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Safe.
The word rings hollow in my ears. Images flash through my mind—a decapitated form standing in silent testament to a people few seem to remember. The twin scars on Lyxander’s back. The chaos in the city today, the chimera tearing through the streets, the screams of the dying.
These people—my mother’s people—have been so isolated, so cocooned in their mountain sanctuary, that they’ve forgotten the world beyond their borders. They think their wards are impenetrable, their existence a secret. But I have seen the truth etched in skin and stone.
“Enough.” Queen Khione does not raise her voice, but silence falls in a heartbeat as frost creeps over the crescent table.
“If I may, Your Majesty?” the young woman says.
The queen waves her hand. “Speak, Councilor Galateas.”
“With your permission, I would like to oversee the investigation of these traps personally.”
The queen considers this, then, with a slight nod, she says, “Very well. You will lead the investigation, Councilor Galateas. Take whomever you require and report back with your findings.”
Councilor Galateas bows her head. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will not fail you.”
The queen’s gaze sweeps to our group. “As for you, Lyxander, and your kin, your presence is no longer required here.”
Lyxander inclines his head, and the rest of us follow suit. My heart is still pounding as we turn to leave, the weight of the council’s stares pressing against me. I force my feet to move, one step at a time, toward the door.
We’re almost at the threshold when her voice cuts through the silence, smooth and deliberate. “Oh, Aella.”
I falter, my breath hitching as I turn my head just enough to see her out of the corner of my eye.
“I look forward to seeing you on Aethernight.”
Chapter 38
Aella
The heavy doors of the council chamber close behind us with a low groan, but the tension lingers among us as we move down the hall.
The kin had just stood before their queen and council, facing scrutiny and suspicion, and lied without hesitation. For me. They could have let me face the consequences alone, could have distanced themselves from the truth. But they didn’t.
The thought settles over me like a fragile shield, one I’m not sure I deserve but can’t help clinging to, as we continue down the hall.
But we barely make it more than twenty paces when a voice cuts through the silence, smooth and feminine.
“Xander.”
It takes a moment for the name to register, but when it does, the familiarity of it halts me mid-step.
Lyxander has already stopped several paces away, his body angled toward the approaching woman. The way he stands—still, attentive—sends a strange, uneasy twist through my chest.
Councilor Galateas moves toward him with an an effortless grace, and I pause to properly take her in. Her wings shimmer such a pale silver they’re almost white, as if spun from moonlight, and her jet-black hair cascades like silk against her skin.
Her smile deepens as she stops before Lyxander. They exchange words I can’t quite hear, and then her hand lifts, fingers reaching toward the edge of his wing.
A wave of heat rises in my chest before settling into a simmering burn low in my stomach.
Before her touch can land, Lyxander rolls his shoulders, and the motion angles his wing beyond her reach. Her smile falters, a flicker of hurt crossing her face before she smooths it away.
I force my gaze from them, turning to find Silas at my side. “Who is that?”
Silas glances in Lyxander’s direction, his expression thoughtful. “Her name is Solenne. She’s recently taken over her father’s position as head of the Galateas bloodline. Before Xan left, they were…close.”
I glance back at them, catching the moment Solenne says something that draws a smile from Lyxander.
