Page 47 of Crowned By the Shadow
“I hate this,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “I hate watching her suffer while I can do nothing.”
Wyn’s twilight eyes softened with understanding. “You do more than you know, Thorn. Your bond sustains her in ways none of us can see, but all of us can feel.”
I wanted to believe that. Needed to believe that my presence made a difference, that our love was strong enough to hold back the darkness. But doubt gnawed at me, persistent and poisonous.
“What if it’s not enough?” The question escaped before I could stop it. “What if I’m not enough?”
Wyn reached out, her hand cool against my arm. Where her fingers touched, I felt a strange balance—neither the warmth of life nor the chill of death, but something in between. Twilight magic, newly born from her transformation.
“Love is never wasted,” she said with quiet certainty. “Even when it cannot save, it sustains. Even when it cannot protect, it comforts. Your bond with Senara may not be enough to defeat the Empress alone, but it gives her strength no artifact could provide.”
Her words eased something tight in my chest. Not completely, the fear and doubt lingered, but it was enough that I could breathe more freely.
“Thank you,” I said simply.
She nodded, withdrawing her hand. “We should wake the others. There’s much to discuss before we decide our next move.”
As Wyn moved to rouse Ronan, I turned back to Senara. Her eyes were already open, watching me with a mixture of affection and concern.
“How long have you been awake?” I asked, wondering how much of my conversation with Wyn she’d overheard.
“Long enough,” she replied, sitting up slowly. She reached for my hand, her fingers threading through mine. “You are enough, Thorn. Never doubt that.”
So she had heard. I should have known. Our bond made it difficult to truly hide anything from each other, especially strong emotions.
“The corruption—” I began, but she cut me off with a gentle squeeze of my hand.
“Is a problem for another moment,” she said firmly. “Right now, we need to focus on our next steps. On finding Van and Volker, on understanding the artifacts, on preparing for the convergence.”
Always thinking of others, always pushing her own pain aside to focus on the greater good. It was one of the things I loved most about her, and one of the things that terrified me most. That selflessness could so easily become self-sacrifice.
“Promise me something,” I said, holding her gaze.
“What?”
“That you won’t face this alone. That you’ll let me help carry the burden, whatever it may be.”
She studied me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. Then she nodded, a small but genuine smile touching her lips.
“I promise,” she said. “Whatever comes next, we face it together.”
It wasn’t everything I wanted. It wasn’t a guarantee of her safety, wasn’t a solution to the corruption threading through her mark, but it was enough for now. A promise that, whatever sacrifices lay ahead, she wouldn’t shut me out.
As we joined the others to discuss our plans, I felt a strange mix of dread and determination. The path ahead was darker than ever, the stakes higher, the odds longer. But we were together, bound by choice and fate, love and necessity.
And in that bond lay our greatest strength, and perhaps, our only hope against the darkness to come.
Chapter
Fifteen
Senara
I sat up carefully, still groggy from sleep, and still feeling somewhat drained from everything that had happened, but I couldn’t wait any longer and reached for the Veilshard Pendant around my neck. Its familiar weight centered me as I held it between my palms, feeling its subtle warmth against my skin.
We needed to find Van and Volker. They had gone to scout the Obsidian Keep while Thorn and I went after the Mirror, but we’d found no sign of them during our rescue of Wyn. Were they still there, possibly captured? Or had they escaped and were now searching for us?
I closed my eyes, focusing on the pendant’s energy. With Wyn safe, I could turn my attention to our other missing companions. I pictured Van’s face, his knowing smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he was amused. Then Volker’s more serious countenance, his scholarly demeanor masking a surprising fierceness.
