The music shifted, the tempo slowing, the melody becoming softer, more intimate. The couples on the dance floor swayed together, their movements languid, their faces soft with the joy of the celebration. The torches flickered, casting long shadows on the stone walls, and the scent of pine and woodsmoke filled the air.
Kaelen's hand found mine beneath the table. His fingers were warm, calloused, and steady. He did not speak, did not ask, did not need to. He simply rose, pulling me gently to my feet, and led me to the center of the hall.
The other dancers parted for us, creating a space that was ours alone. I felt their eyes on us—warm, approving, hopeful—but I could not look away from him. His winter-grey eyes held mine, and in them, I saw everything. The fear he had carried, the relief that the battle was over, the love that had been growing between us since the dungeon.
