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The earth beneath my chest cracked. My grip slipped. Poppy's eyes widened. "Azaren."

The fissure pulled harder. My arm burned. Poppy's fingers began sliding through mine. She looked up at me. Tears filled her eyes. Not again. Never again.

"Poppy."

"I love you." She cried and her words stopped everything. For one impossible heartbeat, I forgot the creature. The breach. The pain.

"I love you," she repeated, her voice breaking.

Something inside me surrendered. Not broke. Opened. Every strange movement beneath my ribs. Every irrational thought. Every moment I had searched for her without reason. Every time her laughter had quieted the infernal fire inside me. It all became terrifyingly clear.

I tightened my grip. "So do I."

Poppy froze. "What?"

"This is a poor time to demand repetition."

"You love me?"

"Unfortunately."

A tear slipped down her cheek. She laughed. The ground collapsed. We were running out of time. "Trust me."

"I do." Her words were brave and ended in a scream, when I freed my claws from the dirt and allowed us both to drop into the abyss of the fissure. Then I spread my wings. Pain tore through the injured one, but it held. Barely. I pulled.

The creature screamed again. The force nearly dragged us back down the breach. I looked toward it. Toward the being suspended between dead worlds. "You want a door?"

Its eyes locked on mine. "Yes."

"You cannot return."

"Never." It promised. "This place is bad."

I landed us back on the ground. Poppy clung to me. And I… wasn't opposed. She fit perfectly right into my side. I retrieved my sword.

Filled with apprehension, the creature watched me approach. Fear moved through its fractured face. "Will you kill me?"

I wanted to. Every instinct demanded it. Destroy the threat. Seal the breach. Protect what was mine.

Poppy snuck out from under my arm. Naturally. The creature looked at her. Then at me. I thought of the realm that had died. Of centuries it had spent trapped in darkness. Of every blade raised against it before anyone asked why it cried. I lowered my sword.

With a resigned shake of my head, I sighed, "No."

Poppy's fingers gripped my arm.

The creature shuddered. "Why?"

Because Poppy had changed me. Because she saw things I had trained myself not to. Because perhaps mercy was not weakness. Perhaps it was simply another kind of courage. "I know what it is to be judged before anyone asks your story."

The creature's light flickered. "Home gone." It restated. "Where do I go?"

I did not know. Poppy did. She always did.

"Not home," she said softly. "Somewhere new."

The creature looked at her. "New?"

"A place that can hold you."