Technically, the stairs in the Keres tower could have led her to my old nest. They were meant to accommodate death-touched brides. But even if Daphne wouldn’t have to fly to get there, the mere height would be a strain for her. That was the last thing I wanted.
It didn’t frighten me to do this, to leave the sky behind and choose the ground. Perhaps my wings had never been woven for flight anyway. Maybe they’d been meant to protect her. But would Daphne see it that way?
For a few moments, she said nothing. I waited, giving her time to process. I’d known this would be a lot, but I trusted her courage.
The silence stretched between us, a heavy, expectant thing. Then, she spoke. Her voice was soft, but it cut through the dusty air with unshakable certainty. “I see now.”
The words pulled me from my reverie, and I was suddenly lost, adrift in the deep currents of her gaze. “See what?”
“This foundation,” she said, her hand gesturing to the gentle slope of the carved stone bowl. “What you’re building. It’s not just a place to sleep. It’s a place tobe.”
She took a small step closer, and the space between us seemed to hum with a sudden energy. Her gaze was unwavering, locking with mine. “You have built a home on a promise. I want to make a promise of my own.”
My breath caught in my throat. Hope, fierce and terrifying, surged through me, and I did not dare give it voice. I could only manage to say her name. “Daphne...”
Her expression softened, but the resolve in her eyes was as hard and real as the basalt beneath our feet.
“I’ve made my choice. I will enter the Bride Market.”
5
An Impossible Bid
Phonos
The last time I’d stood in this chasm for a Bride Market, I’d been a different creature. A desperate, hopeful fool, bidding his entire fortune on a woman never meant for him. The memory was a scar, and returning to the Agora of Echoes for this ritual felt like pressing a thumb against the tender tissue.
The air was the same, thick with the scent of a hundred different monstrous appetites. But the frantic hope in my gut had been replaced by a possessive certainty.
There was no turning back now. Daphne was mine, and it was a fact as real as the death energy burning through my veins.
Below, Phix stood at her rostrum of bone. As the final torches were lit, she raised a single paw. The guttural murmur of the crowd died, and in the sudden absence of sound, I could almost hear the resonance of Theron’s growl and of my own past humiliation.
“Creatures of Asphodelia!” she roared. “Blessed of Thanatos! The hour is upon us! Tonight, we offer not a simple death-touched, but a soul of unique quality. Daphne of Dodona. One who walked the mortal coil as a Seer, and who has willingly shed her gift to join our weave! A choice made of her own free will!”
At her signal, Daphne walked onto the obsidian stage. She stood tall. Unbroken. My mate. And the memory of Callista vanished, burned away by the reality of my true soul-bonded.
“Behold!” Phix raised her paws, as if her awe of Daphne rivaled mine. “A vessel of rare power, a spirit of immense worth! Let the test of that worth commence! What bid will you—?”
I didn’t let her finish. There was no point. I’d restrained myself from grand gestures until now, but there was only so much even my composure could contain.
“Twenty thousand crystals, from the Keres Spire.”
The quiet following my offer suffocated the assembly, pinning every monster in the Agora to their seats. It was the crushing pressure of a challenge met and answered before it was even issued. This, I thought with a grim satisfaction, was how itshould have been the first time. But I had no regrets, not when it had all led to this moment.
I watched Phix on her rostrum, waiting for her to formalize my claim. She recovered, announcing the bid with a note of finality that was music to my ears. “A bid of twenty thousand has been made. Do I hear—?”
A sharp offer burst from one of the basilisks in the lower tiers of the Agora. “Twenty-one thousand!”
A disbelieving gasp swept through the crowd, and then the dam of my authority broke. An eruption of noise tore through the chamber. A harpy’s high-pitched shriek of “Twenty-five!” was immediately drowned out by a dozen other monstrous shouts, each bid higher than the last. They were on their feet, a writhing mass of scales and fur and horns, staring at Daphne with a feverish, unnatural hunger.
It was just like at the cyclops’s produce stall all over again, except so much worse. This time, Daphne was the supposed merchandise.
A rasping hiss cut through the din, a noise of ancient greed that I knew well. “Thirty thousand! I’ll give thirty thousand!”
Phix’s composure cracked, her natural calm shattering into genuine shock. “The bid is thirty thousand from the gorgon!”
This was madness. Or was it, really? Maybe it was simple reality. They could all feel it. Her power. It radiated from her, a siren’scall to their base instincts, overriding all logic, all fear. And they wanted her, in a way that had nothing to do with soul recognition.
