The Queen of Death. It has a nice ring to it.
I drape one leg over the other and absentmindedly sketch my firebird as the silver-haired King of Winter walks the narrow strip of carpet to my throne. He’s devastatingly handsome with his full lips, strong jaw, and piercing blue eyes. A silver crown rests on his head, and the pale strands of his hair brush the sharp tips of his ears. Most gods are striking. But there’s something about him…something that makes it difficult to look away.
He bows before me, then rises. “Goddess of Darkness, Queen of Death. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. I brought you some flowers.”
He holds out a bouquet of rowan blossoms.
“Thank you, God of Ice, King of Winter.” I sigh. “Must we really burden ourselves with all these formalities?”
He cracks a grin that sends a flutter through my stomach. Interesting. I rarely feel like that from something as simple as a smile.
“I suppose not.” He gestures toward the double doors leading to my cliffside garden. “Walk with me? There’s something I’d like to speak with you about. I’ve heard some unsettling rumors about a group of apprentices who failed their trials. They’re angry at us—at all the gods for depriving them the gift of magic. And I hear they’re plotting revenge.”
I arch a brow. “Tell me more.”
“They call themselves the Order.”
The memories surge further back, then forward again, spinning so fast I can hardly make the shape of them.
His body over mine. His mouth against my skin.
“I love you so fucking much,” he breathes into me, and I arch beneath him as his lips come around my breast.
He stands before me now with his hand outstretched. There’s a bright spark in his eyes that lights me up in a way I’ve never felt. So much of me is given to darkness and death, and but he has brought me back to life.
Our allies—the gods who walk this earth—fill the upper tier of the Observatory. Above us, the stars glimmer through the open dome. Garlands loop from wall to wall, and rowan blossoms fill every spare surface. The air is thick with their sweetness.
“Angharad Morgan,” Arawn says at our side. We requested no titles be used here. Only our ancient names, unknown to most, to speak the binding oath. “Will you take Taliesin Wynn tobe your godfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in death and in life, for all time to come?”
“I do,” I whisper, tears of happiness spilling down my face. My heart…oh, it’s never been so full.
Arawn turns to my love. “And Taliesin Wynn, do you take Angharad Morgan to be your godfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in death and in life, for all time to come?”
“With every fabric of my being, I do,” he says, his voice rough with devotion.
Arawn beams. “Then I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Fire rages through the Observatory. Fear is normally a stranger to me, but it has found me now. The Order are a bigger threat than we ever imagined. They knew we would all be here together and brought iron nets to numb our powers and drag us away. I only escaped because the firebirds came for me, now screaming above through smoke and ruin.
If I do nothing…
I lift my shaking hands before me. The Order plans to strip the gods of our magic using Arawn’s harp, to funnel it into vessels for their king. To make him unstoppable.
A man with a heart of rot.
I can’t allow it. With any of our powers, he’s dangerous, but with Arawn’s in particular…
On my knees, flames roaring around me, I raise my hand to the smoke-filled sky and speak the word that might ruin us all. But at least I’ll drag the king down with us.
“Marwolaeth,” I whisper.
Magic rips through me in an unrelenting force. Too late I realize it’s wrong. Too much power is required for this. Too much is needed to break the stars. I try to contain it, to shape it into a veil, but it’s already beyond me.
It strips me down to bone and marrow.
My vision goes dark. Screams roar over the inferno that surrounds me.
And then I collapse, awake and aware but unseeing.
