Page 166 of Burn of the Everflame

A star blinked to life in front of me, suspended in mid-air. Its soft glow pulsed like its own steady heartbeat as it slowly floated toward me. I reached out and cupped it in my hands, and the feeling of him bloomed across my body.

“Diem.”

I heard the whisper leave his lips before he turned around. The illusion vanished into mist, leaving us in the dim purple-blue of dusk.

“I didn’t feel you arrive,” he said. “Why are you—” His brows slammed into a glare. “Are those bruises?”

I frowned down at my empty palms. “Put it back.”

He dropped the axe and stalked toward me. “Who hurt you? I will fucking destroy them.”

“Put the moon back.” I tipped my hands down. “And the stars.”

He stopped in front of me, eyes ablaze as he scoured my injuries—but when they locked with mine, his anger seemed to pause and cock its head.

“Please,” I said.

He held my gaze as the moon reemerged behind him, casting him in silhouette until a sprinkling of stars glittered around us and tossed pinpricks of light across his olive skin. In the heart of my palms, a glowing form took shape—not as a star, but as a flower.

I smiled at the bloom. “Beautiful,” I whispered.

He gingerly brushed my windswept hair from my wounded temple. “Who did this to you?”

“I can’t tell you. If I do, you’ll go storming off to Umbros to put a sword in someone’s side.”

A gruff noise from his throat confirmed it.

“Why are you home early?” he demanded. “What happened? Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone’s fine.” I ran a finger over the flower’s shimmering petals. “You’re getting good at these illusions.”

His hand dropped to my shoulder, his thumb grazing the crescent scar on my collarbone. “Tell me what happened in Umbros.”

“Tomorrow.” I looked up at him. “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.”

His gaze danced between my eyes. He drew in a deep inhale, and when he breathed it out, tension slowly uncoiled from his muscles. He moved his hand beneath my cupped palms, and the flower’s form began to shift. Two wings took shape, then a long-plumed tail, and its birdlike head stretched toward the sky. I startled as a burst of pale blue fire engulfed the tiny creature. When the flames died down, it stretched its wings and took flight.

“A phoenix,” I gasped as it fluttered through the air, then perched on my thumb and preened its flaming feathers.

“You could do it, with a little practice.” He dipped his chin to the bird. “Try it. Give it a mate.”

My heart squeezed, hearing that word from his lips.

“The Centenaries tricked me into taking flameroot,” I said. “I won’t have magic for a while.”

He looked me over. “You seem remarkably calm about that.”

I wasn’t calm at all. Inside, my pounding heart and screaming mind were locked in a heated debate over what I’d come here to say. I still wasn’t sure I’d have the courage to do it.

The phoenix took flight again and circled around me, leaving a trail of glimmering embers in its wake. It flitted its tail across my face, and I scrunched my nose, laughing.

The illusion wobbled and briefly lost its shape, drawing my focus back to Luther, whose face had gone slack. “You’re smiling,” he breathed.

My soul wept a little, that the man I loved could be so stunned to see me smile. At him.

Suddenly, what I’d come to do seemed like the easiest choice in the world.

“I love you,” I said. “I never stopped. I love you more today than I ever have—more than I did yesterday, and more than I did the day before.”