“If you find yourself in need of refuge, there is a room for you, too,” he said, taking her hand. His skin felt like sunbeams on a clear midday stroll as he slipped a gold-banded ring on her right index finger. The ocean blue gemstone at its center was simple in its fitting, but glorious all at once. “If you need me, recite the engraved words and I’ll find you.”
A tear threatened to fall from her eye. Altair, although arrogant, was kind. He always had been.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded and with a snap of his fingers, was gone.
“I’ll be up in a moment, Proc. You can retire withoutme,” Tethys said, her pulse quickening at the thought of it.
“Don’t keep me waiting too long, Spring Queen,” he said. Polaris threw him a pointed look before he disappeared into the hallway.
“Can I come with you?” Tethys asked, her voice trembling.
“I’m sorry, sister. Truly. I wish I could protect you from him. He always was a brute.” Polaris’s voice was low and saturated with heartbreak. Was it guilt that hummed in the back of her sister’s throat?
Tethys wondered if her two oldest siblings would ever be forced to match. Although immortal, their bloodline was still at risk. Now more than ever. Eos and Astraeus were both young in their existence when their essence dissipated into the aether.
Out of necessity, Obscuros and Phosphora produced four heirs, but love favored them in their union. Only a child of pure immortal blood could secede the throne. Tethys flinched at the thought of one day carrying Procyon’s heir. She knew that duty was swiftly approaching with the rise in tension between the realms—un-remedied by their union.
But, in the depths of her heart, she also knew that when the day came, she’d accept the responsibility even if it meant letting the strips of herself she clung to so desperately slip away.
This was for the best. This is what’s right.
“We are bound by the fates,” Tethys said, her voice steady in its resolve.
“Regardless of fate, it breaks my heart to simply stand by,” Polaris said, brushing her hands across Tethys’s cheek. Her amethyst eyes glittered in the moonlight as it beamed in from the windows.
“I should retire before he gets too impatient,” Tethys said, fixing her gaze on the grandfather clock. Tears threatened to fall and she knew if she risked even a glance at hersister, the dam would crumble away.
Polaris nodded and gave her sister one final hug. “Can I take Eos’s edition with me? I’d like to cross reference it with a few of the ancient northern texts. I promise I’ll return it safely to the Venian archives when I’m finished.”
“Sure, sister. Just as long as this isn’t the last time you’ll visit me,” Tethys replied, tucking the edition safely in her sister’s arms.
“I love you, Tethys. Never forget that,” she said, disappearing into the thick mist of night.
Chapter 43
It was physical agony in the purest of forms being unable to rescue Tethys from the despicable wrath of her husband only a few doors down from the hall. Earlier in the night, when the autumn king grabbed her wrist and tightened his grip, Araes nearly lost himself to the white hot rage that flooded his vision. He rooted into the soles of his boots and cringed with every movement carried out from across the ballroom.
Worse even, when Procyon pulled Tethys into his space and stuck his tongue down her throat in the presence of all of their mortal guests, Araes’s heart ripped apart. His legs screamed for him to move, to pullhisgoddess away from that fucker. To take her far from here and keep her safe in a life so vastly removed from the toxic sludge that flooded her world. But, he reminded himself that these were the workings of the gods. Procyon could snap him like a twig if he so pleased.
Now, he paced the floor of his small, depressing bedchamber and counted the seconds until the clockstruck early morning. He knew the autumn king would be gone with the sunrise, just as he always was—back to Canissa and their search for the rebellion leaders. Not a moment past the first beam of light, he’d run to Tethys’s chambers.
Not only to make sure she was unharmed, but to hear about the events of the night, and tell her what he’d learned of his so-called commanding officer. He’d panicked as he watched the three immortal women slip out the back ballroom exit and into the shadows. When Obscuros excused himself and trailed their path, Araes fought every urge to follow suit.
Araes had never been one for dancing, but he wished more than anything to hold Tethys in the center of the crowd once more. Her eyes electrified with the music and the rough exterior she fought so hard to maintain softened slightly. Hers was resilient beauty amidst an ugly world. She was the melody itself as her lips parted into a grin that could melt even the thickest of snowpack. His heart jolted at the thought.
Tethys brought color back into his limewashed world.
She was a sprouting fiddlehead in a forest poisoned with blight.
She was a trickle of water on a tongue long since parched.
She was time and space all at once.
Around her, the void Enyo left when they buried him beneath the earth didn’t hurt so much.
These thoughts were beyond hazardous in their current climate, yet they refused to be ignored any longer. Araes slumped into his desk chair and braced his elbows against the smooth surface.
