I lifted my head, looking in her direction with raised brows. “Your curse stands. All of this,” I said, gesturing around, “exists outside the realm of possibility.”
Niandra chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit I recognized from Calia. “I have been waiting for you a long time, Rion D’Arcy. Even if I did not yet know your face,” she murmured, her voice low.
“So many moons have passed since I was forced to intervene in the conflict between fae and vampyres, and yet, it seems like no time has passed at all. I never intended the curse to stand forever. It was only meant as a means to unite the two factions.” She turned, watching the rushing water. “The webs of fate often do not show their patterns until the spinning has already begun. This unfortunate detail has caused me more grief than I care to admit as I watched destinies crumble from my meddling. But it matters not, dear Rion, for you and my beloved Calia have righted my wrongs.”
“I do not understand,” I said slowly.
Gracefully, she stood, wrapping her arms around herself as she looked over the land. “What is the measure of peace, Rion? Is it the lack of warfare and bloodshed? Or is it something small and quiet? A moment of realization dawning as you look into the eyes of your first-born son?”
“Perhaps it is both,” I said, drawing her attention. “You cannot have peace amidst warfare. After all, the crusade for peace often leads to atrocities, is it not?” She nodded. “And whileI am not a father, I do not question the ability to find solace in your children. The antithesis of war is not peace, it is creation.”
“Wise words,” she said, smiling. “But this is where my problem lies. There is no possibility in which the curse can unravel itself—which leaves those affected living in a continuous loop that shows no end.”
“Is there no ritual?” I asked in confusion. “My mother?—”
“Your mother was a delusional woman who thought she could outsmart the gods,” Niandra snapped, rubbing her temples. “Like so many other D’Arcys before her, she believed Calix Darrow had hidden the secrets below his palace before it was destroyed. Many lives have been claimed in the pursuit of this so-called cure, but I can assure you they have all been in vain because no such thing exists.”
“There is no cure?”
She shook her head. “Not in the way your ancestors believed, no. I will admit that I failed to understand what would satisfy the magic when it should have been simple. Surely, one would consider the act of marriage to be the perfect unification of two warring factions. Eventually, the original pairing came to love each other and ruled side-by-side for centuries before they met their deaths. Yet, why was the union not sufficient?”
“Because they did not produce an heir?” I asked, unsure of the point Niandra was leading us to.
“It is more than that. It is the fact that their love was not deemed true. They cared for one another as you and Corvina had.” I flinched at her name. “The two of you would have lived out the rest of your lives together if given the chance, but duty does not equate to love. And it was not until you and Calia were wed that I began to see what had been missing.”
She stepped forward and cupped my cheek, reminding me of how Jasper’s mother often did the same. “The sacrifices each of you made for one another demonstrated the possibility of alife beyond prejudice. That even after millennia of hatred and animosity, two people who had every right to hate each other could find a love so true that not even death could keep you apart.”
I blinked at the goddess, attempting to understand what she was saying yet struggling to believe the truth of her words. “The curse is… broken?” I asked.
“From the moment you took your last breath,” she confirmed. “I must confess, I found it rather ironic that the answer to your ancestors’ plight was the very thing they wished to prevent. But I suspect it would have never been enough. As Leonora proved with her hunt for the dagger, the D’Arcys wished for power that was never theirs to own. It was why I originally sought to intervene between fae and vampyre affairs long ago, but you, it seems, are different.”
I closed my eyes, letting Niandra’s words fall away. Instead, my thoughts filled with the sight of Calia’s face when she would at last feel the night-kissed wind on her skin and bask in the moon’s glow for the first time. She would tip her head back and laugh as she danced beneath the stars until sheer exhaustion took her.
Only then would I lay her down beneath the soft silver light and make love to her, claiming her body, mind, and soul as my own until the day burned bright.
Though we had an entire life before us, I did not want to waste another moment without her by my side. We had spent enough time apart, fighting for a future we never thought possible. Now that it was…
Niandra stepped back, holding out her hand for me to take. “It is time to go home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
All I felt was pain.
Unbelievable blinding agony radiated from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, which was now filled with memories that seemed more like dreams than reality.
The sound of bickering voices reached me, discordant distress rising above the pounding ache in my skull. It was almost enough to make me wish for the calm of death once more. I struggled to discern who was who as they began to speak over one another.
“Leave her alone, Jasper. She isn’t ready?—”
“But it’stime. His body needs to be prepared?—”
“She really must let us?—”
“I saidno,” Calia growled. “And I swear I will cut your fucking balls off if you come near him, Jasper.”
“You won’t do anything,” he snapped. “You’re hardly capable of taking care of yourself now.”
“Jasper, stop it!” Rowena admonished. “If she needs more time, then she needs more time.”
