The ballroom had emptied, but Mira’s heart hadn’t settled. Applause, toasts, stares—all of it still echoed in her skull. She needed air. She needed quiet. She slipped out through the servant’s corridor and crossed the courtyard, her heels barely making a sound.
The guest lodge loomed ahead, silent in the moonlight. Cool air wrapped around her like a second skin. The night smelled like pine and steel—sharp and real.
She found him there. Thorne. Alone. Leaning against the stone wall with his arms crossed, as if he’d been waiting all night.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said softly, her voice catching in her throat.
His gaze flicked to her, steady and unreadable. “And yet here I am.”
She took a few steps closer. “You always show up when I least expect you,” she murmured.
“Do you want me to leave?”
She shook her head. “No. Gods, no.”
He stood taller, but didn’t move. “You looked like a queen in there.”
“I felt like a fraud.”
“You weren’t.”
Mira hesitated. “They looked at me like I was something sacred. But all I could think about was how broken I used to be.”
“Used to be,” Thorne said. “That’s past tense.”
She smiled a little. “You say that like I’m healed.”
He shrugged. “You’re not bleeding anymore.”
Mira moved closer, now only a foot between them. Her fingers reached out, brushing his chest lightly.
“I didn’t know if you’d come,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know if I should.”
Her hand lingered on his chest, just over the scar she remembered so vividly. “You saved me. Again.”
He didn’t answer right away. When he finally did, his voice was low. “You saved yourself. I just stood close enough not to let you fall.”
She swallowed hard, then dropped her forehead against his. “I thought you didn’t want to bury anything else.”
“Maybe this time,” he said quietly, “I want to build.” Their lips met, slow and sure. The kind of kiss that spoke of years of silence, of pain softened by hope.
When she pulled back, breathless, her voice trembled. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”
He cupped her face in his hands, thumb brushing her cheek. “Then let me stay.”
“I’m scared,” she confessed. “Simply terrified.”
“I know,” he replied. “But I’ll fight beside you. I’ll be your sword. Your shield. Your champion.”
She looked at him, eyes shining. “You could get hurt. You almost died once already because of me.”
He leaned closer, holding her fully now, arms wrapping around her like home. “Then let me get hurt for something that matters. Let me choose you. Not because I have to. Because I want to.”
Mira closed her eyes. Her fingers tightened around his shirt. “I don’t know if I’m ready to let someone carry me again.”
“I don’t want to carry you,” he said. “I want to stand beside you. If you rise, I rise. If you fall—I will catch you.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She leaned into him fully, letting herself believe. He pulled her into his arms, holding her as if the world could fall away.
Mira buried her face in his chest, heart racing. “I just found you again,” she whispered. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t,” he promised. “Not unless you send me away.”
She looked up at him. “I won’t.”
His arms tightened. “Then build with me, Mira.”