“When we leave for the Unknown Gate, come with us,” I said. “When we conquer all Seven Gates, when the curse is lifted… there is a place you could go. With my…” The words stuck in my throat.
I could do this. For Garrick. “With my family.”
“Koryn…”
“It will be a long journey. They live on the southern coast, in a small fishing village. But Kyrelle, she is…” How could I possibly explain that she was my dead sister’s great-granddaughter a dozen times removed? “She is mine. She will take you in.”
It was an insane proposition. She was a human woman in the latter half of her middle age, on a cursed continent, trapped in a fae castle. But Velora might not be cursed much longer. And when it wasn’t, everything would change. I would not return to my coven. Garrick would not owe any more allegiance to his father and the fae court. And Syleris… well, I’d figure him out later.
But we could be free. All of us.
Rylynn’s face had stayed with me ever since the Peace Gate. It did not haunt me, exactly, but it lingered. She lingered. It was becoming more and more clear to me that in order to save Velora, to protect Kyrelle and Isanara and Tomin and everyone else I’d come to care for, I was going to have to sacrifice a part of myself. Defeating Maura and the fae king would require me to embrace my power—and the darkness within me, whence it came.
But helping Iravena was not an action painted in shades of gray, and that made it even more important to me.
Iravena winced. I had not realized how hard I had squeezed her hand. I released it at once, but she did not retreat. She looked at me hard, with an intensity that I’d felt many times.
“I will ready my things,” she finally said.
My chest threatened to cave in on itself. “Thank you,” I breathed.
I understood Garrick better now. Maybe more than ever before. There were no more walls to erect. No more distance between us. Not now, not ever again.
CHAPTER 42
GARRICK
I’d seen the gown.Of course, I’d seen the gown. It had been hanging on the wardrobe for the past few days. But seeing herinthe gown… nothing in my life had prepared me for this version of Koryn.
Balar Shan was not ready for her.
The fae court was awash with beauty, but it was muted by the layer of ice that coated everything. The colorful spires of the towers were dulled, the intricate patterns of brickwork harder to distinguish beneath the snow.
But not Koryn. The frost and ice could not diminish her. They were a part of her.
The lavender gown had an almost silver cast to it that shimmered as she moved. It clung to her hips and waist, emphasizing her sumptuous curves before it fell into a heavy skirt. There were wide slits cut into the velvet to create movement, and panels of silk in the exact same shade of silvery purple sewn into those slits. Emerald and turquoise embroidery danced along the entire garment, evoking vines or scales, bringing the garment fully to life.
I could just make out the lines of her corset beneath the bodice. I begrudged the boned garment that it got to touch herskin while I had to content myself with looking. The square neckline of the gown should have felt severe, but it only enhanced the appeal of Koryn’s soft body. I wanted to make love to the swell of her breasts. To run my tongue along that soft pocket of skin where her arm met her breasts.
Koryn exhaled a shaky breath, the skin beneath her collarbones fluttering.
“Will I meet the expectations of the fae court?” she asked.
There was more than a little sarcasm in her voice. But I also caught the undertone; the slight unease that lined her words.
I couldn’t imagine her being nervous about how she measured up physically. She had to know how beautiful she was. Something was bothering her. But I had to trust that she would tell me when she was ready.
“There is no comparison,” I told her truthfully.
Her eyes softened.
I was afraid to reach out to her. The fabric of her gown was so beautiful and delicate. Even the sleeves were intricately detailed. They billowed out, much wider than her arms needed, hanging down in elegant triangles of translucent fabric.
My mother had made my costume, too. Instead of black, she’d chosen the deep blue of twilight reflecting off of raven’s wings. It was the same shade as the ink of the Lifebind.
Koryn regarded me with the same intensity I had her when I walked into the room. Her eyes took in every detail, from the line of gilt buttons that ran up the outside of my boots to my own embroidered details. My surcoat was quilted, as always, but the pattern was different. Instead of a pattern of squares, my mother had created a series of overlapping feathers using shimmering thread against matte blue wool.
Koryn reached out a hand to examine the detail with her fingertips, but she only made it halfway. We slept in each other’sarms, but that hesitation remained. We were still afraid of breaking each other.
