I hid a smile. I knew that tone. Despite the frown on his face, I was sure I had him halfway convinced to help me.
“Belekoroz.” His true name left my lips, stopping him before he could leave the room.
“Yes?”
He was quite the sight, wasn’t he? Hovering on the doorstep of my bedroom, all eager to please. Perhaps I’d been too harsh. Memories of the storm and Itzi’s death flashed through my mind. Noctis had helped me selflessly, without taking advantage. What could I say to an ally who had been there when I needed him most? Who had seen me at my weakest? Comforted me? Cuddled naked in bed with me afterward?
“Thank you.” That should sound harmless enough. “For being there for me.” My voice faltered.
“I could say the same.” Noctis didn’t comment on my floundering. “Besides, that’s what allies do, isn’t it?”
The faint amusement on his face as he left made me suspect he was indulging me. Clattering drifted over from the kitchen. Did he suspect how flimsy my defenses had become? Did he secretly gloat that he still had the power to affect me?
He was everything I shouldn’t want, yet all I craved after just one taste.
Always nearly too much—his firm touch, his overwhelming presence, his unexpected vulnerability.
And never enough—for my weak heart wanted more than his body or his allegiance.
I wanted all of him, with a single-minded determination that bordered on obsession. The companionship, the pleasure, the challenge. And yes, the darkness—I wanted to drown in it. But it was impossible. It always hadbeen impossible.
I simply want him to love me as much as I love him.My heart skipped a beat at the thought.
No, I corrected myself in near-panic. Not love—lovedhim. There was no way my doomed feelings for Noctis could have survived all that had happened, all that he and I had done. Not when I had worked so hard to banish him from my heart, when it had taken me years to heal the wounds he’d left.
Giving in would be a disaster. The dark prophecy Enlial had uttered so many ages ago still loomed over us:If war is inevitable, then a lasting peace can only be achieved if the Adept of Chaos is banished from Aron-Lyr. Forever.
Noctis had said it himself. As long as he lived, he remained the Adept of Chaos, its power drawn to him even if he could not use it. His feelings for me might have changed, but I feared his thirst for power remained. He still had not told me what exactly had happened when he had searched for the Chaoscrown. Part of me was sure he was still scheming to overthrow Aramaz. I needed to watch his every action while we worked together to counter the threat his former servants posed. If he made a move, I would have to stop him.
But maybe we would be a beautiful disaster.
The all-too tempting whisper in my mind finally compelled me to move, and I opened a drawer to pick out fresh clothes. I had just slipped them on when a loud knock on the front door echoed through the house.
Floorboards creaked as Noctis went to answer it. Then a familiar voice rang out, worry mixing with confusion in Tristan’s tone.
“Where is Rada? We need her help.”
CHAPTER
37
THE GOLDEN DAYS OF LYRHEIM
1800 years after the making of Aron-Lyr
Noctis
When I joined the other Aurea in the Temple of Order at my brother’s command, unease rose within me. The majestic building, a place of pure Light and Order, had always made me feel out of place. Its towering columns, carved from pristine white marble, reached toward the heavens, reflecting the golden light that streamed through the windows. The floor beneath our feet was covered in a colorful mosaic, depicting scenes of the Allfather’s creation of the world.
The task our Maker had given us required us to unite our magic—a thought I detested. In the beginning, everything went astonishingly well. Aramaz took the lead, his presence commanding and assured. He called in all our powers, weaving them into a multicolored tapestry that swirled and danced in mesmerizing harmony. The temple’s vast hall echoed with the soft hum of our combined magic, the air thick with energy. It was not much different from what I had shown Baradaz when we went to the Other after the Midsummer feast, only far more powerful, a force that could reshape reality itself.
Despite my initial reluctance, the rush of attempting something so grand together swept me away. Shaping the magic to create bodies and minds felt glorious. I smiled at Baradaz, feeling her flame, along with the others: my brother’s steady light, Zamani and Sha’am’s raging inferno, Ashur and Namtaz’s cool flood, Tanez and M’tar’s solid stone, Khiraz and Enlial’s flowing winds. We stood in a circle, our magic glowing on the white marble floor. For once, I felt I belonged with them, capable of achieving wonders beyond imagination. Together.
Everything went wrong when Baradaz reached for the Flame to gift the spark of life to our new creations, the Humans. Just as on the day she had made the stars, I couldn’t suppress my desire for her power, the hunger to wield it myself. This time, something within me responded.
But you can,it whispered insidiously.You have discovered a power just as great: the power of the Abyss, the power of Chaos.
As the Flame of Creation flowed into the still forms lying in the center of our circle, a dark pulse awakened inside me. I had sensed it before, but it had never been so tempting. Acting without thinking, I let it flow through me, a dark wave that enveloped with Baradaz’s power and that of our brethren. Order and Chaos, bound by the Flame. Pulled together and apart in an ethereal, endless dance. It filled the Humans, pulsing underneath their skin, granting them life.
