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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑. Ever since Morrow left the sanctum, he's been distant. He vanished from every hall and room in the palace. Even when her creature swims down their bond to his wolf, she's found his aura caged off to her. It's clear he wants to be alone, unbothered by the weight of what horrors await for them.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Ronyn leans against the doorframe to Morrow's room, humming a tune as he kicks the dirt from his boots. When he hears Elowen approaching, he lifts his hazel eyes.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Why did he call us here if he's just going to lock the door?" Ronyn jeers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Maybe he's gone somewhere else." He could be far from the palace, flying away in the jetstreams to sort out his thoughts. If only she knew, but the alpha's closeted his mind with superb strength.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Oh, he's in there," Ronyn cocks his head to the door. "You can hear his violin if you listen closely."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She nears the door and presses her pointed ear against the wood, hearing the faint shrill of violin strings being skillfully strung by Morrow's bow. Elowen recognizes the tune immediately, as she recalls it in Morrow's memories of his past: Reovell's Requiem, a melody written by his mother on behalf of the wyng.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen releases a sigh. "He'll open the door when he's ready."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"That could be never," the beta shrugs and begins to pace the corridor. "Has he talked to you since this afternoon in the sanctum?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"No. In fact, I can hardly reach him down our bond."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"He shouldn't be doing this," he mumbles, continuing his wandering. "We're about to go on the most insane trip, and he chooses now to become silent. I know Morrow, and I know he's cold, but we might not have another goddamn night after this one."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A pang of guilt grows in the back of her throat, causing her to swallow and lose her words. The blight infections have surged so greatly in the last week that her journey to Pailon must be done now. She fears that if they wait much longer, there won't be were to return to in Tabrien, or fae in Yestrea. Hell knows what's happening beyond in Brecia, Scaerus, and Eshon. Her only wish is that she wouldn't have to take Morrow and his betas with her.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎When she meets Ronyn's hazel irises once more, she's sorry that he's spiralling for a life that suddenly seems so limited.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen reaches out, cupping the line of stubble on Ronyn's jaw. "This fight isn't over until it is." He presses his cheek to her palm in a nuzzle. "Until that time comes, if it ever does, we have to do what's right for the pack."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It's not about the pack anymore, half-breed," he mumbles. "If we get rid of Rhimme, we've just saved all of Aelethia."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The statement doesn't reassure her that all will be well. It only adds more to what's at stake.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Then maybe Alistair will have to stop invading Tabrien if we save his sorry ass from the blight."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎This pulls a smile from Ronyn's lips, a soft chuckle rumbling from his chest. "He won't make it ten feet in Tabrien before I sink my claws into that bastard's chest."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The door to Morrow's bedroom slowly pivots open, breaking their attention away from each other. As hinges creak, the were-wyng awaits them on the other side. He stands before them in the shell of a broken man, one just a sliver away from giving up completely. Messy charcoal hair. A sheen layer of sweat on his bare skin as his shirt remains strewn on the floor. Bloodshot meadowed eyes, tired yet sober—but not for long. In his ring-clad fingers he holds two bottles of fae wine, passing one bottle over to his beta, saying nothing as those black wings shelter him.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen meets Ronyn's eyes, shaking her head in dismay, but Ronyn only shrugs and pops the cork on his wine, drowning himself in a large swig.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She follows her mate into their bedroom, passing by his violin. The case is open on the floor near a stand of music, unlocked, but tenderly stored.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow takes a seat at the edge of the bed, lounging back so his wings drape against his dark silk sheets. In the glowing embers of his hearth, every rune and muscle on his abdomen and chest ripples in the orange glow.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"What are you doing?" she whispers under her breath. She doesn't need a bond to see the truth. He doesn't want to go to Pailon. "You're a mess."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The alpha bites the cork off his wine with his fanged teeth, a sheer presentation of power before taking a drink. "I am, but aren't we all?" he coos, then extends a finger towards her, motioning for her to come nearer. "I at least deserve one last drink with my mate and friend before everything goes to fucking shit."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She takes baby steps until she's standing between his thighs, where she then sits upon the muscle. He instinctively wraps a powerful bicep around her, delicate fingers tracing designs into her white wings. In that moment, the floodgates of his mind open wide, and she's taken in tides of warmth and compassion, smoothed with the note of a low toe-curling growl.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Mine.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A typical possessive confession, one that she adores to hear from her mate.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen turns to see Ronyn shoving a chair towards where Morrow sits, then plopping himself down. He kicks his head back, taking the largest gulp of wine she's seen. There's a slight heat to the beta's cheeks when he meets the eyes of his friend, but it only elevates the charming grin he flashes at the two of them.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It's been awhile since we've done this," Ronyn says. "I doubt you're planning on getting shitfaced like we usually do."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I fucking want to," Morrow mumbles, "but it won't be smart to go up against the strongest ancient ever known with a hangover."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"How many bottles you got? I could use a few."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The alpha crooks a brow. "How many is your limit before it gets to your big head?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Ronyn chuckles. "I don't got a limit. Even you know that."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You do," Morrow's hold around Elowen tenses, but the alpha's eyes never waver from his friend. When she reaches down into Morrow's mind, she's met with visions of red blood pouring from claw cuts upon veins. Closed eyes. Cold, pale skin. "There's something you should know before we go to Pailon."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You have the hots for me?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"No," he murmurs. "Keep dreaming."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎As Morrow pauses to take a drink of his wine, Elowen taps into their bond again, finding the underlings of ache. It begins as a small throbbing, but it soon invades every vessel in her body. It feels as if Morrow just strapped stones to her limbs, heaving every ounce of life from her bones. The visions in their bond continue, of bloodied hands carrying an equally bloody body down into a crypt, of mystic witches' spells rising what was lost back from the dead.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎If tonight is to be their last night of indulgence, then Morrow will spill every truth he's kept locked up. Long ago, he confessed that he held nine lives, but there was one that he gave away unbeknownst to all. In one of Ronyn's darkest hours, he found himself forfeiting his life to that gnawing dark shadow, consumed by his own longing. It was Morrow that brought him back, leaving the beta with no recollection of his downfall.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Do you remember when you left for Yestrea alone in search of your mate?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Ronyn smirks. "I know I spent many nights blacked out, but I do remember it."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow gulps. "You weren't blacked out. Not entirely."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"According to many of the fae, I was."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"That's not the full story," the alpha takes a long swig of his wine. He'll need it for what he's about to say, so unsure of how his best friend will react to the news. "Novus sent a messenger to me, telling me that you were acting like a drunken ass in his courts and wanted you gone. I went to retrieve you, and hell, you know what I found?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Oh gods, did you see me fuck a fae?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow's cheeks turn stone. "You were dead, Ronyn. I found you killed by your own claws."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎That cocky persona that Ronyn carries vanishes in seconds, his irises suddenly cloudy as if Morrow's confession lifted the fog from his memories. His claws tap against the edge of his bottle of fae wine, a tendon tightening and loosening as he swallows his friends' truth.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Bullshit," he snaps. "If that were true, then why am I sitting here with you?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Because I gave you one of my lives. I brought you to the witches, and they revived you."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A glint flares in Ronyn's hazel hues, a spark of denial and refusal to believe. "Then why can't I remember?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow sighs, taking another swig of his own wine. "I told them to take your memories. If you remembered why, I was afraid it might happen again."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A beat passes between the two, but all Elowen can feel is the raw tension vibrating between them. When her creature swims the room for their auras, she immediately retreats back to the comforts of Elowen, because everything remains in unsettled ruins.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Then why did it happen?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The alpha gulps, gripping Elowen even tighter than before. She shifts in his hold, but the authoritative growl that rumbles through his chest has her bound.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You left in search of your mate—"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I know that already!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"—but never found them. They're not in Yestrea. They're not here. But the need to have a partner took such a goddamn hold in you that you couldn't take it anymore, so you ended it all." Morrow sighs, his voice dropping to a sound so inaudible. "I'm... I'm sorry."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Ronyn shakes his head, scoffing at the thought of himself being dead, but as those hazel eyes glance between Elowen and Morrow so cosied up together, reality dawns on him. It's then she sees a fracture building inside of him, and Morrow only intends to pull it wide open.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I didn't believe it at first, but you know what?" Ronyn tips his head towards them. "I see why. Just when I think I've felt something of a matebond, she ends up being your mate. Isn't that almost humorous that fate can't let me be happy?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Again, Morrow pulls her closer. "She's not your mate, Ronyn."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"How come my entire body burns when she speaks to me, when she touches me, when she's in the same fucking room as me? When you're around, it's dimmer, but it's always still there. Even now!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen gulps, hoping that Morrow's meadowed hues might strike her silver. She's uncertain why he thought having her this close in the same room would be the perfect time to tell Ronyn this, but she's not in control of this moment. She adores Ronyn, but it was never the same beckoning pull that allowed her to fall with Morrow. It was always different, only because it never should've existed.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You have some of my blood in you," Morrow begins. "Ever since I brought you back, there's been minor changes in your behaviour. You're bolder than before because you hold my alpha's blood. Now you're feeling something for my mate that's not supposed to be there. But you're still you."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Ronyn downs the rest of his bottle, his claws gripping at the glass. A few beats of pressured silence pass, a tendon in the beta's neck tightening like a cord. It feels so palpable, like she can mould this moment into something else.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The empty wine bottle shatters in Ronyn's grip as he rises to his feet, knees snapping to attention. "I need some air."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow says nothing, just releases a growling hum as he stares at the broken shards of glass.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Ronyn saunters for the bedroom's entrance, hesitating before leaving. He looks over his shoulder towards the two of them, then shakes his head, a sign of surrender to something so out of his grasp.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Don't mess with my life again, Morrow," the beta grumbles. "Got that?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The were-wyng flinches at the words. He was protecting his life, or at least that's what he thought he was doing."Only if you come to me when you feel like you've lost it," the alpha answers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎With nothing more than a grunt, an unsure yes or no, Ronyn vanishes from the bedroom. Perhaps she hadn't noticed, but Elowen's nails leave marks into Morrow's bare shoulders, lines of concern etched into her face. Next to her, there's no one else but Ronyn who leaves such a massive indent on Morrow's life, and what if this secret Morrow kept from his beta breaks all forms of trust? What if something happens when they need his trust most?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow takes a large swig of wine, his sage hues drowsy as he reroutes his attention on his mate. The first signs of tipsiness seem to show as he lifts her up and adjusts her so her legs wrap around his torso. He leans back, lifting his calloused hand to brush back a fallen lock of maroon hair behind her pointed ear.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Still, Elowen can't shake the thought of Ronyn away. "You don't seem worried about him."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow smirks. "He'll be back."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You sound quite certain of that."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"He does this," he mumbles, his words slightly slurred. "I had to tell him, but that's not important right now."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The alpha leans in towards her lips, desiring a stolen kiss, but she presses her fingertips to his mouth before he can indulge in the passions of the night. There's only one way she'll learn what's going on in Morrow's head, and that's only if he'll let her into his mind. Fully. Without the tempting distraction of kisses and mating.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen looks away to her fingertips, letting one graze his shadowed black wings. "You're usually so put together, but this..."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Is not that."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Exactly," she lets her knuckles brush over the faint scar of her teeth, her claim on him. "Tell me what's wrong, because in the morning, we both need to have a clear mind."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow gulps, setting his near emptied bottle of wine to the ground so he can pull her in closer. He gives his wings a good flap, then continues to lounge further against his sheets, dragging her along with him.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎When the firefly glow of his eyes strike hers, there's only one word that consumes his thoughts. She gasps, prying slightly away from his embrace, because they've hardly discussed it. Yet, isn't it logical for him to desire this one thing when they could be dying from the blight?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She tethers her mind to his thoughts, the solo word haunting her with a soft dominance he refuses to shake.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Pups.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He wants to expand his pack.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎But why now of all times? Right before they're about to leave for Pailon? Right when they'll be separated if they can't maintain their bond?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow leans in, his breath caressing her ear, sending pebbles of heat down her skin. "Let's make a baby, sparrow."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Where is this coming from? If this has been lingering for longer than a few days, then he's done an immaculate job at hiding his thoughts. She never suspected it, never let her mind venture off into the unknown like he does.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He buries his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder, soft kisses blinding her logic. She searches for an explanation, but the word only screams in their bond: Pups. Pups. Pups. Sparrow. Pups. Pups. Mine. All mine.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Are you sure of this?" she breathes into the cloves of his charcoal hair.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He hums, teeth grazing against her pulse. "I can't... I can't stop it anymore. It might be instinct, but if there's only one night left before I lose you, then..."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She scratches behind his ear. "It'll only hurt more if I don't come back."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Nails grip into her thighs, pulling her a little closer. There's a refusal to part from her, because parting would mean losing what he values most.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Then don't tell me what you choose," he whimpers in a sound so unlike his own. "It's your choice. It's your magic."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her magic. Her decision to will a child of their own into this twisted corruption storming their kingdom. It's all up to her.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Another kiss against her skin has her mind spinning in cyclones, and she finds herself submitting to his demands to mate for one last night. As clothes shed into burning skin, she could care less about the next day's adventures into treachery. The fiasco will forever keep knotting her in, when all she longs to do is unravel from it, to find a way to free herself and the kingdom.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Yet, her mind can only think about Morrow. Broken, desperate Morrow, drunk on fae wine as a way to numb his true pains. What Morrow longs for is a moment he can treasure in his mind for eternity, a tattoo of him and her as one. Through hitched breaths and howlish moans, she lets him believe that he's fulfilling his duty as an alpha were, to bring them an heir deserving of their throne. It's what he wants. It's what he believes will fix it all.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎But she's not ready. Not for pups. Not for babies.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Not yet.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It's all too soon.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She wishes she could stop time, stop everything. The seconds will keep ticking down until sunrise, because ready or not, there's a province of ancients waiting for her arrival.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Yet, somewhere between Morrow's nuzzles and her anxiety-driven heartbeat, she finds her body forfeiting itself to fatigue as she falls asleep in the haven of their sheets.

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*

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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐀𝐒  they both remain swaddled in a blanket of black and white wings. Limbs remain entangled, bodies morphed to fit into the crevasses of the other. Even their breaths remain synchronised to inhale and exhale in matrimony.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It's the soft knocking of the door that alerts the alpha. Elowen knows he hasn't slept a dime, unlike her own self. He's been awake, growling in that low soothing note to soothe her back to her dreams.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He unlaces his body from around hers, shucking on a pair of trousers before opening his bedroom door.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The alpha releases a low chuckle. "I fucking knew you'd be back."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A few seconds pass, and Elowen feels the weight of a wolf curl up at the foot of the bed. She peaks open an eye, only to see Ronyn's wolf already cosied up to their top quilt, his large wolfish body melting into the warmth of the bed.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A moment later, the were-wyng rejoins her back in their bed, only to fall asleep for the first time in the night within minutes. This is how it should be every night. No fears. No worries. Just them and their beta who thinks he's a puppy sometimes.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Only now, she lies awake, because this perfect world they've formed is about to shatter to pieces as their final night comes to dawn.

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sorry for making you all wait but i have some good news! we're traveling to Pailon for the second time, but this time we'll actually go inside of it, not just stand at the barrier and look at it from the outside. i'm super excited to FINALLY write this part of the story.

thanks for being patient and sticking it out with Sparrow! i know i can be inconsistent, but progress is progress :)

ivy <3