He chuckles softly. “So do you.”
“Mm. Maybe we’ll both turn to steam by morning.”
“If we do, we’ll rise together.”
That makes me smile, even though I’m half-asleep. I shift to press a kiss to his shoulder and nestle against him, my cheek resting just over his heart. I swear I can hear the echo of the flame even here, faint but steady, like a heartbeat beneath the world. Or maybe that’s just him.
His arm drapes over my waist, his breath warm in my hair. “Sleep, Kay.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Liar.”
I laugh. “Okay. A little.”
“You’ve earned it.”
“So have you.”
His hand slides slowly up and down my spine, not for seduction this time, but comfort. A steady tether in a world of flame. There’s one more trial left. I should focus on it, but the thoughts keep dissolving under the warm stroke of his hand.
“Will you still be here when I wake up?” I murmur.
“Sleep.”
I close my eyes, letting the warmth of his body and the quiet certainty of his voice wrap around me like a shield. The pendant at my sternum glows faintly, but it doesn’t frighten me. It feels like a promise.
I drift toward the sound of his breath and the distant memory of flame, and for the first time since stepping through the archway of the Rite—
I don’t dream of home.
Iam home.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CAZIEL
The room still smells like her.
Salt and smoke. A trace of something human—sweet, fleeting, impossible. The sheets are tangled where she slept, cooling fast. If I close my eyes, I can still feel her breath against my chest, the small weight of her hand resting there as if to keep me tethered. She was warm. So alive.
And now she is gone.
The rift sealed cleanly—no scar, no sound—but the chamber feels hollow, like the breath’s been pulled from it. I told myself this was mercy. That she’d wake in her own bed, free, maybe believing Crimson was nothing but a dream. That she’d live, but mercy burns too.
The door creaks open behind me. I don’t turn.
“You should rest,” Sarai says softly. Her tone isn’t unkind. Just tired.
“Later.”
Her steps are slow, deliberate. “You did it, then.”
I nod once. The light catches her face, gleaming and sharp against the gloom.
“She’s safe,” I manage.
“That wasn’t my question.”
