Towards our forever

Luna's POV

The night was quiet after too much noise.

The campfires burned low, each one a small island of light in the valley’s dark sea. Survivors had curled into cloaks and makeshift tents.

A few guards kept watch at the edges, but for the first time in days, the air didn’t feel like it was holding its breath.

Kael and I sat a little apart from the others, near a fire that had burned down to red coals.

He leaned back against a stone, his legs stretched, his sword lying close by. His eyes weren’t scanning the trees for once - they were on me.

“You’re staring,” I whispered.

He tilted his head. “Maybe I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” His mouth curved. “And because I’ve been waiting for a quiet night to do it.”

I rolled my eyes, but heat warmed my cheeks. “You’re impossible.”

He shifted, patting his lap. “Then come here, impossible girl.”

I hesitated, glancing at the shadows of people sleeping not far off. “Kael-”

“They’re asleep,” he said softly. “And I’m asking nicely.”

Something in his voice made my chest ache. I gave in. I moved closer, and he caught my waist, steady and sure, pulling me into his lap like I belonged there.

I settled against him, my back against his chest. His arms slid around me, one across my stomach, the other curling at my hip.

The warmth of him soaked into me until I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began.

“This is better,” he murmured, brushing his lips against the top of my hair.

“Too comfortable,” I said, pretending to grumble.

“Good.” His chin rested on my shoulder. “You deserve comfortable.”

For a while we just sat like that, listening to the fire crackle. His heart beat steady against my back.

“What will we do after this?” I asked quietly.

“After?”

“When the mountain stops shaking. When the banners are gone. When it’s just us.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then, softly: “We build.”

“Build what?”

“A home. Doesn’t matter how small. Four walls. A door. A bed.” He chuckled under his breath. “Definitely a bed.”

I smiled. “You’re obsessed with beds.”

“Only because I want you in one.” His lips brushed my ear. “Where you can sleep without waking at every howl.”

I swallowed hard. “And if forever is just one day?”

“Then I want that day,” he said instantly. His voice was rough, sure. “I want forever with you, even if forever is just one day.”

My eyes stung. I turned in his lap until I could face him. His hands slid up my back, steadying me as I leaned close. His face was inches from mine, his eyes dark and soft all at once.

“You mean that?” I whispered.

“With everything I am.”

I kissed him.

It was soft, not desperate - slow and sure, like we finally had time to breathe. His lips moved against mine with a tenderness that stole all the broken edges from the night.

When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm.

“I don’t need crowns,” he said. “I don’t need titles. I don’t need a mountain that thinks it’s a god. I just need you.”

“Then you have me,” I whispered. “Every part. Every scar.”

His hand cupped my cheek. “Then I’m whole.”

I laughed a little, even as tears blurred my vision. “You’re too good at this.”

“Not good,” he murmured. “Just true.”

We stayed like that, wrapped in each other, while the fire faded to embers.

For the first time in too long, I let myself imagine a tomorrow where we woke with sunlight on our faces instead of smoke in our lungs.

Just as sleep began to pull at me, a sound rolled across the valley.

Low. Long.

A howl.

It echoed off the ridges, carried by the night air, not close, but not far enough either.

Every hair on my arms rose. Around the camp, I saw heads lift, shoulders stiffen, children press closer to their mothers.

Kael’s arms tightened around me. “Not tonight,” he said firmly, his lips against my hair. “Whoever that is, whatever it is, not tonight.”

I closed my eyes and clung to him. For now, we had each other.

And for now, that was enough.