Thus, Kallan’s soul was sown into mortal blood—reborn not as a fae, but as a human bearing the light of the divine.
Chapter 1
?---- Serenya ? ----?
My hands tremble, dripping my lover's blood as I lift the flute to my mouth. I begin with his favorite song—the one we danced to at the first ball we attended together. The notes falter, the blood causing my fingers to slip. My breath is shallow, the tears fat and heavy. It feels as if my heart has been ripped from my chest.
I close my eyes, trying to picture us dancing. His warm hands on my waist—mine draped around his neck. I see those storm-gray eyes, hear the melody of his laugh as he teases me, throwing his head back and ruffling his already messy blond hair.
I imagine leaning my head on his chest, listening to the heart that he said always beat for me.
Except...it's not beating.
Even in my own mind, I can't escape the brutal truth of what’s happened.
I play the final note, my fingers stiff and unsteady, and slowly open my eyes. I can’t stop them from drifting down to his lifeless body. A sob breaks free from my chest, raw andgut-wrenching. My stomach twists, and my chest feels hollow, aching as though I’m dying alongside him.
My arms feel heavy as I lift the flute once more, performing the stardust rite. My tears continue to fall, mingling with the mud and blood at my knees. Kallan’s body begins to shimmer, its edges blurring, before it dissolves into stardust, drifting away in the wind.
After the last note fades, I drop the flute, whispering, “Come back to me.”
When all the stardust has vanished and the weight of losing the only male I have ever loved presses down on me, the pain becomes too much to bear. I let out a scream that slowly dies into a sob.
My eyes shoot open as I sit up, gasping for breath, like I’ve just emerged from drowning.
Gods, I haven’t had that dream in years.Seems fitting I would dream of it on the anniversary of his death.
I tossoff the plush white duvet and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Tugging open the dark green velvet curtains, I squint against the late morning sun that has already climbed high in the sky. The light shines through the room, harsh and unforgiving, as if the world doesn’t care that I’m broken.
I’ve overslept, but I can’t find the energy to care. Not this morning. I just feel...numb.
Sighing, I slide into a simple violet gown and pin back my white hair, letting the black strands in front fall around my face. A knock sounds just as I’m sliding on my slippers. Torin doesn’t wait for a reply before stepping inside, wearing his blackand gold guard uniform.
His bronze skin, wavy brown hair brushing his shoulders, and his six-foot-five height with his large muscle mass—from all his royal guard training—is a deadly, beautiful combination. He was Kallan’s brother in everything but blood. Their fathers had stood in the royal guard together, and their sons had followed them. After we lost Kallan, Torin requested to take his place as my personal guard, and he has since become like a brother to me.
“Ready?” he asks.
“What’s the point of knocking if you’re just going to let yourself in?”
“You always take too long opening the door.”
I roll my eyes but follow him out of my chambers. We walk in silence through sunlit corridors, offering polite smiles to passing servants until we reach the mahogany doors of the High Council chamber. Guards push them open with a groan of hinges.
I step inside with my head high, the soft rustle of my gown trailing behind me. Torin shadows my steps, hand resting casually on his sword hilt.
The chamber smells of incense and old stone, sunlight filtering through stained glass. At the crescent table, in the middle of the room, sits the council of elders, commanders, and advisors. Sitting at the center of the table,in her gold crown and long red hair, is my mother, Queen Zephyra.
“Serenya,” she says. “Please, sit.”
I obey, folding into my black cushioned chair as Torin takes his place behind me.
Lord Cahir clears his throat. “We are meeting today to discuss the Trials of the Fated. As you know, Princess, they were set to begin next moon. However, due to King Thalon’s quickly declining health, we have voted to move the trials up. They will begin this week. The champions will arrive tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?!” My chair scrapes loudly against the floor as I shoot to my feet. The walls seem to close in around me. I wanted more time—neededmore time.
My mother gives me a disapproving glance.
My heart pounds in my chest, but I force myself back into the chair. Clearing my throat, I manage, “My apologies. Please, go on.”
