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“I will come talk to the First with you.”

“Thank you.” She held him tightly, soaking up all the comfort and hope, before she’d have to tuck it all away deep inside as they continued on.

Iryana’s knee bounced relentlessly as she sat across from her grandmother, between Pyetar and her Uncle Dinhal. Both men kept glancing at her knee, but she couldn’t help it.

The Endless Moon was already halfway over, and in the week she’d been gone, there had been two attacks on the post. Both were from small packs of dakii that had made a beeline straight for their hanging valley, as if they could sense them. The post was successful in fighting them off without any casualties, but everyone was still a bit shaken.

Leading Pyetar into the post, into the First’s study had been… tense. Her clan had the good sense to keep their mouths shut, but she was sure they were all out there gossiping and whispering about him now. At least her uncle and grandmother had been able to put their prejudice aside for the meeting.

“Alright, I think that’s settled,” the First sighed.

They’d been in there for hours going over the new information. Making plans and deciding what they would say to the other clans, the brigades, and the duchess. They’d have to brief the rest of the clan, and then Iryana would write missives all night long.

Two months. They had to hold out for two months and then… Iryana didn’t know. It wasn’t worth thinking about.

Pyetar straightened. “When I inform the settlements around the 18th’s territory, I will make sure they understand retreating is the best solution. Myura River Fortress is farther from the center of the valley than any of the 18th’s other holdings, I suspect it will be the safest space for everyone. And if it’s not…” Pyetar trailed off.

“We will talk to the duchess and the other clans,” Iryana reminded him. “The more we can send up into the Sky Valley, the better. I’m sure they will understand the necessity of it.”

The First didn’t look too confident. “Hopefully the fort is far enough out of the way.”

“I should get back to the fort,” Pyetar said.

“Yes, thank you, General. I’m glad you were able to join us for this. It was more efficient, better than a dozen letters back and forth.” Her grandmother’s words were a bit awkward, but they weren’t as forced sounding as Iryana expected.

Pyetar stood to leave, and Iryana watched him, tense.

“Dinhal, can you gather the clan? See if we can cover those on watch?” Vesima asked.

“Of course, First.” Dinhal tilted his head toward her respectfully and then slipped out of the room.

Iryana followed the First out of the study, watching Pyetar carefully. Seeing him surrounded by the hangings, paintings, and other decorations she associated so strongly with her clan was strange.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” she told her grandmother, who gave a terse nod before heading toward the hall.

Pyetar hesitated in the hallway, looking back at her. They were alone now.

She faced him, hands tightly clasped behind her back.

Even windburned and exhausted as he was, Pyetar was handsome. She tried to memorize him. Those sleepy, hooded eyes. The chiseled definition of his cheekbones and jawline, despite the short, light brown beard. Full lips that contrasted with how hard the rest of him was. How he towered above her and dwarfed her with his broad shoulders and muscles.

And his strength was not just physical. For years he silently endured what would break most men. He had a sensitive heart, though he hid it. He saw her for who she was. Encouraged her to be the best version of herself. He was a protector, loyal to a fault, just like her. She understood why so many were willing to follow him into battle.

There were so many feelings she couldn’t bear to name in that moment. She didn’t want to make this more difficult for him, but she couldn’t just leave things as they were. Who knew what would happen, if they would see each other again?

“Stay safe, Pyetar. Please.” She tried to keep her desperation from her voice, but some of it leaked through. “Tell Vaneshta and the others the same.”

Pyetar nodded. “Of course. You be careful, too. Try not to use your magic if you can help it. Commanders don’t always need to be on the front line.” His voice was so tight.

She swallowed. “Okay.”

“Goodbye, Iryana.” His throat bobbed.

“Goodbye, Pyetar.”

But neither of them moved to leave.

Instead, they sprang for each other. Iryana held his face in her hands, Pyetar drew his arms around her waist to pull her closer, and their mouths collided. They devoured each other like death was coming for them, which it likely was. She clung to him like she could make him stay, like if she kissed him hard enough it would never end. He consumed her like his greatest fear was stopping.