His expression softens. “You were right about what I needed to do with the manticore. I embraced that side of me, and I can feel him now, more than ever. He senses me, too. And that’s all because of you.”
“So is the curse broken?”
Those dark eyes flash gold. “No, and I’ll never be free of it. My father thought he could break me by denying me my soul-fated and finding love, but what he didn’t realize is that even a monster can be worthy of being loved, too. He didn’t bet on you.”
Chest swelling, I stare at him, knowing how much he has struggled. “I’m glad you’re choosing to love yourself as you are, Dare.”
He swats my ass and sighs with equal amounts of exasperation and affection. “I’m saying I loveyou,Starbright.”
“Wait. You loveme?” I whisper, and he nods.
“I was lost from the moment you told me I have too much, and I quote,grumpy, asshole energy,” he says, lips quirking. “I have never wanted to laugh, fuck, or punish someone more.”
My cheeks heat as butterflies explode in the pit of my stomach. “Who knew that I’d fall in love with the grumpiest god of all?”
“You did?”
“Unlucky me,” I say teasingly, and kiss him. He mutters something vaguely threatening about bad girls getting fucked against my lips. Stars...yes, please—but I fight my surge of arousal, pulling back before he can deepen the kiss. “Wait, no tongue. I need to clean my teeth. And bathe before you get any wicked ideas about punishing me.” His eyes glint mercilessly as I push off his lap. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Only to get you something to eat,” he says, standing to his full impressive height. I try very hard not to stare at the obvious bulge at his groin, but fail miserably. A vicious, moral-smelting smile breaks over that gorgeous face when I nearly stumble over my own two feet. “You’ll need your strength, Starbright.”
My core trembles, warmth filling every space inside of me at the promise and the threat tied into one. Sands, Ilovehim. I don’t even know when it happened... when I stopped hating him and when he became the air in my lungs, the hope in my heart, and my whole starsdamned night sky. For a second, I rub at my sternum, feeling the oddest hollowness that doesn’t seem to belong in the midst of my happiness, like something—somethingvital—is still missing.
My magic, in its new ascendant form, feels untethered.
It doesn’t take me long to feel refreshed after a quick bath. When I’m done, I clean my teeth and comb my wet hair, leaving it loose to dry. I grimace at the pile of my sweat-soaked garments, then wander into the nearby closet and grab one of Darrius’s white tunics.
It fits me like a dress, so I don’t bother with pants and roll the sleeves slightly. I suppose I could easily magic a set of my own clothing, but the idea of wearing his is just too tempting... and strangely soothing.
He must think so, too, because when I emerge from the bathing room, his eyes go wide and then darkly possessive. “Nice shirt.”
“I thought so.” My stomach growls, and I meet him at the table near the window, where there’s a spread of different foods. To my surprise and delight, apart from fresh cut fruit and a basket of pastries, there’s a dish that looks and smells suspiciously like my aunt’s roasted and mashed tomato, eggplant, and herring, served with pieces of hot flatbread. I glance over at Darrius. “What is this?”
“Thought you might appreciate some comfort food. It might not be exactly like your aunt’s, but I hope—” I don’t even let him finish before I throw myself into his arms and plaster my mouth to his.
Once I’m done showing him my deep appreciation, I don’t waste any time settling cross-legged into my seat and inhaling the deliciousness, sopping up every last drop from my plate with the flatbread. I lick each one of my fingers clean, making a noise of satisfaction in my throat, and look up to the other side of the table to see Darrius utterly mesmerized.
“What?” I ask self-consciously, wiping a drop of tomato juice from my mouth.
“Everything you do is such chaos,” he says, but his tone is full of fondness tempered by wonder and a flash of desire when I lick my lips clean, too. “My beautiful, magnificent, unruly star. Devourer of darkness, defender of innocents.”
At his words, suddenly I recall my thoughts about Nuadar on the mountain. “Darrius, I think Nuadar might be the oracle,” I blurt out.
He goes still. “Why?” His reply is quiet, not defensive.
“It’s only a hunch. He’s a dominant corpus magi, but he’s brewed your so-called sedative for years. What if he is involved somehow, making you progressively weaker or more susceptible to the shift? He also came up with the idea for the dragon’s bloom, and I think that’s what made us unconscious.” I inhale, chewing the corner of my lip. I don’t mention that the oracle had called me Oryndhrian, much like Nuadar had. “And I believe he might be colluding with the Oryndhrians from something Masišta said when we were on the cliffs... about the reproductive cycles of the azdaha and their egg count. Only a beastmaster knows that.”
“He’s been with my family for years,” Darrius says, but then he stops and frowns as if the coincidences and timelines are too much to ignore. “I’ll tell Maxur to investigate.”
After I finish my meal, Darrius lifts a hand and a servant clears away the tray of food. He reaches for my hands across the top of the table, flipping them to stroke the lines on the inside. I sigh at the light touch. Our lives might be different, but traditions, prophecies, and beliefs cross paths and intersect across all realms.
“Can you read the lines?” I ask, turning my hands to flip his large palms upward.
“Chiromancy?” he replies, and I nod. “I know what they are, but I’m not a diviner by any means.”
I trace the topmost line on his left hand with my fingertip, hearing him suck in his breath. “I’ve never read the palm of a deity before. Will you smite me if I steer you wrong?”
His shadows flare out of him to flick and tug on a lock of my hair. “Never.”
