Voice still rough, he said, “Caius’ residence is at the end of the hall, flanked by Artton’s and Sidrick’s. You don’t have to call it home, but for now, it’s the safest place for you.”
And although I wished it weren’t so, I knew there was truth in his words.
Before I could speak, Endymion gestured to the white archway, which seemed to pulse with anticipation—as if calling me into its embrace. “Let me walk you to the doors,” he said, indicating for me to go ahead.
“Doors? As in plural?” I asked, eyes darting to his.
“Yes, as in plural,” he said, his voice honeyed by a soft chuckle deep in his throat.
Curious, I stepped past him toward the archway, the soft scent of roses enveloping my senses. As I crossed the floral barrier, utter darkness stole my sight, and I instinctively stepped back only to collide with Endymion’s hard frame. Pulse kicking, I froze, then shifted away from him just enough to break the connection.
“It’s okay,” Endymion soothed from behind me. “The residence is adjusting itself to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just wait,” he whispered. “I promise it’s something you’ll want to see.”
Heart still pounding, I looked out into nothingness, my eyes trying feverishly to focus on what didn’t exist.
“Endymion—”
“Patience.”
Something about him—his voice, his body heat, his presence—wrapped itself around me, as if to remind me I was safe. Andalthough my mind kicked at the soothing weight of him, my body uncoiled.
As my breaths slowed, the tunnel illuminated.
From the opposite side, sparks of color in mesmerizing teals, blues, pinks, and turquoises swirled as they lazily danced their way toward me, just as they had in the void.
A bright ember emerged from the rest, stopping a lover’s distance away. Hovering in place, I somehow knew it was as curious about me as I was about it.
I lifted my hand in offering, the small movement making the spark hop back as if startled. Its sudden retreat had me jerking away.
“It’s okay,” Endymion said, his voice impossibly soft, and I couldn’t tell if his words were meant for me or the sentient magic.
Tentatively, I offered my palm again and swallowed, silently sending my intention its way, letting it know I meant no harm. The ember seemed to stir, its curiosity piqued more than its fear.
I stayed utterly still as it cautiously drew closer, then slowly—so slowly—lowered itself onto my fingertips. My breath caught with an audible gasp as a soft pleasure passed through me—like a stolen moment basking in the sun’s embrace or a delicacy slowly coating my tongue.
I watched as its deep violet color seeped into my fingers and then into my veins. The rest of the embers seemed to buzz with delight, and without knowing why, I brought two fingers together and snapped them, conjuring a tiny Spark of my own.
The tunnel erupted into a flurry of colorful chaos, and a wide smile broke through my past as I stared in complete and utter awe. Then, in a blink, everything stilled—as if called to attention—then shot toward the draping flowers, staining their pristine white petals with their beauty.
Gone were the white roses. In their place hung tiny, dangling flowers of every animated color, as if the dancing embers had been frozen in time. A light breeze fluttered through the vines, and for a fleeting moment, it looked as if they dancedonce more.
Tears pricked my eyes as I turned to Endymion, needing to see his expression.
His eyes glittered with reverence as he looked down at me.
“It’s… beautiful,” I managed.
“Yes,” he said, and I wasn’t entirely sure he was talking about the flowers.
Chapter 4
High Fae
The doors clicked shut behind me as Endymion took his leave, and I noted his absence more than I cared to admit. I breathed in deeply and shook off the feeling before taking a few cautious steps forward.
