𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 | 𝟏𝟖+

lviii. the calm before.

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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑. Well, it's her corridor too, shared amongst the alpha and luna of Tabrien.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She leans against the wall just outside of Morrow's study. The door remains shut, open just a hair as the sounds of him and Ronyn filter out. Lately, Morrow's been spending hours upon hours in there, stashing himself away when he isn't training or spending time with his mate. He doesn't come down for meals, but does eat if Elowen brings up a plate. At first, she feared he might be drowning in his own guilt. He was the one that tore away her wings. No matter how many times she reminds him that it's not his fault, he still feels the need to take responsibility for it.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎But her wings...

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The longing for her wings burdened her just days after they'd located Ronyn, Arion, and the rest of the were outside of Pailon. The group was still waiting at the fae temple, more confused with Morrow's disappearance than hurt by the blight. Ronyn was pretty beat up about losing Morrow to Rhimme, saying that the 'damned asshole from hell' came in too soon while they were asleep, snatched him up, and left back into his shadows. Many of them took note of her lack of wings. None of them asked, but she knows Morrow told them somewhere in the night.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow carried her in her arms while he took the skies from Pailon back to Tabrien, a journey filled with tears that she couldn't do it on her own. The familiarity of the winds only remind her that the heavens are where she belongs, where she and her inner creature can thrive. All of that was taken away from her in Rhimme's brutality.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎So every night since then, Morrow became her wings. They'd spend at least an hour in the sky just the two of them, her tucked away in his arms, and he basking in the presence of his mate. Some days, they fly in silence, while the next, they have to stop in a nearby meadow to talk because the words never stop.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen smiles when she hears Ronyn's laughter.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"C'mon sunshine, you've been in here for at least a week."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow grunts. "Does that bother you?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It does when I want to take my friend out to a bar and get plastered."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"We can get plastered here, you know."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She can almost visualise Ronyn's mischievous grin. "We can, can't we?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A cork pops off a bottle, followed by the slooshing of liquid against a pair of crystal glasses. It's not often that Morrow takes the time to drink, not like he used to. He only does it in company rather than alone. She's pretty sure the last time he got wasted like this was when Thorn stopped in to check on the two of them.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn regained consciousness days after they returned to Tabrien. Although rehabilitating back to normal, there's still lingering evidence of Rhimme's darkness within him. There's a hobble in his step now and a hideous scar across his sternum, but its the nightmares at night that keep him up. The further he strays from the flame, the worse they become. He agreed it was best for him to reside in Pailon and guard the flame, but that's not to say he won't make sparse visits.