As promised, I bunked with Nightfall that night. Brick sighed but said nothing and invited Jackal to share his tent to give us some privacy.

I chewed on my lip in anxiety, thinking of how he had clung to me every night since his brother had left. I knew he was a big, independent orc who could take care of himself, but I also knew how much he needed me, how deeply he was hurting at the moment, and how desperately he clung to me in his sleep.

It was hard, feeling guilt no matter what I did or who I chose. Nightfall was afraid, too. He was heading directly towards necromancers, the people who had committed genocide against both our races and the reason for the scarcity of dark elves and succubi in the world today.

I’d always been with Brick, Bruiser and Nightfall separately, but I was having visions of lining up three king size mattresses together just so I could keep an eye on everyone and be certain none of them slipped off in the night to fight random wars. Rather than filling me with excitement, it just made me feel more anxious. But maybe that was because two of our party – well, two and a dire-weasel – were headed towards potential death and the rest of us weren’t that far behind. It made it hard to imagine what our relationship would look like when things were relatively normal.

“Your thoughts are racing,” Nightfall observed.

I sighed and sat down next to him on the bedroll. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve not been with you much and now, even when my body is here, it feels like my thoughts are a million miles away.”

“It’s okay. I have a lot of thoughts brewing as well,” he said and gestured for me to lie down. “It is to be expected on a perilous journey such as this.”

He followed suit, pulling the blanket over my shoulders and spooning me, his arm around my waist.

“Listen to the water. Let it take your worries away,” he whispered. “Danger will find us before long, but you are safe tonight. Nothing will find you here in my arms.”

His velvet tones soothed me, and I listened to the water. We’d reached the area where the lake bled into the river, but it had been too dark to see easily, and we had agreed to make a plan in the morning.

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The gnomish village we had hoped to seek help from seemed abandoned, but as they were known for laying traps, we had pitched our tents well out of town. We hoped we would be able to find a boat in the morning, but Nightfall had his doubts they would have left any water-worthy vessels if they had abandoned the town due to necromantic threats.

I turned my head to kiss Nightfall goodnight, and he returned it affectionately. His kisses were sweet, shy and reserved, and so different to Brick’s passionate explorations or Bruiser’s commanding expressions of affection. He always took his time. It felt like he was savouring me, worshiping me in his own way.

I turned further towards him, running my fingers up his lean chest and resting them against his skin. He was warmer than he was when I met him. His skin used to be pallid and cold to the touch; evidence of the necromantic magic he had been birthed from. But since he’d feasted on my succubus slime, something had irreversibly changed in his body. His heart beat as strong as anyone else’s, his blood pumped around his body, and he maintained heat for the first time in his life. He sometimes even managed a blush, a delicate rose-pink against his alabaster skin.

I smiled against his lips and tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away.

“Sleep, my angel,” he whispered. “We have had many long days and will have many more.”

“You don’t want to?”

“I always want you, my dear one. But I want your days to be easy. I will not risk exhausting you when we are on our way to meet our enemies. Sleep, and let me hold you. That is the one privilege I ask tonight.”

“Okay,” I sighed, and let out a long breath, feeling my body relax. I was tired. Even though food could replenish energy in this world, nothing felt truly as restful as finding a real bed to sleep in. I nestled against Nightfall, taking comfort in his calming presence and his warmth against my back.

I let my mind drift away, and Bastion’s image danced in my mind just out of reach. I worried about him even more than Bruiser. Bruiser rarely got himself into trouble he couldn’t handle, but I seemed to be healing Bastion every other day. Trouble had a way of finding him more often than not, especially when we were in town.

Inevitably he’d end up at the tavern drinking his sorrows away, and he would get in a bar fight every time without fail – whether he started it or someone else found the look of him offensive and decided a fight needed to happen. It’d end the same every time, with Brick shaking his head and settling the bill for damage, and Bastion lying in my lap while I sung him back together with my Healing Song.

The last time I’d seen him in the Citadel haunted me. The way he’d admitted to me that he didn’t know why he did it. How he wanted to stop. How he hated what it did to Brick, how he hated himself.

It broke my heart.

Just one more broken thing in this terrible, broken world.