Obsidian lifted his head. The gargoyle stood to his full height, his long tail dragging behind him. His heavy foot stomps shook the dais, yet I was rooted, anchored by eyes of a tempestuous sky that trapped me in its storm.
“Presenting the Seraphim from Edenael. The carrier of Holy Fire. Beauty of our isle. Jewel of our kingdom. Nahomie Emélie...”
Obsidian paused for dramatic effect. Tassarion’s eyes were glittering. He possessed me with a fierce stare, ready to declare to his entire kingdom that I was his. And that he wasmine.
“Everthorn.”
Gasps broke out across the ballroom. The Mortevainyen citizens lifted their hands to their mouths, shocked at the sound of the surname.
“Roièssaof Mortevain Island.”
An explosion of starlight cascaded over the ballroom as Obsidian finished his declaration. Every Gargorètti, Nanmiess, and Esprit waltzed into the hall and passed me like a small army. When they reached the floor, they bowed to their knees.
Tassarion started walking towards me then, descending step after step, deliberately slow as his six wing pairs dragged behind him like a black veil running over rippling water. The ballroom was deathly silent as the Angelkind, Shifterkind, and Faekind watched him.
Tassarion crossed down the middle of the ballroom floor. He walked down the length of our manor attendants and stoppedat the base of the staircase I was perched on. Then my king, my wingmate, my other half grinned, his facial stitches stretching with his knitted skin.
“My Vainyen Everheart,” he rumbled. Commanding. Possessive.
I shook at his claim of me in front of the islanders.
Then the King of Mortevain bent down on both his knees and lowered himself in a bow.
Chapter 31
Nahomie
Tassarion Celèstian Everthornplaced a hand over his hearts. My eyes burned with fresh tears. Every islander in the chamber lowered to their knees. Those with wings lifted them before folding their wings over their heads until they rested on the floor as they bowed. This was the greatest show of reverence. Honor. Trust and respect. And Tassarion, along with the islanders, had bestowed it all on me. I choked on my emotion before Manmi’s voice cut through the thick in my mind. She’d engrained in me proper etiquette and confidence.
“When the dawn arises, you will cross into chambers that make you feel small, lengthen your shoulders and lift your head. The Infinite would not see fit to place you in chambers your wings cannot carry. Should the door open and the opportunity arise, crush the head of false humility. Lift your head, myfifi, and walk with pride. For you do not walk into chambers, Nahomie. Never forget that youarethe chamber.”
I obeyed Manmi and her lifelong principles.
Chin held high, I let my seven wing pairs tumble behind me like a veil. Then I gradually descended the steps without rushing. Without panicking. I was their Roièssa and I would carry myself as such. No one moved a muscle until I reached Tassarion. Theking kept his head bowed low until my fingers grazed his crown and lifted his chin to me.
“Mi Amouré,” I purred. “Mi Roi. You honor me.”
Tassarion’s molten gaze rose to mine, filled with insatiable hunger. With passion. Primal, feral, protection. He rose to his feet, instinctively curling a wing around my waist before lifting my laced hand to his lips, kissing every knuckle while his burning gaze held mine.
“I am unwell, Emélie. You didn’t warn me you’d look likethis.”
I grinned as I caressed him with blackfire for all to see. My flames curled around his shoulders. His waist. Through his hair. Mine. Allmine. Tassarion tenderly pulled me to him, then spun me around to face the hall.
“All rise.”
The islanders rose to their feet. A sea of brown, colorful, and curiously distinct faces looked on us both, their eyes telling a thousand tales. This twinight would be spoken of for a long time. While I was pleased, I was no fool.
Among the pride, the joy, the hope of this moment, I spotted vehement rage, jealousy, and poisonous hatred. I didn’t know these islanders. But I memorized their eyes. Their wings. The tension in their shoulders. That tautness in their jaws.
“You should have done a better job of only inviting islanders who actually love the Everthorns, yeah?”I spoke down the bond. Tassarion laughed.
“Now where would the fun be in that? Let them try it. They’ll be dead before they can make it to the courtyard.”
“No bloodshed this twinight, Celèstian.”
Tassarion snorted so loudly my mind rang with the sound, though externally his expression remained stoic. Royal.
“No bloodshed. Sure thing, my optimistic little phantom. Sure thing.”
