Page 43 of His Darkest Devotion

We rest, hearts still thrumming from near disaster, bodies pressed for warmth against the cold night. My illusions weave a faint shimmer around the hollow, hiding us from prying eyes. Lightning arcs in the distance, the sky rumbling a muted threat. I remain hyperaware of Vaelin’s labored breathing, the faint brush of his shoulder against mine. Despite everything, a sense of solace nestles in me.

At some point, our gazes lock in the flickering shadows, a silent acknowledgment passing between us.We’re bound by more than circumstance now.That second moment of intimacy in the fortress changed everything. Fear still coils in my stomach—fear of what the Overlord will do next, of the Red Purnas’ looming threat, and of the gargoyles that stir in Protheka’s depths. But for the span of this night, I cling to the fragile connection that might see us through.

Eventually, exhaustion drags us under. Vaelin drapes an arm around me, his body trembling slightly from cold and pain. I whisper a minor warming spell, letting illusions cradle us in a cocoon of heat. Our shared breath mingles in the quiet, and I drift into a fitful sleep, lulled by the steady drum of his heartbeat beneath my ear.We’re alive. We’re together. For now, that’s enough.

Morning will bring new horrors. The Overlord’s forces surely hunt us already, and the fragile severance of Vaelin’s bond might not hold forever. Yet in the hush of predawn, as we lie entwined under a battered cloak, I dare to hope we’ve carved out a chance—to stand against the Overlord, to thwart the Red Purnas, and perhaps to shape a fate that defies the prophecy’s grim promise.

When my eyes finally close, I dream of silver wings and bright illusions, of Vaelin’s murmured gratitude, and the faint glimmer of sunrise across an uncharted horizon.

14

VAELIN

Iguide Elira through the narrow crevice, one arm braced against slick stone, the other supporting her weary steps. We’ve traveled the better part of the day—shrouded by illusions whenever we dared cross open ground—and now the last rays of dusk fade across the mountains. The wind’s chill seeps into my muscles, aggravating my half-healed injuries. My mind churns with jumbled thoughts, but I force my body onward.We need shelter.

At last, the crevice broadens into a shadowy cavern. Its yawning mouth gapes beneath an overhang of jagged rock, half-concealed by a tumble of boulders. Inside, the air tastes of damp earth and lingering darkness. It’s not cozy or welcoming, but it’ll offer cover for the night. My breath hitches as I recall what the Overlord did to me—what he revealed about my gargoyle blood. A pang of self-loathing mixes with an odd yearning that stirs whenever I’m near Elira.I am a walking contradiction.

She leans against me, shoulder pressing into my side, quiet exhaustion marking her every movement. My chest constricts at how her body trembles, still recovering from the intense magic she unleashed to free me from the Overlord’s control. I haven’t forgotten the closeness we shared, the merging of minds and hearts that still blazes in my memory.But after all that, can I truly stand beside her? I’m part monster.

We pause in the cavern’s entrance. The meager light from the clouded moon trickles inside, enough for my keen Dark Elf sight to discern a wide rocky chamber sloping downward. Loose rubble litters the floor, hinting at ancient collapses. “Careful,” I murmur, voice raw. “Stay behind me in case the ground’s unstable.”

Elira nods, the faint shimmer of her illusions flickering around us. “I’ll conjure a bit of light,” she says softly. Even that small act seems to strain her. She raises her hand, summoning a pale orb that glows with a mellow warmth. The cavern’s walls come into focus—streaked with mineral deposits, glistening with trickles of moisture.

I help her settle onto a low shelf of rock, then let go, stepping back to confirm the cave is empty. My side aches at the slightest shift, a dull reminder of every violent confrontation, every ill-advised mission to corner her.Or rescue her? The lines blur.

I exhale, scanning for signs of animals or hidden threats. The echoes of dripping water and a faint scuttling from deeper within suggest bats or harmless rodents, nothing more. “We can rest here,” I say quietly, returning to her side. “It’s out of sight, and it doesn’t reek of predators.”

She nods, brushing damp hair from her cheek. “Thank you,” she murmurs, meeting my gaze for a heartbeat before looking away. Our eyes carry the weight of unspoken tension.We’ve been so close, yet so much remains uncertain.

I crouch, rummaging through the satchel I grabbed during our hasty escape. Most of my supplies vanished in Orthani’s fortress, but I managed to salvage a few scraps of dried rations, plus a small flint for sparks. My movements feel mechanical, yet my mind is a roiling storm.The Overlord’s experiments. The cursed orb. My monstrous lineage.

Elira shifts on the rock ledge, wincing as she massages her shoulder. Guilt seizes my gut. “Is the wound from earlier bothering you?” I ask, forcing gentleness into my tone.

She gives a tired half-smile. “It aches, but I’ll manage. You’re the one who endured that blasted orb’s torment.” Her voice quivers with concern.

I swallow. Her compassion stings me in ways I can’t articulate. “I’m—” My words catch in my throat.I’m fine? I’m not fine at all.“I’ll survive.” I stare at the rough ground, an uncomfortable heaviness settling over my heart.

The silence stretches, broken only by dripping water. Finally, I gather the courage to speak. “Elira,” I say, almost a whisper. She turns her head, luminous eyes reflecting the orb’s glow. “You risked everything to save me,” I continue, my voice trembling with unmasked gratitude. “I… don’t understand why.”

She inhales slowly, as though centering herself. “Because it felt… necessary,” she admits. “I couldn’t just leave you there, not after—” She cuts herself off, her cheeks flushing at the memory of our frantic closeness.

That single, unfinished sentence ignites confusing emotions in my chest. Tenderness, guilt, fear.I am undeserving of her rescue. I’m half-gargoyle, a creature the Overlord molded into a lethal weapon.The revelations churn anew, fueling my self-loathing.

She picks at a loose thread on her sleeve, teeth worrying her lower lip. “I can sense you pulling away, Vaelin. Please… talk to me.”

I clench my fists, gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m trying,” I admit, voice hoarse. “But everything I thought I knew about myself is a lie. The Overlord… he told me how I was created, that my blood is tainted with gargoyle essence. I’m not fully Dark Elf. I’m a… monster.” I let the final word hang, bitterness lacing every syllable.

She flinches as if slapped. “You’re not?—”

“How can you say that?” I snap, rising to my feet in a sudden surge of frustration. My wounded side protests, but I ignore the pain. “You haven’t seen what lies beneath my skin. The Overlord has a leash on me, Elira. He can yank that power any time he chooses, turn me into a mindless beast that obeys his will. If not for you, I’d already be lost. I left the city days ago, but they caught me while I was in the watch tower.”

She pushes off the rock ledge, illusions flickering around her as though they share her agitation. “But you fought back,” she insists, stepping closer. “You risked everything to break free of him. And you wouldn’t be here if you were a monster.”

My jaw tightens, resentment tangling with shame. “That’s the problem. I am a monster who wants to be something else. But wanting doesn’t change the reality.” My voice echoes, the cavern amplifying the bitter edge.

Her gaze flickers over me, heartbreak visible in her eyes. She lifts a hand, hesitates, then carefully touches my forearm. “Vaelin… maybe you carry gargoyle blood, but what I’ve witnessed in you is more than that. Compassion. Courage. You saved me from the Red Purnas, from monstrous beasts. You let me go when you could have dragged me to Orthani.”

I swallow a lump in my throat, mind drifting to the memory of letting her slip through my grasp instead of delivering her to the Overlord. “That was… I didn’t want to see you hurt,” I admit, voice raw. “I care about you more than I care about obeying him.”

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