Chapter 14 - Confessions in the Dark
The war council concluded late into the night, the defeated mercenaries having been driven back across the southern border or locked away in the lower frost-cells. Peace returned to Frostpeak, heavy and absolute.
In the royal bedchambers, the hearth fire crackled softly, casting a warm, amber glow across the stone walls. Stellan sat on the edge of the large velvet bed, gently tending to a minor graze along his shoulder with a damp cloth.
Giselle walked over, taking the cloth from his large hand. Without a word, she dipped it in warm herbal water and carefully cleaned the remaining soot from his skin.
"You didn't have to unleash the full storm today, Giselle," Stellan said softly, his golden eyes watching her every movement. "The pack would have broken their lines easily."
"I know," Giselle whispered, her fingers lingering gently on his scarred shoulder. "But I am tired of watching from the shadows, Stellan. For nineteen years, I was hidden away, told that my existence was a sin. Today, I wanted the world to know that my power is my own."
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Stellan caught her hand, pressing a warm kiss against her palm. "You were never a sin, Giselle. You were a miracle waiting to happen. The moment I smelled your scent in that iron cage, I knew my soul had finally found its home."
Giselle smiled, leaning down to rest her forehead against his chest. For the first time in her life, the ghosts of her childhood—the cold attic, her mother's indifferent stares, Beatrice's cruel laughter—felt completely distant, washed away by the warmth of a love that defied empires.
