The flowers themselves cradled him, spider lilies curling soft petals against his pale skin. His black hair spilled like ink across the blossoms, his chest unblemished where fire and blade had torn him open. His body looked carved of stone, but his face… his face was the same.
Perfect and beautiful.
Her sleeping beauty.
Alora’s hands trembled as she reached for him, brushing her fingertips against his cold cheek. He was cold to the touch, lifeless. He had no pulse. No breath. For a heartbeat, she feared the worst.
Then faintly, the markings on his skin flickered with red light at her touch.
There’s power in a king’s kiss…
And in a queen’s.
Alora’s heart quivered as she pressed her lips to his brow, then to his cheek. “Wake, my love,” she whispered, voice breaking. “Please come back to me.”
Her kiss lingered on his lips.
Light surged.
It rippled from her mouth into his body, weaving down into the roots of the tree, through the lilies, up into the branches. The entire Azure Tree shivered as if caught in a storm, sapphire leaves thrumming with power. The cavern filled with the song of her gift, her voice carrying life where death had reigned.
The sky above them rumbled. Thunder rolled. And Rune’s body arched as though lightning had struck him from within.
Rune gasped as shadows lashed, lifting him into the air. His chest heaved, his lungs dragging in their first breath since the smite. His markings flared bright, and from his back burst wings.
Six glorious wings, drenched in shadow and firelight.
He flew into the crimson sky.
Alora shielded her eyes as his rebirth shook the Netherworld itself.
Demons dropped to the sand, prostrating themselves before the storm of his return. The Blood Moon glowed bright above them. Rune’s power poured out like a tide, terrible and uncontainable.
And then his eyes looked downward.
Scarlet, blazing, molten pits of fire and then, at the sight of her, recognition dawned. His wings stilled. His shadows quieted. And the darkness bent to her.
“Ra’ayati…”
His voice fell from his lips like prayer, full of awe and disbelief.
Alora was already crying, but the sound of his voice broke her open. He descended, shadows wrapping around her like a cocoon, and she stretched out her hand as he reached for her. The bond seared back to life between them, fierce and wild.
She stared at him, at his skin. No longer marred like fissures of volcanic stone or dusted with dragon scales. His skin was dark like the expanse of the universe, flickering with the constellations of a thousand stars.
He cupped her cheek with trembling hands, warm again, real again. “Is this a dream?”
She laughed through her tears. “I surely hope not.”
Alora took his hand, pressing it against her cheek, and all of her shook at how warm it was. But then she glimpsed something unexpected. A glowing symbol on the inside of his wrist.
A god’s mark.
He was calamity unbound, reborn in full.
“Alora.” Rune searched her eyes, then looked up to the Azure Tree. “How is this possible?”
Her smile was faint as she traced the mark. “Well, I happened to see a bright light in the River of Souls, and I simply had to have it.”
