Page 69 of Bound In Shadow

“Better than I was,” I admit, voice soft. “Though I might collapse if we push another day like this without rest.”

He nods, scanning the orchard fighters. “We’ll set a proper camp soon, one we can defend. If the outriders come, we’ll be ready.”

A hush envelops us, broken only by the crackle of the small fire. For a moment, I study his face—bruised cheek, shadows under his eyes, war sigils partially obscured by grime. My heart thrums with a mix of empathy and raw affection.He sacrificed everything—throne, comfort, safety—to stand with me.I recall the orchard stable, the orchard illusions, how he never faltered.

I step closer, reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm. “Xelith,” I begin, voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “I don’t know if I ever truly thanked you. For refusing to hand me over to the council when it would’ve been so easy. For standing by me, even when it cost you your inheritance.”

He lifts his free hand, covering mine. The warmth of his touch seeps through me. “We stand or fall together,” he murmurs, repeating the oath we’ve shared a hundred times. Then, voice tight with feeling, he adds, “I’m certain of that.”

A swirl of fierce protectiveness and love surges in me, almost overwhelming. I want to fling my arms around him, bury my face in his chest, let the orchard rebels see that we are more than allies.But I hold back.We have many eyes on us, and though none would truly mind, I sense that Xelith might prefer a moment of privacy for any deeper show of affection.

Still, I slip my hand in his, interlocking our fingers. “I won’t leave you,” I whisper, eyes gleaming with resolve. “Ever. If the entire council hunts us to the edges of Protheka, I’m at your side.”

He exhales, relief and tenderness softening his features. “I was afraid, once, that you’d slip away to spare me. Or that you’d realize how dangerous it is, staying with me. But hearing you say that… it means everything.”

I tighten my grip, lips curving in a quiet smile. “We face the future as partners, Xelith. Nothing less.”

Satisfied, he dips his head, pressing a brief kiss to my knuckles. Warmth floods my face. Our orchard watchers politely avert their eyes, though I notice a few orchard rebels exchanging subtle smiles. Let them see. This bond is no secret. If we are to unify humans and Dark Elves, our unity must be visible.

Night fully descends, the stars scattered in the velvet sky. Our people eat a meager supper, settle around the small fire for warmth. The orchard rebels stand closer to the exiled Dark Elves than I ever thought possible, sharing stories of old farmland battles, cursing the council’s tyranny. A fragile camaraderie grows among them, nurtured by the shared victory at Pyrthos. My illusions and Xelith’s shadows remain uncast now, letting the night’s calm reign.

We set a rotation for watch. Takar insists I rest, pointing out how much magic I expended enthralling the fortress guards. Xelith agrees, guiding me gently to a spot near the fire, where he lays out a cloak as a makeshift bed. My cheeks warm at the gesture, but my body is too drained to protest.

I curl up on the cloak, eyes drifting shut. Over the crackle of flames, I hear orchard rebels discussing how different everything feels—how they never thought to see a Dark Elf noble champion their cause. Another voice wonders if the council will regroup, possibly sending a legion to crush us. A pang ofdread ripples through me.We can’t dwell on that tonight.I am exhausted. Sleep claims me swiftly.

—

I awaken hours later, the fire reduced to embers. Soft starlight illuminates the orchard clearing. My back aches, and my illusions swirl faintly in my half-asleep mind, vestiges of a dream where I enthrall armies with a single word. I jolt upright, breath catching.It’s just a dream.The orchard fighters remain slumbering around me, Takar stands watch on the perimeter, and Xelith is absent. My heart skips.Where is he?

Quietly, I push to my feet, padding away from the sleeping forms. I find him a short distance from the clearing, perched on a fallen log, gazing at the moonlit farmland. Shadows swirl faintly around his hands, a sign he’s lost in thought or wrestling with emotion.

“Can’t sleep?” I ask softly, stepping up behind him.

He glances over his shoulder, letting the shadows dissipate. “Not really,” he admits, voice hoarse with fatigue. “Too many ghosts in my head.”

I settle beside him on the log, knees brushing his. The orchard hushes around us, trees rustling in a midnight breeze. “I know what you mean,” I confess. “I keep seeing the fortress halls, the enthralled guards, the terror in their eyes.”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I recall Kalthos’s staff, Sharavel’s final curses… We’ve stepped beyond any hope of returning to the old ways. We’re truly outcasts.”

A lump forms in my throat.Yes, we are.“I can’t regret it,” I say, voice quivering. “Not when the farmland stands freer for it. But it weighs on me.”

He nods. “We’ll carry the cost. But we’ll also shape a new reality for those orchard enclaves who still cower.” Slowly, he lifts his gaze to mine, silver eyes reflecting starlight. “And I have no regrets about choosing you.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I feel the same,” I whisper. Then, my breath hitches. “I was so scared you’d see me as monstrous after that final enthrallment. That you’d decide the council was right about me.”

He shakes his head, reaching to clasp my hand. “Never. I saw a woman who’d do whatever it took to save her people—our people, now. I saw you wield your power for defense, not cruelty.”

Relief and gratitude flood me, words caught in my throat. I squeeze his hand, letting silence carry the weight of our emotions. The orchard’s hush surrounds us, wind rustling leaves overhead.

After a moment, he slides closer on the log, leaning in until our shoulders touch. “We won’t let them recast us as villains,” he murmurs, a quiet intensity in his voice. “They’ll try, but the orchard enclaves know the truth. We fought for them, not for power.”

I nod, blinking away tears. Warmth spreads through my chest at his closeness. He’s not a typical Dark Elf noble, not anymore—he’s an exiled prince who laid everything on the line for an impossible dream: that humans and Dark Elves can stand side by side, free from chains.

His gaze flicks to my mouth, and my pulse flutters. Even now, battered and exhausted, a flicker of desire stirs. But I quell it, acknowledging the hour, the battered state of our people. “We should rest,” I murmur, voice thick. “Tomorrow, we continue south to find safer ground.”

He exhales, a ghost of a laugh. “Yes. Sleep is wise.”

Yet neither of us moves, bound by an unspoken need to reaffirm our bond. Gently, he raises our joined hands, pressing my knuckles to his lips in a fleeting kiss. The simple gesture sends a soothing tingle through me. He glances away, cheeks flushing faintly in the moonlight.Even after everything, he canstill be shy in these quiet moments.The thought warms me more than the fire ever could.

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