Fuck.
With a sneer on my lips, I dig my fingers into the stone, finding divots to wedge my toes against—steadying.
I dare to look up. Squint through the strange, chaotic storm—
Nothing looks the same.
The rocky outcrop is gone, as though the tip of the mountain just cracked off and toppled into oblivion. Kyzari’s at the epicenter of the ongoing explosion rippling through the atmosphere like heat waves, still lying exactly where I left her. Still singing. Still clinging to Kaan’s málmr.
But she’s not looking at me anymore.
She’s lookingupas streams of silver light seep from the Aether Stone like oil on water. Thousands of them, ribboning all around, weavingtogether, congealing into the shape of a broad-shouldered being on his knees beside her.
A striking,otherworldlymale draped in a silver cloak that’s frayed at the hem, gusting with the pulsating waves.
He boasts a swathe of pitch-black hair, ebony skin, and startling silver eyes that glint like distant suns, alight with equal amounts of fury and devotion. They sweep over Kyzari, inspecting every bruise, cut, and speck of dirt she’s marred with.
Those silver ribbons continue to sketch out the shape of him as, with the gentleness of a rising aurora, he eases Kyzari into his arms—his mouth also moving in silent verses. Words I can’t hear but canfeeletching against my skin, likerunes.
He curls his arms, crushing her limp body against his barrel chest in such a way that I picture Bulder hugging Rayne, trying to keep her in one piece … even though it’s hopeless.
An ooze of silver light seeps from the being, into Kyzari’s many wounds, and I gasp, looking up. Meet those unbridled silver eyes.
It only lasts a beat before I’m expelled like a mouthful of spat meat.
I drop my chin, exposing the back of my neck in submission as I spear my gaze to the ground, feeling minced. Like I just got torn through.
Another tide batters me with such force my skin almost rips off my bones, the sheer power making it impossible to breathe.
It peels my fingers up …up—
I’m flung across the plateau, flailing. Manage to claw into a divot and stop myself from skidding past the plains, and probably all the way to Ovlaeve.
The surge loses enough of its punch that I’m able to draw breath, gulping it back while I find somewhere sturdy to wedge my boot and look up through my lashing hair, petrified of what I’ll see.
I sob, realizing it’s all in vain. Because amidst the heaving gloom, the two have shifted.
Kyzari’s no longer limp, lifeless, and crushed against the male’s chest.
No.
She’s on her feet with her hands flat on his chest, her white hair billowing. Her skin …unblemishedand lit with a healthy, luminous glow.
The male smiles with tender relief, his hands moving over Kyzari’s face. Like he’s mapping the shape and feel of her. She cups one, then steps closer, and the atmosphere pulses as he binds her in his staunch embrace, one hand splayed between her shoulder blades. The other cradles the back of her head and eases her into the crook beneath his chin with such benevolent devotion my eyes burn.
Still singing, Kyzari melts into the embrace, looking more at ease than I’ve ever seen her.
More athome.
And I realize how stupid I was to doubt her when she told me her heart already belonged to a Creator. It all makes perfect sense now.
Thisis him.
The God of Aether.
Immense wings begin to lift from amongst the billowy folds of what I thought was just a cloak, flicking out into a dominant silver stretch—almost the exact shape as Rygun’s, but frayed and droopy. Like bits have been torn free.
As they stretch, I glimpse the dark undersides, the leathery membranes like windows to unrecognizable skies. Gloomy voids speckled with stars and strange-looking moons and—
