark blossoms instead of Haelen stone. “You would do that for them?”
“You chose me,” he said, lifting a hand to brush my hair back. “Now I choose you. And if that means accepting your family, then yes.”
I studied the lines of his face. “I did not choose you because you deserve it. I chose you because I do.”
Something flickered in his expression then, something that looked dangerously close to vulnerability. He shifted closer, his hand finally lifting to brush a loose strand of hair from my cheek.
“I am not accustomed to being chosen,” he said.
“I will always choose you,” I whispered.
Slowly, he slid from the edge of the bed to his knees beside it, his hands resting on my hips.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his forehead brushing my abdomen, “how I am to repay such loyalty.”
A different kind of warmth pooled low in my body, born of certainty and wanting. I reached down, threading my fingers through his hair and tilting his face up toward mine.
“You do not owe me for loving you,” I said.