“Here, Roar. Let me see.” Liv yanks the hem up. Over my head. Off. The cool night against my skin feels like heaven. Liv’s fingers skimming over my chest feel even better.

I suck in a breath as the sting flares. Peering down, I watch her thumb run across a nick that’s about two inches long. Right over my heart, but shallow.

“It’s nothing,” she says with relief. “Barely a scratch.”

I knew that—I hardly feel it—but I can’t resist. “So I get ‘barely a scratch’ when I’m hurt, but Perry gets a half-hour examination?”

“No,” Liv says. “You get this.” She wraps her arms around me and kisses me. It’s a long kiss, and more than a little desperate. We’re both still scared, but my hands grow surer on her body. It’s not long before we’re both breathing fast again.

“Liv,” I say. “I wanted you to be able to choose on your own. I didn’t want to force you. I haven’t asked because I never want to put pressure on you—”

“Shhh . . .” she says. “I know, Roar.”

I rest my forehead against hers. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Her gaze drops to my mouth, and I feel her breath when she whispers, “I love you, Roar. I always will.”

We find a place to burrow together in the shelter of a pine tree, hidden beneath branches that look timeless. Our nerves are still with us, but there’s something more now. A pull that’s always been between us. That’s only gotten stronger with every day that I’ve known her. I hold her and tell her about all the days we’re leaving behind us, calling up stories, all the memories that are ours, until her laughter fades to the quiet rhythm of her breath as she sleeps.

Then I kiss the top of her head, feeling steady. Feeling full.

The past is behind us now. Tomorrow, we start our future.

I know she’s gone before I open my eyes. I know because I’m calling for her as I wake and look around me. Her satchel is gone, her sword and sheath, but I still feel the weight of her head against my chest and the warmth she left behind.

I call for her, yelling, though I know it won’t matter. Liv made her choice. She didn’t pick me or Sable or the Tides. She chose time. I don’t know how I’m sure, but I am. Liv always runs when she needs to think.

I call her name anyway, yelling to the trees and to the Aether. I don’t stop until I lose my voice and no sound comes out of me anymore. Then I pick up my satchel and pull it over my shoulder.

I’ll give her time, but I won’t give up. Ever.

Through the Ever Night

DEDICATION