"Aria," he breathed, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against mine. His eyes were closed, his lashes dark against his cheekbones. "You are stunning."
"I thought I was fragile," I whispered, my hands tangling in the thick hair at the nape of his neck. It was softer than I expected, cool from the mountain air.
"You are," he rumbled, opening his eyes. Those warm, sorrowful brown depths swallowed me whole. "But you are also heavy. Not in weight, but in presence. You occupy all the space in my mind."
He shifted one hand, running it up my spine, pressing me closer until my chest was flush against his. The contact was grounding, a realignment of my world's axis.
"Little One," he sighed, the nickname vibrating through me.
I shivered, but not from the cold. I loved it when he called me that. Coming from anyone else, it might have felt condescending, a reminder of my mortality compared to their ageless power. But from Thane, it sounded like a vow. It was an acknowledgment of his duty to shield me, to stand between me and the storm. It let me put down the burden of being the Keeper, the Unbound Queen, the apocalyptic key, and just beAria. Just be small, and safe, and held.
Then, the bond flared.
It wasn't a subtle tug; it was a three-pronged strike of awareness slamming into the back of my mind. The golden threads connecting me to the other princes pulled taut, humming with sudden, intense clarity.
Kaelen’s presence hit first, a spike of hot, smokey jealousy that tasted like sulfur. He was down in the cavern, miles below, but I could feel his dragon pacing, his golden eyes narrowing as he sensed exactly whose lap I was sitting in. But beneath the jealousy, there was a grudging acceptance, a settling of his own volatile nature. He knew I was safe.
Flynn was a burst of amber sparks, amusement, sharp and wild. I could feel his wolf grinning, a sense of “about time”radiating through the link. He liked this. He liked that the pack was knitting itself together.
Elias felt like a cool breeze, a knowing shimmer of turquoise light. There was no judgment, only a quiet satisfaction, as if a piece of a puzzle he’d been staring at for centuries had finally clicked into place.
They knew. They all knew what I was doing, what I was feeling.
And I didn't care.
Let them watch. Let them feel the echo of Thane’s lips on mine. Let them feel the way my heart steadied when his arms wrapped around me. I wasn't hiding anymore. I was done with secrets, done with shame.
I pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye. The starlight reflected in his irises, making them look like deep pools of water.
"You aren't just a shim to level the table, Thane," I whispered, tracing the scar that ran down his jawline with my thumb. "You're the mountain the table stands on."
He went still, his breath catching. "Aria..."
"My mountain," I said, grinning, the words feeling right, feeling true. "Solid. Unmovable. Mine."
Thane closed his eyes again, a shudder running through his massive frame. He leaned his head forward, burying his face in the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply, his nose brushing the sensitive skin below my ear.
"Yours," he rumbled against my skin, the word indistinguishable, lost in the gravel of his voice, but I felt the intent of it. "For as long as the stone holds the earth."
I sighed, tilting my head back to give him access to my neck, my eyes drifting open to look at the night sky. The stars were bright, unclouded by the smoke of the village far below. It felt peaceful. For one perfect, stolen moment, the war, the Council, the Goddess hunting us…it all felt miles away.
Then I saw it.
Reflected in the glossy darkness of Thane’s eyes as he pulled back to look at me, a light bloomed.
It wasn't the warm yellow of a torch or the orange of a campfire. It was a cold, sickly teal. A harsh, chemically bright flare that cut through the darkness of the valley below like a corrupted star.
I stiffened in his lap. Thane felt my tension instantly. His hands tightened on my hips, his body locking into combat readiness before he had even turned his head.
"What is it?" he demanded, his voice dropping an octave.
I looked over my shoulder toward the distant silhouette of the Citadel.
A beam of light was rising from the highest tower, not the Sanctorum, but the darker, thinner spike of the Astronomy Tower. It shot straight up into the night sky, a pillar of viridian and teal fire that twisted and writhed like a living thing. It didn't look natural or even like any kind of magic I'd seen before.
It looked like an infection.
The peace of the last few minutes shattered like glass. "That light..." he rumbled. Thane turned, shifting his weight without letting go of me, shielding me with his body even as he looked. He hissed through his teeth. "That is not a signal fire," he growled. "That is sorcery. Old sorcery."
