Draven gave her a small smile, and pressed his hand to her face. “You know better than to think I would.”
She huffed under her breath, and she shook her heat at him. “I do,” she managed.
Draven reached into his shirt then, and he pulled the stone and chain he always wore over his head. “Take it this time,” he insisted.
Balandria swallowed hard and bowed her head so that he could place it around her neck. Her gaze met his when she lifted her head once more. Draven gave her a proud smile.
“Balandria Windwood. Venari King,” he said as he clapped her shoulder. “I couldn’t have asked for a better successor.”
When Balandria left them, Draven practically fell backwards into the hay bales at the corner of the bars. Aydra held his hands as he cried quietly, and after a while she held him against her chest, staring out at the stars sparkling back at them in the sky. Tears came down her own face as she tried to assure him he’d done his part as being a great king, leading his people out of the shadows they’d so rested in for generations.
Her body felt empty and full all at once.
Empty because she knew this was the end, full because of the love she’d felt just within those last few hours. Proud of the people her siblings had become. Proud of Balandria for trying to keep a stern face in front of her king.
It was all she could have asked for on her last night.
The parchment Balandria had brought him was quickly filled with their story. The truth. Not whatever lies the Chronicles would say about them. Their love. Their comfort in darkness. How they’d found each other despite the fear and hatred their givers had so spewed upon their races throughout history. Upon its completion, Draven stuffed it between two rocks, securing it for whomever he thought would need it in the future.
As he sat back against the wall, he cradled her in his arms, the both of them fighting the drooping of their heavy eyes. They’d not slept the night before, but neither wanted the morning to come any faster than it would already.
“I have to tell you something,” Draven whispered after a while.
She sat her chin on his chest and met his gaze. “This isn’t like the other times, is it?” she said, almost playfully. “I don’t think I can take anymore faints of surprise.”
He chuckled under his breath, and he grasped her hand in his, kissing her knuckles. “No, not like the other times,” he promised.
“Then tell me.”
Draven sighed, and her eyes squinted at his suddenly solemn facade, eyes staring at the ground as his mind worked. His gaze finally met hers again, and she swallowed hard.
“You know what I’m going to do,” he whispered.
Her heart skipped, and she remembered the words he had spoken to her the night of the Infi attack. He toyed with her hands in his a moment, and then he continued.
“I always knew you would never allow me to save you—”
“Draven, you did save me,” she interjected.
His brows knitted together, and he squeezed her hand, but he didn’t respond.
She reached up and felt of his face, her thumb grazing the gash across his cheek. “You saved me from a noir which I did not know was killing me. From living out the rest of my days wondering what it would have felt like to know the truth of this world.”
“You would have been fine without me,” he whispered.
“I know,” she managed. “But you made me so happy. So loved. My equal partner, in light and in dark.”
His jaw was trembling, and he closed his eyes. “I am taking my own revenge against this kingdom for what they have put you through. All of them. This kingdom, your giver, your brother… they will all burn for what they’ve done to you and every other queen to have ever sat subdued on that throne. The flames of darkness will envelope the sky. And the Rhamocour’s shout will be the last thing they hear before my death.”
Aydra’s heart skipped. “You’re bringing the Noctuans here? To Magnice?”
“The dragons,” he answered. “Do you have a problem with that?”
She thought about it a moment, staring at their entwined hands in his lap. “Our crown does not live within a castle. It lives within a people. These walls have betrayed that crown, made it grow greedy and unyielding…” She paused, meeting his eyes. “As long as Nyssa and Dorian are safe, it can crumble to ash and smoke,” she finally determined.
He smiled, his forehead leaning against her temple as he hugged his arms around her, knees bent and cradling her in his arms. “There’s my Queen.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
