One week later…
Galvane gazed out of the window as their ship neared the port of Darnassus. The grand city loomed on the horizon, its towering trees and shimmering structures bathed in the morning light. He had never truly set foot in Darnassus, except for the fleeting memory of passing through during the Third War, a time that now felt so distant it could have been in another life. Normally, the mere thought of those war-torn days would send a sharp pain through his head, pulling him into a dark and dizzying world of sorrow and regret. But now, the memories seemed muted, like echoes from a time that no longer had a stranglehold on him. It was as if those painful memories were finally settling into the background, becoming lessons rather than burdens. And for that, he had her to thank.
Nilsha's soothing words and comforting presence had softened the edges of his grief, healing wounds that time alone could not mend. Their bond, though still in its early stages, felt like it had the potential to grow into something unbreakable. He often found himself marveling at how quickly and deeply they had connected, despite the chasm of racial and cultural differences between them. They both knew their relationship would likely face judgment from others, but it no longer mattered to him. They wanted this to work, and they would make it work.
His thoughts wandered as he continued to sharpen his axe, Shadowmourne, the enchanted weapon glowing faintly in the dim morning light. Though the magical blade could not be dulled, the act of running the sharpening stone across it was soothing, a quiet ritual that helped him center his mind. He wasn't trying to perfect the blade; he was simply trying to buy himself a moment of peace amidst the turmoil of his thoughts.
Meanwhile, in the bed behind him, Nilsha stirred as the first light of dawn crept into their room. Wrapped in the soft sheets, her half-clad form made his pulse quicken as he cast a glance her way. Despite the temptation that hung heavy in the air between them, Galvane marveled at his ability to resist. It was frustrating at times, the tension palpable, yet he was determined to hold himself back for her. He respected the boundaries they had set, even though it was often difficult, especially with someone as captivating as her so near.
As if sensing his gaze, Nilsha extended her hand toward him, and without hesitation, he took it. They shared a brief kiss, their lips lingering for a moment longer than usual, their connection deepening. Their intimacy had grown over the past week, to the point where they now found themselves caressing each other's bodies more often, only to pause, reminding themselves that it wasn't yet time to fully give in to their desires.
Galvane turned back toward the window, staring out at the approaching shoreline. The port of Darnassus was in sight, a stark contrast to the somber thoughts that had clouded his mind moments before. Nilsha, meanwhile, slid out of bed and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, pressing her warm chest against his back. She leaned in and kissed his cheek softly, her breath warm against his skin. "How are you... lover?" she whispered, her fingers tracing slow circles over the fabric of his shirt.
Her words sent a jolt through him. He flinched, momentarily caught off guard by the term. "Lover." It was a title he had never expected to hold, not for someone as radiant as her. Yet, here he was, entangled in a love he never thought possible. A small smile spread across his lips as he gently squeezed her hand in return. Together, they stared at the approaching shore, their new destination within reach. "The land is so beautiful," he murmured, his voice soft, filled with quiet awe.
Nilsha followed his gaze, her eyes resting on the familiar landscape of her homeland. It had been so long since she had returned to Darnassus—since the Third War, in fact. She had left the safety of her homeland not long after that devastating conflict, driven by a yearning to explore the world beyond. In her heart, she had never wanted to be a priestess of Elune, though she had fulfilled her father's wishes and donned the robes. Her true dream had always been to become a huntress, to roam the forests and mountains, bow in hand, Nightsaber by her side. But her father had forbidden it, insisting it was far too dangerous for her, and so she had let that dream wither away.
A pang of regret stirred within her as she thought back to those days. She had buried that part of herself, the adventurous spirit that had longed for freedom, and in its place had grown a void. Her father had been right about one thing, though: the world outside was dangerous. Galvane was living proof of that, a man scarred not just by battle, but by the experiences that came with it. And yet, she found solace in the thought that her path had led her here, to him. She may have lost her dream, but perhaps she had gained something even greater in return.
She leaned in closer, resting her chin gently on his shoulder as they rocked back and forth together, the rhythm almost like a quiet dance. The cool breeze coming through the open window mixed perfectly with the warmth of their bodies, creating a comfortable balance between the crispness of the morning air and the lingering warmth of their embrace. Her gaze returned to the window, looking out at the sight of her homeland, and for a brief moment, she revealed a piece of herself that she rarely shared. "You know, Galvane," she began, her voice soft and thoughtful, "there was a time, long ago, when I never wanted to be a priestess. I always dreamed of being something else—an adventurer, a hunter." She spoke quietly, her words carried by the wind, as she shifted to sit beside him.
Galvane narrowed his eyes at her, the revelation catching him off guard. "What do you mean? Why didn't you pursue that?" he asked, his deep voice laced with curiosity as he locked his gaze with hers, searching for the truth behind her words.
Nilsha's expression was difficult to read, as though she wanted to brush off the significance of what she'd said, but the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable. She hesitated, her lips pressed together in thought, before responding. "There are things in life you don't always get, Galvane," she murmured, her tone gentle but firm. "Certain barriers stand in your way, and sometimes, those barriers protect you, whether you realize it or not. I can't say for certain if that's what happened to me, but I know I would've become a very different person than the one you see now. I might've been full of pride, surprises…" She turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a small, wistful smile. "Or what you'd call the 'average night elf woman.'" Her chuckle was brief, but it faded quickly as her eyes drifted once again to the horizon. "But still…" she trailed off, her voice growing distant as her thoughts seemed to float away with the breeze.
Galvane's chest tightened as he watched her, feeling the weight of the unspoken emotions between them. The ship was nearing the shore, but his mind lingered on her words. He couldn't shake the unsettling thought that gnawed at him, the one fear that haunted him ever since they became close—were her parents the barrier? He swallowed hard, his brow furrowing as he asked quietly, "Are your parents the barrier?" His gaze never left her, watching for any hint in her eyes. And there it was—a flicker of something, a brief lowering of her eyes to the floor, that confirmed his worst fear. It wasn't just societal expectations. Her family was the wall keeping her from her dreams.
As his own thoughts spiraled, he couldn't help but wonder if that same barrier would eventually tear them apart. The idea made his stomach churn. Could her family stand in the way of what they had built together? The very thought caused a cold knot to form in his gut. "Would they try to force me away from you?" His voice trembled slightly with the vulnerability of the question, his concern etched in every word.
She remained silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on the water outside, reflecting the deep blue of the approaching sea. The truth was there, unspoken but present, and it weighed heavily on both of them. Her parents would disapprove. Of that, there was no doubt. But this time, it wasn't just about her role as a priestess—it was about the man she chose to love. And they wouldn't just disapprove; they would fight, they would be angry, and they might even go to extreme lengths to separate them. Nilsha felt the familiar ache of being led down a path she hadn't chosen, a life she hadn't fully wanted, and she knew she couldn't let that happen again. She couldn't let them control her heart.
"If it…" She stopped herself abruptly, catching the words before they spilled out. No. She wouldn't allow it. Too much of her life had been lived in the shadows of other people's decisions, other people's control. This time, she would not give them the power to decide who she could love. Her resolve strengthened as she turned to face him, her beautiful amber eyes locking with his. She saw the worry in his face, the fear behind his eyes, but she also saw the love—the unwavering, unshakable love that had become her anchor. "Galvane, no matter what they do, they will NEVER separate me from you." Her voice was steady, filled with conviction as she placed her hand gently on his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin. Leaning in, she kissed him deeply, sealing her promise. When she pulled away, her smile lingered, though her eyes betrayed the concern she still carried. "Come on," she said softly, standing up with a graceful motion, "let's get dressed properly. It's time to make our way to shore."
Minutes later...
They stepped off the ship, now anchored firmly on the coast. Galvane carried their bags and his weapon with ease, though he couldn't help but feel entirely out of place here in Darnassus. Even as his feet touched the soft, unfamiliar earth, he could already sense the scrutiny, the silent stares from the elves around them. He was the only human among them, sticking out like a sore thumb amidst the ethereal presence of the Night Elves. While there might be humans deeper within the city, they were few and far between, and none would linger here as he would. He could feel the weight of their eyes, as if they were casting silent judgments from afar. Despite all his experience traversing the world, nothing prepared him for how alien he felt under their unwavering gaze, as though he were some strange beast that didn't belong.
Beside him, Nilsha walked in silence, her amber eyes reflecting the same unease he felt. They narrowed as they moved further into the village, her steps uncertain yet determined. "Hey... are we... going to meet them?" he asked, his voice low as his eyes flickered from the path to her face.
She hesitated, her head dipped slightly as her thoughts seemed to wrestle with the idea. When she had first planned to return home, it seemed a simple enough choice. But now that they were here, standing at the threshold of everything she left behind, doubt gnawed at her. "I... don't know. I thought I did, but now... I'm not sure what to do," she admitted, her voice soft but weighed with indecision. Her eyes dropped to the ground as they continued walking, their direction unclear.
Galvane cast a concerned glance her way. He knew she was frightened of what awaited her, of what her family would say. He had faced his own battles with his parents, their disapproval, but the path it led him down was one he hoped Nilsha would never have to tread. "Meet them..." he said, his words making her pause, her eyes wide with surprise. She had expected him to suggest otherwise, to support her in avoiding the confrontation, but his expression remained resolute. "You should meet them. You are their daughter, Nilsha. It's been so long since they've seen you, and that alone is reason enough to face them."
Her expression wavered. "But what about you?" she asked, her voice laced with worry. "You can't just walk into our house. No human has ever set foot in our village, let alone been welcomed into my family's home. They won't take kindly to you, Galvane." Her face showed the depths of her uncertainty, her eyes reflecting the impending encounter. The village loomed just ahead, a short walk that felt like miles, the weight of years pressing down on them.
"Do it for you, Nilsha. Not for me." His voice was gentle but firm, his gaze fixed on the village ahead. "This is your family, your choice. I'll wait in the village while you talk to them. And if... if you're confident they'll accept me, then..." His voice trailed off, his own fear of rejection briefly flashing in his eyes before he shook it off. He turned to her, his expression filled with trust. "I have faith in you."
Nilsha sighed, sensing the unspoken anxiety that lingered in his words. She could see it in the way his eyes darkened at the thought of being cast aside. He knew the inevitable, that her family's rejection would be the first obstacle they faced. "Galvane, I'm-"
"Nilsha?" A sudden voice interrupted her, catching both of them off guard. Nilsha flinched, her heart skipping a beat, though within that shock there was also a flicker of joy. She recognized that voice—her younger sister. She turned, her amber eyes meeting an almost mirror image of herself rushing toward her, filled with excitement. Her sister's arms enveloped her in a tight embrace, and Nilsha had no choice but to return it, the familiar warmth of family rushing back to her after so many years apart.
"My Nilsha, what are you doing here? We weren't expecting you!" Sheandre's voice was filled with delight, her face glowing with happiness at the sight of her older sister returning home.
Nilsha smiled, her own emotions carefully controlled. "I'm fine, Sheandre," she replied softly. But her tone, though gentle, lacked the joy her sister expected. Sheandre's eyes narrowed slightly, pulling back from the embrace, her expression shifting to one of suspicion as she studied Nilsha's face. Something had changed.
Sensing her sister's scrutiny, Nilsha quickly shifted her demeanor, a smile returning to her lips as she tried to steer the conversation. "How's mother? Is she well?" she asked, hoping to divert the conversation, but Sheandre wasn't so easily fooled.
"Nilsha, what's wrong?" Sheandre pressed, her sharp eyes not missing a single detail. Before Nilsha could answer, Sheandre's gaze drifted to her left, landing on the tall figure standing just behind her sister. Galvane. A human. Her expression shifted from concern to shock, the realization settling in almost instantly. "I... I don't know what to say," Sheandre stammered, her eyes darting between the two of them. "Your... your chosen mate is a human?" She hesitated, her voice softening with disbelief. "Have you... consummated?"
The question, blunt and unexpected, caught both Nilsha and Galvane off guard. Seeing their startled expressions, Sheandre quickly backtracked, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. That was... that was too sudden," she mumbled, her eyes darting away from theirs. "It's just... after all these years, seven years, and now you're back, suddenly, with a human mate. I didn't expect..." Her words trailed off, her mind struggling to reconcile the sister she once knew with the woman standing before her now.
Nilsha gazed at her younger sister, her lips pursed in contemplation. "Do you condemn me for choosing such a mate, Sister?" The weight of her question hung between them, echoing with the uncertainty of their circumstances.
Sheandre shook her head vigorously, placing a reassuring hand on Nilsha's shoulder. "You are my sister. Whatever choices you make, I will support you. If this human has captured your heart, then there must be something good within him. After all, he has won the affection of a sister who has turned away countless suitors that Father favored." Her words were infused with warmth, a smile spreading across her face as they exchanged glances, familiar joy lighting up their expressions. Yet, the happiness in Sheandre's smile began to fade as a reminder of the potential fallout crept into her mind. "But, sister, know this: I speak only for myself. I cannot predict what Mother and, especially, Father will say about your mate. I can offer no assurances regarding their reactions when you choose to reveal this to them." She glanced back and forth between Nilsha and Galvane, the weight of the family dynamics palpable in the air.
"Thank you, Sheandre. At least I know you will always be there for me," Nilsha replied, her voice softening as she reached out to hug her sister. They embraced tightly, the warmth of their connection a balm against the uncertainties ahead.
Sheandre pulled away, a smile still gracing her features as she turned her attention to Galvane, who had been observing the reunion quietly. Now, she was ready to speak to him directly. "Nilsha, please introduce me to your mate. I want to know who this man is that you deem worthy of your affection," she said, her voice laced with genuine curiosity as she smiled warmly at him. Galvane returned her smile, his heart racing a little at the prospect of acceptance. He extended his hand in greeting, an offer of friendship that Sheandre accepted with enthusiasm.
3 hours later.
Three hours later, the trio strolled down the cobbled streets of the village. Three hours had passed filled with Galvane introducing himself, while the sisters shared laughter and stories, making up for lost time. However, Galvane couldn't quite say it was an enjoyable experience for him. The constant stares and hushed whispers swirling around him felt heavy, as if everyone around was speculating about his relationship with Nilsha. It made him uneasy throughout their conversations, each soft murmur about him lingering in the air like an unwelcome shadow. Meanwhile, Sheandre was both understanding and critical, navigating the complexities of their relationship while maintaining a respectful tone toward Galvane. Despite learning about his mercenary past, she acknowledged the situation but drew the line at full acceptance.
"Nilsha, I will not criticize your choice of mate," Sheandre began, her gaze shifting between her sister and the human man seated quietly nearby. "However, I would have preferred someone of our own race." Her expression was serious, yet not unkind, as she regarded Galvane with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Galvane, though I would ideally choose someone from our kin, I must admit that from what I know of you so far, you seem like a good man. You're honest about your flaws; you told me you once drank away your problems, but it seems you've moved past that. And you didn't shy away from admitting that you were a mercenary. That takes courage," Sheandre remarked, studying his features and demeanor before breaking into a soft smile. "You are refreshingly honest—something I haven't seen from many of the suitors who came before you, seeking my sister's hand."
Galvane found himself at a loss for words, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he chuckled lightly. "Thank you, but you know there's still a lot about me that you don't know. I'm sure you realize that, right?" he asked, a hint of nervousness creeping into his tone. He glanced at Nilsha, who placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her brow furrowed as if she sensed he might have misspoken.
Sheandre stood, nodding thoughtfully at Galvane. "I will let my sister discover the rest for herself and choose whether to be with you or not," she replied, moving closer to Nilsha. She took her sister's hand, their connection palpable as they stood together. It was clear that Sheandre was taller than Nilsha by half a head, yet still shorter than Galvane, who towered over both sisters. Their eyes turned toward the distance, where their childhood home awaited them. Sheandre had sent a letter earlier, ensuring their parents would be ready to welcome Nilsha back after so many years apart. She could only imagine the excitement and impatience that must be brewing within their household.
While her father waited patiently in the living room, he stood up from his chair, his imposing figure matching the height of the lone human present. His clean-shaven face framed a sharp jawline, and his hair mirrored the silvery-white hue of Nilsha's, creating a striking familial resemblance. Despite his neutral expression, there was an undeniable fierceness in his demeanor, a testament to the weight of his paternal role.
Nilsha's gaze instinctively averted from her parents, even after the years of separation that should have softened their reunion. But despite her trepidation, her mother quickly enveloped her in a warm embrace, wrapping her arms around Nilsha as if to shield her from the world. "Nilsha, my goodness! You have finally come home! After seven long years!" Alteria exclaimed, pulling back to examine her daughter more closely. Her eyes danced over Nilsha's features, joy radiating from her, blissfully unaware of the anxiety etched in her daughter's expression. "When Sheandre sent us the letter announcing you were in the village, I immediately prepared a fine lunch for us to share as a family, just like we always used to!" As she entered the room with Nilsha, her daughter unconsciously positioned herself behind her mother, as if seeking solace from the looming presence of her father.
Tharos regarded his daughter with a narrowed, skeptical gaze, noting her reluctance to meet his eyes. He dismissed the discomfort, recalling that even before her departure, Nilsha had always struggled to look him in the eye. A small smile crept onto his lips as he opened his arms to her. She instinctively stepped forward and embraced him, but to her, the gesture felt hollow, devoid of the warmth she had longed for. "My, my Nilsha, you've finally come home," he said, gesturing for everyone to follow him to the dining table, which was laden with an abundance of food.
She sat beside Sheandre, her quiet demeanor immediately noticed by her mother. "Nilsha, why are you so quiet? This is a joyous occasion, seeing you back home in Darnassus after your seven years in the human capital!" Alteria pointed out, her cheerful tone contrasting sharply with Nilsha's silence. The weight of her mother's expectations pressed down on her, leaving her at a loss for words about her relationship with a human. She glanced at Sheandre, whose narrowed brows and concerned expression offered little comfort, and so she remained silent.
"So, my daughter, what have you been doing in the human capital? I have voiced my strong opposition to your decision to go there, to the heart of our enemies—"
Finally, Nilsha found her voice. "Father, please, humanity is no longer our enemy. They helped us during the war, and—"
He cut her off, his voice rising sharply. "And regardless of that, they remain our enemies! Their assistance in battle doesn't mark a permanent alliance. They are simply biding their time, and eventually, it will revert to the old hatreds. That's precisely why I was so vehemently opposed to your leaving this house." His demeanor shifted, becoming more austere as he scrutinized her. Nilsha's eyes were cast downward, her jaw clenched, not out of fear of him, but of someone else entirely.
She shook her head, surrendering to the weight of the conversation. She fixed her gaze on the food before her, her appetite all but vanished. The familiar sense of sadness washed over her, not fear this time, but a sorrowful acknowledgment that nothing had changed. The same controlling atmosphere loomed over her life upon her return. She could feel it, an unyielding grip that suffocated her spirit.
Nilsha sighed deeply, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "Everything, and I don't even have the strength to explain it right now, because I know you'll simply reject my perspective. Especially you, Father. You always dismiss my choices, offering alternatives that you deem better and safer for me." Her words, though bold, lacked the conviction they might have had; instead, they carried a sense of resignation, as if she were merely stating a fact without the intent to argue. She felt it was futile. "I never even had the chance to tell you about my life because you immediately raised your voice about how much you disapprove. I often wonder what my life might have been like had I stood up for myself sooner and pursued my dreams of being a huntress, an adventurer as I always wanted to be," she said, her eyes narrowing defiantly at her father.
Tharos abruptly stood, his brows furrowed deeply. "I did it for your sake, Nilsha! Do you know how many sentinels were lost during the war?! Had you been a huntress like you wanted centuries ago, you would have perished in that conflict! These humans have killed thousands of us, and you still trust them?!" His voice, though raised, lacked any trace of anger, merely reflecting his steadfast conviction.
"And we, too, have killed tens of thousands of them! This endless cycle of bloodshed between our races stems from a heap of misunderstandings, and yet you still insist they are our enemies, despite our Alliance!" she countered, her voice rising in defiance. Then, as if a wave of realization washed over her, her tone softened. "You speak of outsiders as our enemies, yet you were particularly fond of the Draenei, even counting them as friends. What makes these 'outlanders' so different in your eyes that you selectively choose who our allies are and who our enemies remain?" Her accusing voice struck a nerve, and she could see the hypocrisy reflected in her father's changing expression.
"It doesn't matter! And it certainly doesn't matter to you, Nilsha! Why are you so eager to defend them, even from your own flesh and blood?!" His voice trembled with frustration, each word laden with hurt and disbelief.
Her emotions surged within her as she released the tumultuous thoughts from her mind. "Because I have loved ones who are human! I have friends and..." She faltered, her heart racing as she watched his expression contort into something unfathomable. His eyes widened to the point of tearing, revealing a vulnerability she had never seen before. Alteria's gaze mirrored a mixture of surprise and fear as she listened to her daughter, sensing the impending storm. But Nilsha knew it mattered no longer; she had to take control of her life, and that required confronting the truths she had long hidden. She shook her head, then looked back at her father, locking eyes with him, the air thick with tension.
"And I have a mate who is human too..." Her voice softened, barely above a whisper, yet it resonated like a thunderclap in the charged atmosphere.
She could see the shock ripple through him. Nilsha would be lying to herself if she claimed she wasn't afraid, for fear coursed through her body, tightening her chest. The way his face morphed from disbelief to shock, and then swiftly to anger, sent a chill down her spine. She swallowed the saliva that had built in her mouth, her heart pounding as her father's face contorted, struggling to comprehend the news she had just unveiled. "I don't care if—"
"How could you, Nilsha?" His voice cracked, drawing all eyes toward him as the weight of his words sank in. Never had she heard such depth in his voice, nor the raw edge of anger that tinged his tone. Her eyes widened in disbelief, prompting her to instinctively take a step back, feeling the gravity of the moment. "HOW COULD YOU! TO LET YOURSELF GO AND MAKE YOURSELF AVAILABLE TO THEM?!" He roared, his anger erupting as he swept his arm across the table, sending plates crashing to the floor, shattering in a cacophony that echoed the fracture in their family. His breathing quickened, the heat of his rage palpable, as he covered his face with trembling hands, as if trying to shield himself from the reality he couldn't accept.
Yet, despite his fury, Nilsha's courage held firm. She clenched her teeth, forcing herself to meet his furious gaze. She was well aware that his hurtful words were a reflection of his own insecurities. She had let herself go, but not in the way he presumed; she had liberated herself from the constraints of his control. "Let myself go? Father, the only time I let myself go was when I allowed you to lead me around! Every decision I made, you twisted it into something else!" Her voice rang with defiance, strong against the weight of his disapproval. Nilsha turned her gaze to her mother, who stood in shock, caught between the chaos unfolding before her.
"Mother, please! Side with me! You could understand!" She pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.
AAlteria took a moment to collect herself, her eyes avoiding her daughter's as if she feared witnessing the hurt reflected in her own. "I'm sorry, Nilsha. I love you very much, but your father is right; your choice to take a human as your mate is something I simply cannot accept," she replied softly, her voice trembling. When their eyes finally met, a wave of sadness washed over them, deepening the chasm between them. "Please, Nilsha, try to understand—"
"Understanding..." Nilsha uttered, her voice barely a whisper, as her gaze flickered between her mother and father. Her eyes captured a storm of emotions: disgust, disbelief, sadness, and simmering anger mingled in the air. "All my life, I've done what you wanted me to do. Dressed how you wanted, spoken how you wanted, and lived as you wished!" Her voice cracked with the weight of unspoken frustration. "Isn't it enough that even this one small decision is too much for you?"
Her father shook his head, his eyes now stripped of their initial shock, replaced instead with a cold disappointment. "I love you, my daughter, but I won't accept this. Take your choices somewhere else." His words, devoid of hesitation, sliced through the air, echoing painfully in the silence. He remained oblivious to the hurt he had inflicted, too consumed by his need to impose his will.
"Okay then," Nilsha responded, her voice quivering as tears threatened to spill. "I know now what you want, and I'll comply. I'll leave..." The words escaped her lips with an unexpected heaviness, the sting of his dismissal cutting deeper than she had anticipated. "I won't be coming back. If you expect me to return unwelcomed, then I'm sorry to disappoint you." With that, she turned toward the door, her heart aching with the weight of her father's rejection.
Alteria remained rooted in place, her eyes glazed with unshed tears as she watched her eldest daughter walk away, each step a reminder of the widening rift. To already know that she wouldn't side with her was painful enough, but witnessing Nilsha's departure shattered her heart. "Nilsha, wait—" An arm reached out, halting her from closing the distance. She looked back to see her husband, brows furrowed, frustration etched across his face as he glared at her retreating figure. "Tharos, if anything happens to our daughter, I will make sure that you will—" He cut her off, striding toward the door as Nilsha distanced herself from the house. He failed to notice the human man waiting outside, lingering in the shadows, uncertainty etched on his features. He watched as Nilsha walked away, and his stomach twisted at the thought of her "stooping so low."
He turned back, retreating into the house, his heart heavy with the decisions he had made. Tharos believed in his heart that she would see the truth, that she would eventually return, admitting he had been right all along. She always had.
"You just sent our daughter away like that, Tharos, because you can't bear to see her making her own decisions—even after all this time!" Alteria's voice rose, but she received no response, her husband's silence a stark contrast to her turmoil. She turned her gaze back to the path where Nilsha had disappeared with her human mate, feeling helpless and regretful. She was too late to intervene, to tell her daughter she was right; yet, her feet remained firmly planted on the ground, unwilling or unable to move as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. Sheandre stepped closer, offering a gentle embrace as they both stood in the aftermath of the heartbreak.
"Nilsha, I'm sorry for being so weak," Alteria whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she watched her daughter vanish into the distance.