Page 42 of His Darkest Devotion

“Here,” he mutters, pointing to an iron door scrawled with archaic runes. A guard stands there, half-dozing. He spots us too late—Vaelin lunges, driving an elbow into the guard’s helm, knocking him unconscious. I stifle a cry at the ferocity in Vaelin’s eyes, a flicker of gargoyle feralness. But it fades as he sags against the door, panting.

We push through. A damp spiral staircase plunges downward, air growing musty and cold. No torches light this way; it smells of abandonment and old secrets. The door slams shut behind us. “They’ll follow soon,” Vaelin mutters. “We must hurry.”

The catacombs unfold in a maze of crypt-like chambers, stone sarcophagi littered with cobwebs, columns cracking under centuries of neglect. My illusions glow faintly, offering just enough light to navigate. Each step makes me even more anxious—one misstep, and we could be buried or cornered.

When footsteps resound behind us, a chorus of shouting soldiers, Vaelin curses. “They’re close.”

My mind races. “We can try my space-time magic again, but I’m nearly drained. I don’t know if we can hold them off for long.”

He grimaces. “We might not need a full distortion. Just enough to confuse them while we slip outside.”

I nod, adrenaline spiking anew. We pick up pace, ignoring the burn in our muscles. The labyrinth eventually narrows into a tunnel that slopes upward, water dripping from the ceiling. At the far end, I glimpse faint moonlight seeping through cracks in a grated exit.We’re almost free.

But the Overlord’s soldiers pour down the staircase behind us, their voices echoing off the catacomb walls. I sense them closing in, illusions or not. Blood roars in my ears.One last push.

We break into a run, feet splashing in shallow puddles. The exit looms—an ancient grate secured by heavy iron bars. Vaelin coughs, pressing a hand to his side. I dash forward, illusions swirling as I press my palms to the grate. Transformative magic sparks again, turning the bars pliant. My arms tremble with exhaustion, but I force the metal to warp just enough for us to squeeze through.

“Go,” I rasp. Vaelin slips past the twisted bars first, then reaches back, yanking me through. The catacomb air behind us explodes with shouts as the soldiers round the final bend.We have seconds.

The moment we’re both outside, I let the bars snap back, sealing the gap. The soldiers pound on them from within, cursing and slashing. Vaelin and I stagger away, panting in the moonlit wilderness. We stand at the end of a steep ravine, the fortress walls towering above us on an outcrop. The swirl of night air stings my lungs.We’ve escaped—barely.

I slump against the damp rock, illusions flickering into nothingness. Vaelin rests a trembling hand on my shoulder. For a few heartbeats, neither of us speaks. Our gazes meet, raw emotions swirling between us: relief, shock, and the lingering echo of our magical union. My cheeks heat, recalling how intimately our essences merged. A flush of something like longing washes over me, even in this precarious moment.

Vaelin’s voice, low and hoarse, cuts through the hush. “Elira… you freed me from that hold. I… I owe you my life.”

I swallow, tears threatening. “Don’t say it like that. I couldn’t bear leaving you there, not after…” My words trail, the memory of our desperate closeness still vibrating in my chest.

He steps closer, brushing off the pain in his side. “That power you unleashed—space-time illusions and your life magic—it severed the Overlord’s chain. I can still feel his presence at the edges, but it’s muted, like a door slammed shut.”

I nod, emotion thick in my throat. “It won’t last forever. He’ll try again. That orb?—”

Vaelin’s mouth quirks into a grim line. “I know.” He lifts a hand, tentatively brushing knuckles across my cheek. It’s such a tender gesture, surprising me. My pulse quickens. “Still… you gave me a chance to fight back.”

My lips curve into a weak smile. “We can’t linger here. The fortress’s forces will fan out soon. We need to put distance between us and Orthani.”

He sighs, jaw tight. “Yes, you’re right.” Then, quieter, “Thank you. For risking everything.”

I reach up, curling my fingers around his. The memory of that frantic, intimate magic enveloping us resurfaces in a wave of warmth and sorrow. “We’ll figure out the rest once we’re safe.”

With difficulty, we navigate along the ravine’s edge, the fortress looming behind us like a dark omen. Torches flicker atop its walls, and faint shouts drift on the wind. Rain drizzles anew, soaking our clothes. Vaelin clenches his teeth, pressing a hand to his ribs as we pick our way over jagged rocks. Once or twice, he slips, nearly toppling, but I steady him, illusions flickering to hide us from any passing patrol.

At last, we reach a narrow trail descending the ravine, each step precarious on the wet stone. Lightning flashes overhead, revealing the vast plain below, dotted with stunted trees. The city lights of Orthani glimmer to the south, a stark reminder of what we just left behind.We need to vanish from their grasp.

Eventually, the slope levels out into a small hollow sheltered by rock overhang. Exhaustion crushes me, knees trembling, illusions nearly spent. Vaelin leans heavily on a boulder, gasping for air. I rummage for a scrap of cloth to bandage his side anew, ignoring my own trembling limbs.

He flinches as I press the cloth to his reopened wound. “I’m not sure I can keep going tonight,” he admits, voice laced with frustration. “I’m half convinced we should keep moving, but my body disagrees.”

My heart twists at his vulnerability. “We’ll rest here until dawn,” I say softly. “I’ll cast illusions to conceal us. We can’t push further without collapsing.”

He nods, eyes clouded with pain. I offer my half-torn cloak as a makeshift cover on the rocky ground, and we settle side by side, battered bodies craving warmth. The drizzle peters out, leaving a chill in the air. Shadows shift across Vaelin’s face—his obsidian skin bruised and scraped, yet somehow still achingly familiar.

A lump forms in my throat as I recall the intense intimacy we shared in that corridor. My cheeks flush. We might never speak of it plainly, but the memory hums between us. The Overlord’s fortress, the shimmering bubble of space-time magic, the desperate melding of our powers, and that frantic, consuming kiss.It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a forging of something deeper.

“Elira,” Vaelin murmurs, drawing me from my thoughts. His voice sounds small in the hush of the ravine. “I don’t know how to repay what you did.”

I close my eyes, resting my head against the damp rock. “Don’t repay me. Just… stay true to yourself. Don’t let the Overlord warp you again.”

He lifts his hand, hesitates, then gently takes mine. Warmth pulses where our fingers intertwine. Neither of us mentions the improbable bond growing between us, but it fills the silence with unspoken promise.In this dire world of monstrous threats and endless betrayal, maybe we can find some measure of hope.

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