“I don’t want to wait,” I murmur against his chest, my voice muffled. “I can’t stand here and pretend everything’s fine when he’s out there, Raiden. I can’t–”
“I know.” His breath ruffles my hair as his hand runs soothing circles on my back. “I know. But the people need to believe in you. They need to know you’ll fight for them. After that, we’ll go. We’ll get him.”
His words are like a lifeline, a fragile thread of hope I cling to, even though my heart and soul ache with every second that passes. I nod against him, the movement small, almost imperceptible, but it’s enough for now.
Chapter forty-four
Everly
My breath catches at the sight of my reflection in the mirrors. The dress Zaria created for my coronation is nothing short of breathtaking—a masterpiece woven from dreams and stardust. The gown is a soft, shimmering white with delicate green accents that trace through the fabric like vines. Layers of silk and chiffon fall gracefully around me, the flowing skirt adorned with scattered diamonds and jewels that catch the light, each one sparkling like stars. Every movement sends a cascade of glimmering light around me, making the gown feel alive, like a piece of magic brought to life.
The bodice is an intricate work of art, embroidered with green vines that trail gracefully over my torso, curling around my shoulders and creating a soft, delicate look. From my shoulders drapes a sheer, gossamer fabric that flows all the way to the floor, its surface dusted with glitter, casting a soft, ethereal glow.
It’s as though I’m wrapped in moonlight, every detail carefully crafted to bring out the magic of my heritage.
My birthmark is visible, displayed proudly, along with my pointed ears and the mate mark etched on my temple. There’s no makeup, just the rawness of my features. My hair is styled half-up, soft tendrils framing my face, allowing my fae heritage to shine through fully and unapologetically. The woman staring back at me is not the woman who stepped through that faerie door a couple of months ago.
I smile down at my arm, slowly gliding my fingers over the birthmark as my thoughts turn back to the day I woke after my Renascitur.
“It's funny, back at the Evergreen Castle, I thought that we were reminiscent of the sun and the moon, and this mark always looked like a unique combination of a sun and moon to me, together in a winding pattern of vines. It was us all along. Marking me as a druid and you as my mate.”
Maxon’s hand reaches out, gripping my wrist, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it softly.
“Entwined together by fate,” he whispers against my skin.
I blink out of the memory to see Scarlett and Mia coming up behind me, their eyes shining brightly.
Scarlett’s voice is barely above a whisper when she speaks. “You look so beautiful.”
“I can’t believe this is real,” Mia adds, fanning her face with her hand.
I turn, pulling her into a hug. “I don’t know how many times I said that myself when I first arrived,” I murmur, my voice tinged with the bittersweet memories of my own uncertainty back then.
When I step back, Scarlett reaches out, her fingers gently twirling a strand of my hair. “How are you holding up after last night?” she asks, her tone soft but searching.
“Rough,” I admit, my gaze dropping as my hand brushes over the intricate details of the gown.
Scarlett lets out a sigh. “I know it sounds hollow, but you’ll get him back. Somehow, I just know everything will work out. It has to.”
I look up, giving her a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Scar. Will you both be okay here?” I look between them. “If not, I can take you to the gate. I don’t want you here if things get . . . complicated.”
“No way in hell are we leaving you here in the middle of this shit show,” Scarlett’s green eyes light up.
“Yeah, we’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone.”
Scarlett grins. “Keep these men in line.”
The soft creak of the door opening catches our attention, and we all turn as Zaria steps quietly into the room. She’s no longer in her usual maid uniform; instead, she’s dressed in a stunning light pink satin gown that flows around her like a gentle blush of dawn.
“You look amazing,” I breathe.
Zaria’s cheeks flush, the delicate pink spreading up her neck making her brown skin glow. “Thanks.”
I beckon her over and hook my arm in hers, and we all face the mirror. Scarlett is a striking contrast standing next to me, wrapped in a deep emerald green gown that clings to her form in all the right ways. The color brings out the brightness of her fiery red hair, which tumbles around her shoulders like living flames, wild and fierce.
“We look gorgeous,” Scarlett notes, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“We really do,” Mia adds. Her dress is royal-blue chiffon that wraps around her small frame. The color complements her dark brown hair which has been elegantly braided over one shoulder. Tiny flowers have been woven into the braid, each petal a small pop of color against her deep brown locks. Nix’s handiwork, no doubt—though as usual, she’s nowhere to be found.
