The stars are still out, though the sun threatens the horizon with its first gold blade.

We won. Not the war—just the battle. Just enough time to breathe. The others sleep in tents and ruined halls, but she doesn’t. Aria.

She’s standing at the edge of the cliffs above the shattered coast, hair unbound, wind curling it like smoke. Her cloak flaps open around her, and for one stupid, heart-wrenching moment, I think she might leap.

But she doesn’t.

She just watches the sea, like she’s afraid if she looks anywhere else, the world will tilt again.

I step beside her, careful not to speak until I’m sure she won’t disappear.

“You didn’t sleep,” I say.

Her eyes stay fixed ahead. “Neither did you.”

I almost smile. Of course she noticed. She always does.

There’s silence between us. Not the heavy kind we used to share when hatred hung between every breath, but something more fragile. Something waiting.

I draw a breath, sharp and cold.

“The day you’ve been waiting for has finally arrived,” I say, voice low. “He’s dead. Your mother is avenged. The Hollow Twin didn’t take you.”

Her jaw tenses. “So why don’t I feel victorious?”

I look at her then—really look. The blood on her boots. The dried cut on her cheek. The way her hands are curled at her sides like she doesn’t trust them anymore.

I want to reach for her. I don’t.

Instead, I ask, “What do you feel?”

She hesitates. “Like there’s nothing left. Like I was only ever meant to reach this moment, and now I don’t know who I am.”

I let the silence stretch, then finally step closer.

“I know who you are.”

That makes her look at me.

“Stormbird,” I murmur, and her breath catches. “You’re the girl who held a knife to my throat before she knew my name. Who faced monsters in the dark and still chose to save me. You’re fire and ruin and something I was never supposed to want.”

I stop myself—too late. But I don’t take it back.

Her eyes go wide. “Alec…”

“I know,” I whisper. “You hate me. You’re supposed to. Your whole life, everything that’s happened… it should make this impossible.”

I step forward again. She doesn’t move away.

“But the day I met you was the day everything in me started unraveling. And tonight, when you almost died—I realized something.”

“What?”

“I would burn this entire godsdamned kingdom to the ground if it meant keeping you alive.”

Her breath shudders out of her. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” I reach for her hand. “But I won’t. Because I think you still want to save it. And if you asked me to, I’d help you do it.”

She doesn’t pull away.

A beat passes. Two.

Then—softly, like it hurts—“You’re the last thing I expected.”

I nod. “Same.”

Her fingers tighten around mine.

She doesn’t say she feels the same. Not yet.

But she doesn’t let go.

And for now, that’s enough.