It took him a while to ask his third and last question. “The magical creatures that made you scream my name in your nightmare tonight—what did they want?”
“The East Cardinal threatened to kill me if I didn’t give up.”
His sharp inhale was loud, and many of the navy sparks started moving so fast he lifted a hand and Took them away at once, leaving only her golden magic illuminating the room. He looked out the window to the night sky above the East Petal, staring at the moon as if its redness was the reflection of the East Cardinal’s wings. From the look on his face, one would think his ability to hate had multiplied exponentially for every bit he could no longer love.
“You have one more question,” he muttered.
Lenna didn’t need any reminders. She had been saving the most important question for last. It was now or never. It would give a lot up, it would throw part of her facade away, but she needed to know. She needed to know whether risking everything was the right choice.
“Do you wish you could love again?” She bit her cheek while she waited for his answer.
He narrowed his silver eyes, staring at her golden ones. “More than anything I have ever wished for, but I am not willing to put you in danger. My love is not more worthy than your life. I don’t wish my love back if the person I loved isn’t alive anymore.” Her chin trembled as his voice spoke the truth. “Let it go, Lenna. You must letmego.Now.”
Never, she promised herself, clenching her fists as she inhaled deeply. This was all she needed. This was all the information she needed.
The last navy spark she didn’t let go of was the one for which she was willing to set the whole fucking world on fire.
32
Hope
“The sky here seems different,” she said, admiring the night from one of the bridges over the lake. The West House, just behind where they stood, appeared to have a private conversation with the sky, the multiple crystals on its walls reflecting the endless abundance of stars above. From here, more than anywhere she had felt before, the night seemed alive. A supremely powerful entity.
“I always thought it was my courtrade blood and my West blood that made me feel more connected to the night from here.” In his embrace from behind, with his arms around her waist, Ciaran’s fingers brushed hers lightly.
She turned her head to look into the blue depth of his eyes. “Your scent has always been pure night and pine, which is…this. The West, this darkness, the brightness of these stars, you, your magic. All of this, all of you—it’s intoxicating.”
“Intoxicating in what way, bloodrose?” he whispered next to her ear, sending goosebumps to every part of her.
The low tone of his voice, the closeness of his lips to her throat, the way his voice caressed her skin like an invisible shadow… The apex of her thighs tightened in need for more, in desire to be not only surrounded by his scent and magic but also to feel him inside of her, filling her, making her fully and utterly his—because if there was anything in this world she truly was, it washis.
She had no doubt he could perfectly sense, probably even smell, the exact way she found it intoxicating, but he waited for her words.
“I want our bodies united together, sealed forever. I want the darkness of night and the red moon as witnesses of a bond that awaited centuries to be fulfilled, and will now certainly never be undone,” she whispered.
His chest inflated with much more than just air, and he offered her his biological hand as he said, “Then let me show you the real power of the night.”
Every fiber of her being quivered, yet she pressed her palm against his without hesitation. Every cell in her trusted him—completely, utterly, without question.
From his fingertips, shadows spiraled and twisted, forming a blindfold over her eyes. It pulsed, alive, protective—intimate. The touch of his hand against hers was enough for her to feel the warmth of his presence guiding her through the pine-scented woods.
Each step echoed softly on the forest floor, leaves crunching beneath their feet. Her body hummed in response, aware of hiscloseness, shivering as trails of thin shadows traced along her skin.
They walked and walked into the mountains around the West House. The scent of him and the night, of the pine woods that reminded her of growing up in Verdania, somehow increasing by the second. No enchanting magic could be as powerful as this feeling—as thisneed.
When he removed the blindfold, the world exploded into hypnotic brilliance. Above them, Llunal’s stars burned with impossible clarity, scattered across the sky like diamonds. Like Llunal’s very own masterpiece. Below, a naturally carved pool glimmered—perfect, ancient, and inviting. The surface reflected the constellations as if holding the universe itself on its glassy surface.
“This is the Mending Waters,” Ciaran said reverently. “The most ancient restorative pool in the West Petal. It has healed countless beings over centuries. Only the night speaks here.”
The beautiful pool seemed to be alive, its waters completely transparent and clear crystalline. Like the walls of the West House, multiple precious crystals and gems were buried into its ancient, raw walls.
Hope’s breath caught. Her body tingled with awareness, some of her Cardinal-red sparks consciously leaping to meet the residual shadows lingering from him, caressing her thighs and the small of her back. She shivered, trembling with anticipation and desire. Every heartbeat sent flickers of magic dancing across her, whispering promises and pleas she could not voice.
She swallowed, shivering at the scent of pine and night, the same soothing aroma that always clung to him. She let her sparks trace themselves across her skin, winding along arms, shoulders, thighs. Shadows crept alongside them, twisting, flickering, coiling. Every touch of her magic, every pulse, becamea wordless language:I want you… I need you… I trust you… I love you…
Ciaran’s breath hitched. He cupped her face, and his lips brushed hers, slow, deliberate, tasting, claiming. Her sparks danced faster, red and bright against the dark shadows of his magic. She gasped into his mouth, moaning, her hands skimming over the hard planes of his body, memorizing, feeling every taut muscle, every line of his arms, chest, waist.
Their hands moved with careful intent, undressing each other inch by inch, exploring every curve, every muscle, every line.
