Page 277 of Burn of the Everflame

I stared at my Queen. Though her stoic face revealed nothing, I knew her well enough to know she was debating the same question. I also knew her well enough to know that no other outcome stood a chance.

“Shunning people for their bloodline started this war,” I said. “I doubt doing the same will get us out. Though I do wish they’d come tomorrow. Your mating day has had too many distractions.”

Taran shrugged. “I’m glad it happened today. This is exactly why we didn’t postpone the party. Everyone here has a hundred reasons to hate each other or be sad. We wanted to remind them we still have reasons to⁠—”

“—sing?” I said.

He grinned. “Exactly.”

I threw an arm around his shoulder. “When the war ends, we’ll have another celebration. Just our closest friends. I’ll drink as much as you want, and I’ll make Diem teach me the raunchiest song she knows so I can serenade you. It’ll be everything you wanted your mating day to be.”

To my surprise, Taran didn’t laugh or flash me one of his looks that warned me he had plans for us I was going to hate. Instead, his features turned soft, and he gripped my arm with unexpected tenderness. “Let’s do it to celebrate the war ending instead. My mating day is already everything I wanted it to be.”

I studied his face, illuminated by the flickering blues and oranges of the magic-fueled firelight, immensely grateful to see the contentment I’d always prayed for him to find. Over our lives, his pain had built up like dust gathering on a vase on a high, unreachable shelf, its colors growing harder to see with every passing year. Zalaric’s love had washed it away, revealing the masterpiece beneath. He seemed older now, stronger, more mature—no longer the wounded boy I’d mentored, but a resilient, courageously loving man who had taken on a hateful world and won.

But Taran was still Taran, and when he suddenly clapped me on the back, his mischievous smirk made a triumphant return. “It looks like my new little brother is taking after me.”

He jerked his head toward Teller, who was bleary-eyed and shit-faced drunk, dancing with an equally inebriated Lily deep in the gardens. They wore lazy, indulgent grins as they swayed unsteadily to the lilting music. Lily whispered something in his ear, and Teller pulled her close. Too close, I noted with a scowl.

Taran squeezed my ribs. “I think Teller’s about to have a new body to research—sorry, body of research.” My eyes narrowed; Taran’s gleamed. “You know how studious he is. Stays up all night long learning every little detail about his subject. Really thrusts himself into his work.”

He cackled maniacally at my snarl. I liked Teller a great deal, just not when his hands were cupped around my sister’s ass. I wondered if Diem would forgive me if I cut them off.

Lily broke the embrace and flashed Teller a suggestive smile as she tugged him toward—to my abject horror—a boxwood labyrinth that was infamous among the Corbois cousins and their lovers.

I started toward them, and Taran gripped me hard to hold me back. “Don’t worry, Lu,” he said between chuckles, “I’m sure he won’t do anything to your sister that you haven’t done to his.”

My fist found Taran’s groin, and his laughter choked to a shriek. He doubled over, whimpering as he let me go, but his words had my eyes darting to Diem. She was looking at me, and she sharply shook her head. An order: Stand down.

The fight flooded from my body. Not at her command, but at the whisper of a smile on her face—a glimmer of happiness for our siblings, finding their way back to each other in a world that wanted them apart.

Suddenly, brotherly instincts aside, Lily and Teller’s determination to ignore a doomed future no longer concerned me.

It inspired me.

“Cousin,” I said, “I’m afraid Her Majesty and I are going to call it an early night.”

“Me too. Time to try out this mind-blowing mate sex everyone’s told me about.” He coughed, holding his injured crotch with a wince. “If this still works.”

He took a swing at me, aiming for revenge, and I ducked to avoid it. I smirked and turned my back to walk toward Diem. Even though my godhood prickled as it sensed Taran follow, I kept my shield down and let him plow into my back, tackling me to the ground. I let him dig a fist into my side, wheezing as he knocked the air from my lungs, and I let him grin down at me in valiant retribution. I even let him grab my face and plant an obnoxiously wet kiss on my forehead.

“You’re lucky the Blessed Mother forbids killing a man on his mating day,” I said.

He lightly slapped my cheeks. “I love you, too. You know, now that I’m a Bellator, when you mate Diem, we’ll be brothers instead of cousins.” He leaned in closer, eyes narrowing. “Wouldn’t that be nice? If you and Diem were mates?”

My heart thumped.

“You’re not Taran Bellator anymore,” I reminded him. “Zalaric’s the stronger mate. That makes you Taran Hanoverre.”

Taran’s face dropped. “Oh no,” he whispered.

I laughed. Loudly. “Oh yes.”

Taran shook his head. “Nononononono.”

“Better watch out for Aunt Iléana. Though, if I were you, I’d be more worried about Granny Marthe.”

He twisted around, shouting. “Zal? Hey, Zal! We have a problem. I can’t be a Hanoverre. I’m too fun!”