Elle POV
I don’t ask the question right away.
I let it settle inside me, heavy and unshaped, as Blake leads me back toward the mountain. The wind from the plateau still clings to my skin, cold and sharp, carrying the echo of voices raised in strategy and threat. Words that feel too big to belong to me linger in my mind—king, crown, custom, challenge.
They don’t feel real yet.
They feel like stories.
But stories have a way of becoming blood.
Blake’s hand is wrapped around mine, firm and steady, and I focus on that sensation as my thoughts threaten to scatter. His grip isn’t possessive. It’s grounding. Anchoring. Like he knows the world beneath me is shifting and refuses to let me be swept away by it.
The fortress looms ahead, dark stone rising from the mountainside like something an
