“Tell me.”
“Swear it first.”
“Fine, I swear. Tell me.”
He let out an unhappy growl. “Apparently, your little brother kissed my little sister.”
A loud gasp shot from my lips. I whipped around to find them, and Luther grabbed me around my waist and forced me back into place.
“Liar,” he hissed, though amusement hid in his tone.
I clutched his arm. “When did this happen? Where? How do you know?”
“Last night. Lily told him she declined the proposal from House Byrnum, and then—”
“She did?” I squealed. Again I tried to spin back to the gallery, and again Luther’s arms clamped around me to hold me still.
“You swore,” he protested, now fully laughing as he pressed me close. “If you make a scene, she’ll never tell me anything again.”
“She told you?” I breathed, relaxing against him. Though his grip on me eased, his arms stayed wrapped at my waist. “She must really trust you.”
“I have your advice to thank for that. I was right to stay out of it.” His smile faded a little. “I’d rather know, so I can help them if they face any… obstacles.”
“And you’re truly alright with this? Even with the difference in their lifespans?”
He let out a resigned sigh. “It’s not what I would choose for her. Even in the best of outcomes, Lily’s heart will be broken. But perhaps…” He paused, his gaze heavy on mine. “Perhaps, for the right person, we endure the pain, because the torture of never having them at all is the more unbearable fate.”
My breathing went shallow.
“Luther,” I whispered.
Lily’s laughter cut through the din of the crowd, and my gaze drifted in search of her.
“Eyes up here, Bellator,” he teased, squeezing my hip.
“I’m a Corbois now, remember?”
“About that…” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small black box, and handed it to me.
My brow wrinkled as I cracked it open. On a bed of grey satin lay a golden medallion engraved with the Corbois crest—a near-identical twin to the one Aemonn had gifted me at the ball before I’d melted it away in my explosion of power after my father’s death.
“Consider it an early coronation gift.” There was an eager, boyish excitement to his tone. “I took the liberty of making a few adjustments.”
I squinted closer at the necklace. Whereas the phoenix on Aemonn’s pendant had been inlaid with sapphires to represent the blue eyes of the Lumnos Descended, this version had two dark grey diamonds in their place.
A smile danced at the corners of his mouth. “Like yours,” he murmured proudly.
I ran my thumb over the gilded disc and straightened in surprise when the tiny ruby set into the phoenix’s heart glowed bright scarlet at my touch. “How?”
“I infused it with a spark of my light magic.”
“You can do that?”
“Any Descended can. But what we put in, we can never get back. It reduces our power forever.” He peered up from beneath his dark brows. “So do me a favor and try not to destroy this one.”
I laughed, the sound coming out choked as emotion squeezed at my throat. “You’re really taking this vow of yours to never leave my side seriously.”
He didn’t smile, didn’t laugh—he only held my stare in his quiet, earnest way, his answer carved across his face as fiercely as the scar that marked his skin.
I lifted the necklace to put it on. As the disc spun on the delicate chain, something else grabbed my eye. I caught the medallion between my fingers. On the other side, instead of a smooth circle, this version contained a beautifully scripted B pierced by a pair of crossed twin daggers.
“Because you may claim House Corbois,” Luther said gruffly, “but you’ll always be Diem Bellator to me.”
My hand closed into a fist around the pendant, tears pricking at my eyes. I tried in vain to scrape some words together to explain what this gesture meant to me—what it meant that he had always honored my mortal family. That he had never expected me to abandon who I had been for who I had to become.
Without a word, Luther took my hand and tenderly pried my fingers open to pluck the necklace out of my grasp. He stepped closer and snaked the ends of the chain around my neck to secure the clasp.
As his hands pulled away, they paused, hovering just above my collarbone. “I promised to do whatever it takes to keep you alive today.”
“You have. You’ve done everything you could.”
“No,” he rumbled. “Not yet.”
His eyes followed his touch as his fingers pressed to my skin and dragged up the column of my throat. With the whole of Lumnos watching, the gesture felt as possessive as it was intimate.
My head warned me to pull away—instead, my neck arched toward him, heat pulsing through my blood.
He traced the edge of my jaw. “Forgive me. They all need to see it.”
“See what?” I rasped, barely able to speak.
“Who will come for them if they dare to come for you.”
Then his lips were on mine.
And nothing else existed.
There was no Crown, no Challenging.
No arena of spectators exploding in a gossipy uproar.
No Taran pumping his fist and yelling “finally!” at the top of his lungs.
No imminent death. No doubts or secrets or fears.
No Henri.
There was only the two of us—the loyal Prince and his cherished Queen. Luther’s lips, soft and adoringly gentle as they moved against my own. His hands, cradling my face like I was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. His body, flush against mine, a living shield against everything, and everyone, that threatened to tear us apart.
His mighty aura cascaded around me and within me, tasting me as deeply as his tongue. It spilled into my soul and branded me with his power, claiming me inside and out. The kiss was a warning to the crowd, but this was a threat to the gods themselves: If you take her from me, I will come for you, too.
It was nothing like the kiss we’d shared before. That had been all anger and lust, a battle of tempers bathed in blood.
That was an inferno.
This was a hearth.
Carefully tended over weeks of friendship, the traumas we’d endured, and the secrets we shared. A smaller flame, perhaps, but steadier. Strong. A fire that didn’t burn to consume, but to endure—to keep us warm through the perils of the dark, cold night.
Wrapped in his arms, for a fleeting instant, I started to believe everything might turn out alright. That somewhere at the end of this, true happiness might be waiting, after all.
But as quickly and unexpectedly as the moment had come, it was snatched away.
Remis clamped a hand on our shoulders and shoved us apart. “If the two of you are done putting on a show, it’s time to begin.”
Luther snarled and ripped out of his father’s grasp. Without another look, he turned his back and disappeared into the gallery of gawking Corbois, leaving me stunned and panting.
Remis pushed me toward the steps. “You can take one person to help you prepare.” He arched a brow over his shoulder. “It seems my son has removed himself from consideration.”