“Then consider this a farewell gift.” He extends the box.
Curious, I open it and draw in a soft breath. Black fabricspills into my hands, threads of gold running across it like constellations scattered across the night sky. It shimmers faintly, as if it drank in the starlight itself.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
Dimitri smiles softly. “You’ll need something worthy of a ball, won’t you? Something better than any of those fae gowns you own.”
I lift a brow. “You’re giving me fashion advice now?”
He chuckles. “I wouldn’t dare.” Then he nods towards the dress. “It’ll look perfect on you. Regal, dangerous, and radiant. Exactly how a princess should look when she’s about to make the whole kingdom eat out of her hand.”
I laugh softly.
“I couldn’t let you go back to your people looking like some brooding shadowling skulking in the corner.” His eyes meet mine as he quietly adds, “You’re meant to own the room, Serenya.”
I clutch the gown tighter, shadows curling at my feet, stirred by the anticipation thrumming in me. “I’ll come back next week, after the ceremony.” The promise slips out before I can stop it—soft but certain.
Dimitri squeezes my arm, his voice low, almost protective. “You’d better. Don’t make me come drag you back myself.” Then, with a teasing little wink, he adds, “And when you do come back, make sure you bring Koen with you.”
Once again, heat rushes to my cheeks before I can stop it, my shadows betraying me by curling higher around my ankles.
I really hate how my body responds to the mere mentionof him.
I duck my head, clutching the gown tighter. “I’ll think about it,” I mutter, though the quick flash of amusement in his eyes tells me he’s not fooled in the slightest.
He smirks. “Oh, you’re not going to think about it,” he drawls smoothly. “You’re already planning how to keep him all to yourself.”
“Shut up,” I snap, but my voice lacks bite, and his laughter follows me as the shadows rise to carry me away.
Chapter 32
?---- Koen ? ----?
This time, I dream of a cave half-shrouded in mist. The lake laps at its edges, silver beneath a sky that holds no stars. Shadows press close, but the place doesn’t frighten me. If anything, it feels safe. Familiar.
I take a step closer, my hand stretching toward the entrance. But before I can cross the threshold, I wake.
My muscles are stiff, my heart hammering in my ears. I sit up in my bed, letting the sheets fall to my waist. The ache doesn’t leave. It shouldn’t even exist. Dreams are supposed to fade, not leave bruises. Yet, these have. Every night.
It’s been a month since the second trial. A monthsince I last saw her. A month of confusing dreams. Of training. Of her occupying every corner of my mind without my permission.
I drag a hand down my face. Why do the dreamshave to feel so real? Like something I should have lived. Something I’ve lost. I feel like I’m losing my mind.
I push the thoughts away, frustration driving me from bed. Even though I’m not meeting Torin today, I wrap my cloakaround my shoulders, slide my boots on, and grab my sword. Training will settle me. Hopefully.
The training yard is pale in the morning light. Dew clings to the stone beneath my boots. I take a deep breath, letting the cold air burn my lungs. Step, strike, pivot, parry. Muscle and will flow together in a rhythm I know by heart now. Sweat gathers along my brow and spine. The strain tethers me to the present, keeps the weight in my chest from consuming me entirely.
I switch to magic. Golden lines flare across my arms as sunlight blooms in my palm—warm, sharp, and unrelenting. I shape it into spears and arcs that scorch the practice wall. Each burst drives the tension further from my body, yet the longing stays, pulling at my chest with every motion, whispering her name.
I have to be strong. I have to be ready. The third trial awaits. They still haven’t told us what it is, but failure is not an option—not wheneverythingrides on my success.
My mind drifts to Serenya. I can’t keep her from my thoughts, no matter how hard I try.
A month without her and still no news. Torin and Alira just repeat themselves like broken instruments. I tried asking. Tried begging.Resting. That's all I ever get. She could be anywhere. Even…with him. The vampire. That thought stings more than I want to admit.
I just need to see her. To know she’s well. To hear her voice, even for a moment. To know that whatever these dreams are, she exists outside of them.
I train until my arms burn, until the sun shines pale goldacross the training yard. Sweat clings to my skin, my hair plastered to my temples. When I finally stop, I sheath my sword, letting the tension in my muscles dissolve slowly, one deliberate step at a time.
