AARYN
He'd known the moment was coming, had pulled her closer and swayed against her because he grieved the loss of touching her. But knew he had to do it, too. He'd whispered in her ear, given her his heart, and she'd given hers right back. The weight of her head on his chest felt like home.
So, when the males closed in and began to pull him back, away, he wanted to fight. It wasn't his turn, but he yearned to fight. He tried to hold onto her, but his fingers trailed down her bare arm, the dress giving him nothing to hold. He saw her turn, to look for him, confusion all over her beautiful face. And it was an act of sheer will to let himself be torn from her. But he had to do it. He knew he had to do it, so he stopped fighting as he was pushed through the crowd, ushered to the other side of the flames where he would wait for her.
