Corvus Nightshade's Arc

Chapter 11 of 11

The rider left at dawn with coin in his saddlebag. Corvus watched the black stallion vanish toward the gate, then felt his knees go soft. The bond was bleeding him dry. Every step he took, Elara felt it too. If she stumbled at the guards' inspection, they would pull her aside and find what the shadow-binding hid. Blackmere met him at the lodge door. "You're grey," he said. "Sleep. Or she falls tomorrow." He pressed the signed union paper into Corvus's hand and walked off into the camp. Elara took him out past the floral arch where they had spoken their vow. The stars were sharp above the trees. She unbuckled her satchel, laid her cloak down, and pulled him onto it. "Stop carrying it alone," she said. "Give it to me. All of it." He tried to refuse. She put her hand on his chest. "That's not a question." They made love slowly under the open sky. He felt the bond loosen, then settle — not severed, shared. She drew the exhaustion through it and held it like she held everything else, quietly, without flinching. When he finally slept against her shoulder, his breath was even for the first time in days. By morning the grey was gone from his face. Elara stood, steady, the certificate folded in her bag, the silver seal at her throat. "The gate," she said. "We walk through it together." Corvus nodded. The bond was clean. They were ready.