Page 297 of Burn of the Everflame

And I also let myself hope. Against all reason, I let myself believe that somehow, some way, there might still be a happy ending for us all.

Because hope was a spark. And sparks, when nurtured, could light a fire no darkness could overcome.

With that spark cupped fiercely in my heart, I led them down the river to the house Luther had built, and we wept all over again, this time with tears of joy. We planned our post-war antics: Luther and Teller fishing out on the sea while Mother tended the garden and I lost myself in books. We debated which of us Taran would insist on joining, and wondered whether his massive body would capsize Father’s boat. We planned dinners in the yard and holidays by the hearth, surrounded by the loved ones we’d collected from so many different walks of life. As we did, my anger at the Montios Descended slowly turned to pity. Their isolation might have given them temporary peace of mind, but it had robbed them of this beautiful, precious thing that could happen when you opened your heart to a world that was different than your own.

We talked, we apologized, and we forgave. Not all families stuck together, as we’d so painfully seen, but Bellators did. For Andrei, and for ourselves, we did.

And when we made the long walk back to the palace, I realized that somewhere along the way, I found the place where I belonged, and it wasn’t in any realm or building.

Home was people.

The people who chose me, scars and all.

66

LUTHER

Iawoke to the presence of an aura.

Though I could only have been asleep for an hour or two at most, my mind was instantly alert. In my chest, the pounding of my heartbeat matched the echo of my mate’s, both beats fast and anxious. My fingers curled, reaching for her warmth but finding a cold, empty space.

“Diem?” I called out.

I conjured an orb of light to illuminate my bedroom. The clothes I’d ripped off her the night before were no longer scattered over my floor, and she was nowhere in sight, though I sensed she wasn’t far.

I rose and quickly dressed. The day before had been a long one. I’d canvassed the streets of Lumnos City with my father and Eleanor, using every secret in their arsenals and every threat in mine to convince the Houses to fight. Then, I’d recruited Aemonn to ransack the palace for the weapons his father had stolen. Things between us were still tense, but Aemonn had set his mind to be less like his father, and I had set my mind to be more like my mate. She believed that everyone could be redeemed. I didn’t, but for her, I would try.

When Diem returned with her family that evening—our family, I thought, the reminder drawing a smile to my face—I’d stolen her away to my bedroom and ravaged her late into the night, knowing it might be our last chance to be alone for a while.

My smile faded at that thought.

As I approached the royal suite, I growled to myself at the empty hallway outside. I followed the pull of the mating bond into the foyer and through her bedroom, muscles relaxing at the sight of her standing on the terrace.

“I see you excused your guards,” I said. “Again.”

Her long white curls swayed silently in the evening breeze.

“If you’re thinking about what to get me for a Forging Day gift, I have an idea,” I said, striding toward her. “You could care about your own safety for one year. Or even one week. One night. I’ll take anything I can get.”

She didn’t look at me when I reached her side. Her face was turned south, and her hand was tightly clutched around the handle of her sword. She was already dressed in leathers—a new version of what she’d worn at the Challenging, with the sigils of all nine realms embroidered in rings around her wrists and a letter B stitched over her heart, pierced by twin daggers and topped by a nine-peaked Crown. I recognized the art as Eleanor’s hand, and the design was so strategically crafted for fighting that Alixe must have played a part, as well. It was the perfect image for a Queen leading her people into battle. A suit fit for war.

I wanted to take it off her and burn it.

I wanted to live in a world where she never had to wear it at all.

“Diem,” I said again, softer. “You should be asleep. And your guards should be at their post. You’re vulnerable without your magic.”

I slid a hand around the back of her neck, the only bare skin of hers I could find, and her eyes fluttered closed. The hand on her sword eased its grip as she leaned into my touch.

“Do you feel it?” she whispered.

“It’s faint. If it’s him, he’s still far away.”

“It’s him.”

“The former Crowns have strong magic, too. Perhaps Mireille or Ailani got your message and came⁠—”

“It’s him, Luther. I can’t explain it. I just know.”