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    Summary

    “Rook,” he says softly. He folds his arms alongside them, lifts one hand to stroke his thumb up the bridge of their nose. Their eyes have fallen closed again, but their ears perk, listening and leaning into his touch. They’re so tired, so defeated, yet they will persevere. Rook doesn’t know how to stop, and neither will he.

    “My place is at your side,” he continues. “Right here. Not back in Treviso, ordering the Houses around, and certainly not making decisions that affect all Crows in Antiva. If that is what I have to choose – between you and First Talon – it will always be you.”

    Ours. Ours. Always ours.

    Yes. Finally. Ours, and nothing will tear Rook from either of them should they have the opportunity to.

    Language:
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    Chapters:
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