“Come sit with me,” he murmurs, pulling me ahead.
I look up at the dim glow of the bulbs in the branches as we settle onto the grass. Slade sits first and pulls me into his lap, myback to his front. His arms wrap around me as we look out past the water to the stars that brighten in the darkening sky.
We sit for several minutes as the balm of night spreads over Annwyn, and I relax into Slade’s chest as he leans against the tree trunk behind him. We listen to the twilight crickets as they string together a soothing song like they’re baying to the babbling creek. The center of the water glitters with the reflection of the stars, making the sky and land seem endless.
Slade presses a kiss to the top of my head. I look up at his face, gaze skimming over his pointed ears and the patch of scales at the side of his cheeks that lead up to his temples. My ribbons curl around us lazily, drifting over the grass, twirling around Slade’s back and arms. I lift a hand over the stubble at his jaw to trace my fingers along the black roots that delve through it.
“How was yourone daytoday, Goldfinch?” he asks, and I smile, because he asks me this every day.
My answer is always the same.
“It was the best, because I’m with you.”
He cups the side of my face, and I turn in his arms so I’m straddling him, my hands twisting around the back of his neck and tangling into his hair.
“Are you happy?” he asks, another question I get each night.
I look into his deep green eyes. “Unfathomably,” I whisper. “Areyouhappy?”
“Immeasurably.”
I smile. “We’re having all of ourone days.”
“We are.” He braces one hand against my back, and my ribbons instantly tangle around his arm while his other hand plays with my hair until I have shivers that scatter down my skin. I feel his thumb stroke over the golden scale at my neck.
He shifts, reaching down, and then he hands me something. I pull back, glancing down in surprise at the book.It’s small, its length fitting my hand, and I suck in a breath as soon as I look at it. It’s familiar.
Red binding, golden filigree, ancient writing, and the wordFaescrolled on the spine. While it’s not as worn as the other book, everything else is exactly the same.
“A replica?” I ask as I peel open the cover, eyes lighting up over the painted illustrations inside. “Where did you find this?”
“I had help,” he says as he watches me flip through the pages. “Wick was able to track it down.”
My heart swells as I look through it, and then I notice the strip of gold tucked at the last page. My eyes dart up, recognizing my ribbon that Slade always carries in his pocket. I flip to the page it’s holding and see the two fae embracing. That same illustration I’d been so mesmerized with before, and the single fae word beneath them.
Päyur.
“It’s Saira Turley, isn’t it?” I say.
“Yes. And the prince.” He points to their auras that glow around them. “I’ve heard from some of the Vulmin that they were one of the strongest pairs to have ever bonded.” He pauses, finger hooking over the page. “Like us.”
He flips it over, and I blink in surprise, because that wasn’t the last page. There’s one more. And this one is newer. The tiny brushstrokes are still visible where someone painted.
My breath catches as I stare. “Is this…”
“Us,” he finishes, voice caught against my ear.
My watering eyes rove over every inch, taking in every detail.
There we are. Slade and I standing together in each other’s arms. Me with ribboned wings, him with spikes and scales. Our auras are aglow around us, tendrils of gold and black that wrap around our figures like a halo of light and dark. And behind us, nearly flying right off the page, a goldfinch and a dragon.
Below it are three words.LyäriwylBetuläria.
“The golden one and the deathly flight,” Slade quietly explains.
A tear tracks down my cheek, my heart filled with swirling emotions. “No tears,” he tells me before gently closing the book and setting it aside. “You’ve had to cry too many already.”
“These are mostly happy,” I say as he wipes them away.
