Page 140 of Emylia

Reborn.

It wasn’t just a mark.

It was a promise.

It was us.

Not just our bond, but our fire. Our defiance. Our fury. Our refusal to stay down. We didn’t just survive—we came back burning.

No matter how many times we shattered, we would always rise—together.

The breath left my lungs. My throat clenched–trembling, traitorous–as if the words knew they’d unravel me the moment they tasted air. “You did this?” I whispered.

He nodded once, voice low. “I meant to give it to you earlier, but the timing didn't feel right.”

I stared at it, at him, completely shattered. This wasn’t just a gift. It was a confession.

A vow.

A promise.

Sebastian dug into his pocket and pulled out a strip of black leather, a small ring already attached to the top of the arrowhead. “May I?”

I nodded, wordless.

He threaded the strap with practiced ease and stepped closer, hands brushing against the bare skin at the nape of my neck as he tied it into place.

I reached up, fingers closing around the cool weight now resting against my collarbone. The metal seemed to hum with meaning.

Turning me gently, Sebastian leaned back just enough to look at the necklace—and then at me. “There,” he murmured. “Now you will always know.”

I swallowed hard, eyes stinging, “know what?”

“That you’re my everything.”

Tears threatened to spill fourth as I stared at him like he was my sun, moon and stars all burning in one giant eclipse.

I opened my mouth to say something but I was at a loss to tell him what he meant to me.

And then everything froze.

It was as though my soul sensed Maalikai’s presence before my eyes even found him—like something in me had always been tethered to him, like fate had entwined our souls in the same eternal thread.

The air shifted. My breath hitched. And before I could process what was happening, I turned.

His eyes caught mine—and stole them.

The world narrowed to nothing but his gaze.

But I was still acutely aware of Sebastian—the heat of him, the weight of everything that still lingered like smoke. He stood so close behind me I could feel it—his presence, his hope, the pull of what we’d shared just seconds before.

I didn’t have to look to know he was watching. I could feel the fire of it licking at my back, like he was trying to hold me here. Trying to tether me to the version of myself that belonged with him.

The silence stretched—sharp and volatile, like it might ignite if one of us moved.

“Em?” he asked, quiet but sure.

When our eyes collided, they fractured. I was already shattering.

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