The rain finally relented as they reached the edge of the Shadowed Vale. The land rose again into gentle hills dotted with ancient stone arches and crumbling walls, the last remnants of a long-forgotten monastery. Dawn light filtered through thinning clouds, turning everything soft gold and gray. Alix felt the shift in the air first: the oppressive weight of the vale lifting, replaced by something quieter, almost mournful.
"This place," she said softly. "It was a sanctuary once. For those who had nowhere else to go."
Donstram scanned the horizon, sword still in hand. "Looks abandoned now."
"Exactly." She pointed to the largest archway ahead, half-collapsed but still standing. "No one comes here. Not even hunters. Too many ghosts."
He gave her a sidelong look. "More ghosts?"
"Memories," she corrected. "The monastery was built on neutral ground. Royals and covens used to meet here to negotiate peace. Until the Broken Pact."
Donstram was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "We rest. One night. Then we move again."
They passed under the arch into what had once been a central courtyard. Weeds pushed through cracked flagstones. A dry fountain stood in the middle, its basin filled with dead leaves. Around the edges were small cells, their doors long rotted away. One larger building remained mostly intact: the chapter house, its roof sagging but holding.
They chose a room at the back. It had a narrow window overlooking the hills, a stone hearth, and enough space for two people to lie down without touching. If they wanted distance.
They did not want distance.
Donstram dropped his pack and began gathering dry wood from broken furniture. Alix watched him move: the efficient way he stacked kindling, the flex of muscle under his shirt, the faint scars that caught the light when he bent. The bond carried his quiet contentment, a rare thing. He was not thinking of danger right now. He was thinking of her.
She stepped behind him, pressed her chest to his back, and wrapped her arms around his waist.
He stilled. "Alix."
"Stop working," she murmured against his shoulder. "Just for a minute."
His hands covered hers. "We should keep watch."
"The bond will wake us if anything comes close." She kissed the side of his neck. "Let me have this."
He exhaled slowly, tension bleeding from his shoulders. He turned in her arms, cupped her face, and kissed her. Slow this time. Deep. Like he was memorizing the taste of her.
When they broke apart, both were breathing unevenly.
"I keep waiting for it to feel wrong," he said quietly. "For the hatred to come back."
"Does it?"
"No." He traced her lower lip with his thumb. "It just... quiets."
She understood. The curse had fed on isolation and resentment. Now that they refused to give it those things, it weakened. Every shared breath, every touch, starved it a little more.
They made a small fire. Shared the last of their rations in silence. When the flames burned low, Donstram pulled her into his lap. She straddled him, knees bracketing his hips. Clothes came off slowly this time. No rush. No desperation. Just deliberate exploration.
He kissed every scar on her body: the thin line across her ribs from an old inquisitor's blade, the burn mark on her thigh from a binding spell gone wrong. She traced the jagged ones across his chest, the long slash along his ribs, the puckered circle on his shoulder from an arrow that had nearly ended him years ago.
"You should have died from this one," she whispered, pressing her lips to the scar.
"I almost did." His voice was rough. "Thought about letting it happen. Then I remembered my father. How he fought until the end. So I kept breathing."
She kissed him there again. "I'm glad you did."
He rolled them so she lay beneath him on the spread cloak. The firelight painted them in shifting gold and shadow. He entered her slowly, watching her face the entire time. When he was fully seated, he paused, letting them both feel it: the stretch, the fullness, the perfect fit.
Then he moved.
Long, rolling thrusts that made her arch and gasp. She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his lower back. Her hands roamed his shoulders, his arms, the strong column of his throat. When he dipped his head to take her nipple between his teeth, she cried out softly, fingers tangling in his hair.
The bond turned every sensation into shared ecstasy. She felt his pleasure building alongside hers. The tightening in his balls, the ache in his spine, the overwhelming need to bury himself deeper. He felt her fluttering around him, the sweet clench that made his rhythm falter.
"Come inside me," she breathed. "I want to feel you."
He groaned, hips snapping harder. Once. Twice. Then he buried his face in her neck as he spilled, hot and deep. The sensation triggered her own release: a slow, rolling wave that left her trembling beneath him.
They stayed joined for a long time after. Breathing together. Hearts beating in perfect time.
Eventually he rolled to the side, pulling her against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her back.
"Tell me something," he said quietly.
"Anything."
"What did the curse feel like before? When it was only you."
Alix thought for a moment. "Like living inside a glass box. I could see the world, but I couldn't touch it. Every time I tried, the glass cut me. After a while, I stopped trying."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And now?"
"Now the glass is cracking." She lifted her head to look at him. "Because of you."
He studied her face in the dying firelight. "I don't know how to do this. Being... close. To someone."
"Neither do I." She smiled faintly. "We're learning together."
He kissed her again, softer this time. Then he pulled the cloak over them both.
Sleep came easily for the first time in years.
Unique insight drifted through Alix's mind as she slipped toward dreams: Sanctuary was not a place. It was a choice. Two people deciding, against all reason and history, to build something safe between them. The curse had never accounted for that. It had never imagined love could be stronger than solitude.
Outside, the night was quiet.
No horns.
No footsteps.
Just the soft sound of rain on stone, and two hearts beating as one.