The echo of my name, a ghost on the wind, was the only thing that followed me into the tent. Inside, the silence was a suffocating blanket. Outside, the sounds of the festival—the lilt of a flute, the burst of shared laughter—had resumed, but they belonged to another world, a cruel mockery of the violence that had just transpired.

A tremor worked its way from deep in my bones to the tips of my fingers. My hand drifted to my throat, my touch ghosting over the tender skin. A dark, ugly bruise was already blooming there, a handprint of my uncle’s rage. I couldn’t tear my gaze from the tent’s entrance flap, a primal fear whispering that he could reappear at any moment, his eyes burning with that same cold fire. The phantom weight of his mana still pressed down, stealing the air from my lungs.

“Thalia.”

Cassius’s voice, a low, urgent murmur, finally pierced the haze. I hadn’t even realized he was infront of me. He was kneeling before me, his presence a sudden, grounding warmth in the chill of my fear.

“Thalia,” he said again, his voice tight with a carefully controlled worry. He reached out, not to touch me, but to hover his hand near my shoulder, giving me space. “Look at me. Are you injured?”

I forced my head up, my neck screaming in protest. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, were fixed on the mark on my throat, and a muscle jumped in his jaw.

“I’m alright,” I managed, the words scraping my raw throat. “It’s only a bruise.”

“You went somewhere else,” he murmured, relief softening the hard line of his mouth. “You weren’t responding. I was… concerned.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, shame heating my cheeks. My gaze fell to the trampled dirt floor.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, his voice dropping to a gentle but fiercely protective tone. “You did nothing wrong.”

I looked up, and this time he did touch me. His hand rose to cup my cheek, his calloused thumb a comforting anchor against my skin. His eyes searched mine, a silent question that broke the dam I had built around my terror.

“Cassius…” The words escaped me on a fractured whisper. “I almost killed him. If you hadn’t come… I felt it. The power. I would have done something I could never take back.” My gaze fell to my own hands, which were shaking uncontrollably. They felt like a stranger’s.

He didn’t let my focus linger there. He captured my hand in his, stilling its tremor. “And he would have killed you,” he stated, his voice a blade of cold steel. “You defended yourself, Thalia. That is not a crime. This is his failing, not yours. I will protect you.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, melting into the solid warmth of his touch. I closed my eyes, letting his strength be my own for just a moment.

“Your uncle will see reason,” he continued, his tone softening once more. “He needs time. This day has been a shock for him, for everyone.”

“I never understood,” I said, my voice small. “I never knew the hatred for humans ran so deep. Not just in him. In all of them. What could have happened to make it this visceral?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his expression grave. “But we will find out. And we will face it. Together.”

“But will they ever truly see me?” I pulled back slightly, the familiar insecurity a venom in my veins. “I’m half-human, Cassius. That part of me doesn’t just disappear.”

“You are also half-elf,” he countered, his grip on my hand tightening. “You are Syanna’s daughter. They loved your mother fiercely.”

“My mother isn’t here anymore,” I mumbled, the image of my uncle’s icy glare searing itself back into my mind.

“No,” Cassius agreed softly. “She is not. But Paitelia accepted you without a moment’s hesitation. And more than that…” He paused, his gaze intensifying until it felt like a physical touch. “You are mine. My fated one. That, they will accept. It is law. It is destiny.”

I fell silent, held captive by the conviction in his eyes. He was their leader, their hope. I couldn’t let my darkness tarnish his day of triumph. They are celebrating you, I thought. You deserve this.

“Cassius,” I began gently, “you should go back out. They’re waiting for you.”

His brow furrowed. “My place is with you, Thalia. The celebration can wait.” His gaze drifted down to my wrist, to the silver bracelet that had been my constant companion. “Perhaps… you could take that off? Just for a while.”

I flinched as if struck. “It was my mother’s. I’ve only taken it off once before. It felt like I was betraying her memory.”

“Never,” he said, his voice impossibly soft yet firm. “She would be overjoyed that you are here, with her people. She would want you to be whole, to be yourself. You know this, deep down.”

He was right. My mother would want me to build a bridge, not a wall. She would want me to find a way to reach her brother. Family had to mean something.

I lifted my hand, studying the circlet of woven silver that had been my shield for so long. “You can always put it back on,” Cassius reminded me. “I know its purpose is not yet finished.”

“No,” I agreed, my thoughts drifting to my father, and to Blair. “Her secret is still mine to keep.”

My other hand reached for the clasp, but my fingers trembled too violently to work the tiny, intricate mechanism.

“Allow me,” Cassius murmured. His large hand enveloped my wrist, his warmth a steadying current against my frantic pulse. With his other, he gently worked at the clasp. He fumbled for a moment, his focus absolute, and a small, nervous laugh escaped me.

“It’s more difficult than it looks.”

A soft click echoed in the quiet tent. The bracelet came free.

The world tilted. The air crackled with a rush of displaced magic, and I felt a strange, tingling lightness as the glamour dissolved. It felt like shedding a skin I hadn’t realized I was wearing. The tips of my ears tingled and sharpened. Cassius held the silver chain in his palm as if it were a sacred relic, but his eyes were on me. His expression was one of unreadable awe, his gaze fixed on my face, my ears, my very essence.

His breathing hitched, shallow and trembling, as if the air itself had caught in his lungs. His blue eyes widened, shimmering with raw, ungaurded wonder that made my heart beat wild.

“What is it?” I breathed, a flush of heat creeping up my neck. This was nothing like the reveal in the tower. This was just Cassius. The silence in the tent felt charged, sacred, and so deeply intimate it made my soul ache.

I was suddenly hyper-aware of everything: the way the lantern light sculpted the sharp planes of his face, the subtle shift of his weight as he leaned closer, the tiny hitch in his breath.

“Thalia,” he finally breathed, his voice raw with wonder. “How did I ever become so fortunate?”

“I think you have that backward,” I whispered.

“No.” He lifted a hand, his fingers tracing the delicate, pointed tip of my ear with a reverence that made me tremble for an entirely different reason. He let his hand fall, stepping so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. His dark hair brushed my shoulder as he looked down at me. “You are a dawn I never knew I was waiting for,” he murmured. “Breathtaking. Every part of you.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I had to consciously remember how to breathe. How is this real? That he is mine, and I am his?

“I love you, Cassius,” I whispered, the words feeling truer and more powerful than they ever had before.

“And I love you,” he answered, his voice thick with an emotion that mirrored my own. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against his body until there was no space left between us.

His hand cupped my chin, tilting my face to his. I rose onto my toes, meeting him halfway as he leaned down. My lips parted, my eyes fluttering closed as I felt the warmth of his breath just before his lips met mine.

It wasn’t a kiss of frantic passion, but of deep, resonant certainty. It was slow and profound, a silent conversation where every gentle pressure, every soft exploration, spoke of a love too vast for words. In that kiss, I felt his utter acceptance, a homecoming for every fractured piece of my soul. Time didn’t just bend; it ceased to exist, holding us in a perfect, crystalline moment.

When we finally, reluctantly, drew apart, our foreheads rested together, our breath mingling in the small, sacred space we had created. The joyous music from the festival began to seep back in, pulling us gently back to the world.

Cassius smiled down at me, his eyes bright. “Are you ready to join the celebration?”

“Yes,” I said, and a true, unburdened smile spread across my own face.

I knew that darkness gathered on our horizon, that our peace was fragile. But this moment—this perfect, unshakable moment—was mine. It was ours.

“Then let me introduce you to your people,” Cassius said, his voice laced with a fierce, unwavering pride. He offered me his hand.

I took it without hesitation, our fingers lacing together. I was ready to face whatever came next, as long as it was by his side.