She doesn’t even have to be mine. She might never be mine, but the mere fact that she lives proves perfection exists. It proves this world has wonders in it yet.
“I’m with you,” he said.
Centuries of hatred, and war, and—at one point—friendship hung between them. Only a woman they both loved could fuse their interests and turn enemies into allies.
It went against his duty, his honor, his instincts.
But he took Grim’s hand.
Because the only way they were going to get Isla back was together.
GRIM
Grim Malvere had never known pain like this in his long life.
He stood alone at the edge of the maze, staring within its depths as if he could will Isla to emerge. Even when she had died,diedin his arms, at least that agony had been useful. There was a way to revive her. An ancient, sacred, dangerous way of sharing life and power.
But now?
He didn’t even know where to start. He was completely lost without her.
His portaling flair had always felt like a curse and a blessing. It was the reason all his siblings were dead. It was also his only escape from the role that had suffocated him for centuries.
Untilher.
She was a breath of spring in the middle of winter. She was a guiding star in his dark sky, the axis on which his world turned.
And now...now, he didn’t even know if she was alive.
No. He banished that thought. If she was dead, he would feel it. Right? He would be dead too. They shared a lifeline...
They shared a verysoul. When they were together, he couldn’t tell where hers ended and his began. They were one in every way.
She was alive. She had to be.
Only that faith—in her, in the persistence ofthem—kept him grounded in this endless sea of agony. The belief that one day, they would be together again.
“Nothing in this universe can keep me from you,” Grim said to the night sky. He hoped, wherever she was, she could hear him. “I will rip down the constellations themselves to see you again.”
Then he portaled to the table in his winter castle, where Oro was waiting. His clothes were still bloodied, but he had healed his broken nose. Washed his face. Grim hadn’t bothered healing anything, and he didn’t miss how the Sunling frowned at the bruise he could still feel blossoming around his eye.
If his father knew the king of Lightlark would one day be sitting here, he would have killed Grim himself.
But Grim didn’t give a damn. Not when Isla’s life was hanging in the balance.
Oro’s irritating friends walked in a moment later. The redhead with the fiery wings. The thief he’d had the displeasure of spending far too much time with recently. The hulking Moonling who listened more than he spoke. He, at least, wasn’t as annoying as the rest. Astria, his general, entered the room last. They all sat down—and looked to Grim.
“So?” Oro said, from the other end of the table. “How do we go there? How do we bring her back?”
Grim fought the urge to turn him to ash. Isla wouldn’t like that. And the king wouldn’t be much help as a pile of cinders, would he?
In a voice ground from the pit of his aggravation, he said, very carefully, “Do you think if I knew that, I would be sitting here, across from all of you? Do you think I would be doing anything else but going to get her?”
The redhead carelessly leaned back in a chair that was easily twice her age. “Your flair is portaling. Shouldn’t you know?”
His shadows’ edges sharpened, clawing against the floor.
“The portal is closed. The only other one is on Lightlark, and though I have no problem using it and destroying all of you, I know my wife would.” He didn’t miss the Sunling flinching at the wordwife. Good.Flinch, Sunling. He looked directly at Oro when he said the nextwords. “I can feel her. The bond between us.” The Sunling glared at him. He knew that Grim had bound himself to her in order to revive her. He should begrateful. He wouldn’t even haveknownher if it wasn’t for him.
