Chapter 95 Elena Heart- POV
Xavier’s face went completely rigid. The warm hand on my shoulder dropped, his posture turning into a wall of unyielding stone. "No."
"Xavier, listen to me—"
"No, Elena!" he snapped, his voice dropping to a harsh, fierce whisper that rattled the loose gravel on the tower floor.
"I am not letting you walk into the open. Look at the city! Hallway has turned the North Gate into a meat grinder specifically engineered for an assassin. The moment you step into that square, you are playing entirely into his hands!"
"They are your people, our people, Xavier!" I yelled back, stepping right into his space, my chest colliding with his armored breastplate. The anger I had been suppressing exploded, hot and volatile.
"Those weavers helped me. They gave me bread when I was starving! I am the reason they are on those blocks right now! If I sit up here in this tower for another hour playing the cautious strategist while they hang, then I am no better than the Council!"
"And if you die, the kingdom dies with you!" Xavier roared, grabbing my upper arms. His grip wasn't painful, but it was desperate, his fingers digging into the silk-steel of my armor.
For the first time since I had dragged him out of the palace ruins, I saw a flicker of absolute terror in his winter-blue eyes.
"Do you think this is just about strategy for me? Do you think I am just calculating pieces on a board? Elena, they raised the bounty to half a million gold. Every blade in that city is waiting for you to make a mistake. If I lose you..."
His voice cracked, a raw, vulnerable sound that tore through my defenses. "If you burn yourself out using that ring to save three lives, Hallway wins anyway. I won't let you do it."
"I am an assassin, Xavier! This is what I do!" I cried, my eyes stinging with fierce, frustrated tears. The worry in his face was breaking my heart, but the images of the old men being dragged through the mud fueled my resolve.
"I'm not asking you to let me go alone. I told you, you’re backing me up. You have the high-tier magic. You keep the sky off my back, and I will handle the floor. We forged the tether last night—use it! Trust me!"
"I trust you," he rasped, his breath hot against my face as he pulled me closer, his forehead dropping against mine. "I don't trust a desperate empire with nothing left to lose."
"Then trust the monster you claim the Council made me," I whispered, my voice softening as I reached up, my gloved hands framing his jaw, forcing him to look into my eyes.
"Let me be the tyrant's nightmare, Xavier. Just for an hour. Come with me and be my storm."
The silence between us was heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and the terrifying realization of how much we both stood to lose.
The Celestial Tether between our hearts pulsed, a frantic, rhythmic beat that synchronized our breathing.
He looked at me, searching my face for any sign of hesitation, finding only the lethal, stubborn grit that had saved his life in the tunnels.
With a low, defeated growl, Xavier conquered the distance between us.
He slammed his lips against mine in a kiss that was desperate, possessive, and thick with the fear of tomorrow. It wasn't the slow, gentle burn of the night before; it was a chaotic, breathless claim.
His arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me slightly off my feet, crushing me against his armor as if he could physically shield me from the entire city within his embrace.
I kissed him back with equal fervor, pouring all my fury, my fear, and my unspoken devotion into the taste of him.
When he finally pulled back, his lips brushed my temple, his chest heaving. "If you get a single scratch on you," he warned, his voice a dangerous, gravelly rumble, "I will level that entire gatehouse with everyone inside it."
A sharp, sassy smirk finally broke through my tears. "Try not to break the architecture, Your Majesty. We have to rebuild this city, and stone is expensive."
"Just stay alive to lecture me about the budget, thief," he muttered, finally letting my feet touch the stone floor.
I checked the balance of my dual obsidian daggers, the terror fading, replaced by a cold, clinical certainty. "They want an assassin. Let’s remind them why the House of Heart used to command a premium."
An hour later…
The silk-steel of my armor felt like a second skin, humming with the residual warmth of Xavier’s mana. Every breath I took tasted of soot and ozone, but the trembling in my hands was gone. It had been replaced by a cold, clinical certainty.
"They want an assassin," I whispered, checking the balance of my dual obsidian daggers. "Let’s remind them why the House of Heart used to command a premium."
Xavier stood beside me, adjusting the dark, hooded cloak over his silver-runed plate. His eyes were the color of a winter sky just before the blizzard hits.
"The Ravens are in position along the upper scaffolding of the gatehouses. The moment you give the signal, Elena, I will drop the sky on them."
"Try not to break the architecture, Your Majesty," I slipped in, a sharp, sassy smirk cutting through my anger. "We have to rebuild this city, and stone is expensive."
He let out a low, rough chuckle that vibrated through the Celestial Tether still humming between our cores. "Just stay alive to lecture me about the budget, thief."
The square before the massive iron doors of the North Gate was a circus of cruelty.
Rain-soaked wood platforms had been hastily erected, and three weavers from my old district, elderly men who had done nothing more criminal than repair my cloaks, stood with ropes around their necks.
Duke Hallway’s "Iron-Sash" mercenaries were parading around, kicking the citizens who had been forced to watch. At the center of the platform stood a brute of a captain, a man named Marcus, holding a heavy executioner's blade.
"Elena Heart!" Marcus bellowed into the pouring rain. "Your bloodline is forfeit! Show yourself, or these old men pay for your cowardice!"