“They’ll come into a world we bled to make,” she said. “But it’soursnow.”
Cassian nodded, forehead pressed to her sternum.
“Then let them inherit the fire.”
They curled beneath the cloak, skin to skin, still joined.
The cliff held them.
The stars crowned them.
For the first time, there was no war—just love. Just breath. Just beginning.
FORTY-SIX
CASSIAN
The wind rolled across the high cliffs of Drakar Hold, sweeping through wildflower-strewn fields where the old obsidian had begun to crack and give way to green again. Magic still pulsed in the bones of the mountain—but it no longer whispered threats. It hummed softly, steady. Safe. At peace.
Cassian stood near the edge of the overlook, arms crossed, his back straight even as the soft cries and laughter of his children echoed behind him.
Children.
Twins.
Gods help them.
“Don’t let her eat the dirt again,” he called over his shoulder, not bothering to turn around.
A high-pitched giggle answered him. “I’m not! She wanted to!”
“She’s a baby. She wants everything.”
“I’m three minutes older!”
Cassian finally turned—and yeah, there it was. The girl twin, all curls and fire, was squatting beside her brother with a guilty smear of mud on her chin. The boy sat with a palm held out,utterly serious as a flickering tongue of flame danced above his skin.
Whitefire.
Stormfire.
Something older. Something all their own.
Cassian crouched beside him, one hand on the kid’s tiny shoulder. “You feel it?”
The boy nodded, face serious in that overly dramatic way only toddlers could manage. “It talks.”
Cassian arched a brow. “What’s it say?”
The kid tilted his head, blinking slowly. “It’s hungry.”
Cassian snorted. “Yeah, well. It always is.”
Behind him, the door to the high tower creaked open, and Seraphine’s voice drifted out like warmth, “They’re out here again, aren’t they?”
“Where else would they be?” he muttered, standing just as she reached him.
She wore no crown, but the wind played in her dark hair like it bowed to her all the same. Her eyes sparkled, even tired from lack of sleep, her belly soft from birth and power still humming under her skin.
