How, he wondered, had he gone so long watching, but not truly seeing?
As his men walked back up the mountain, to regain their rightful place, to stay awake, to watch.
He hesitated.
He never hesitated.
He wasn’t aware of the meaning of it.
Until that moment.
So beautiful.
I.
Want.
His breath came out in a whoosh.
Want.
Want.
Want.
Heartbeat slowing, he pressed her hand to his cheek as his blood roared for something more—than watching.
Watching was no longer enough.
He closed his eyes again.
And again.
And again as she continued to touch his face.
“Why are you crying?” the woman asked.
“Name?” he whispered. “What do they call you?”
“Nephal,” she answered. “It means—”
“—fallen.” He jerked away, took one step, then two. As if his very life depended on it, he put distance between him and Nephal.
“And yours?” she asked.
Want.
Want.
Want.
He knew he shouldn’t tell her, something cried out inside of him, that it was wrong, the entire exchange, something told him it would not end well, but he only wanted seconds, minutes, hours, maybe he wanted days, and was it wrong to want time? When he was given so much of it? After all, he was still watching, he was just watching. Her.
“Sariel.” The minute his name was released into the atmosphere, the wind picked up, a warning, from nature, from the very earth that he’d sworn to protect.
Do not do this. The mountains trembled.
Do not do this. The wind hissed.