Calloused fingers skimmed over her exposed shoulder, and she turned to find Tharen close to her side. Had she been so consumed by her fears, she had missed him?
His white hair was still undone, falling freely around his shoulders, his pointed ears poking through. It was a strange sight, one Luella found she didn’t dislike.
Her own white hair hung loosely around her shoulders, the curls heavy spirals from the humidity.
Tharen reached for a near-perfect curl by her ear, tugging on it. The pull sent tingles up her scalp. "Next time you need to be fucked to sleep, let me know, little lamb."
Something inside her, wanton and wicked, grew very interested in his words. She tried to hide her reaction, but herwings… They fluttered behind her, betraying her.
Tharen smiled. And it was rare and genuine.
She lowered her voice, the lapping waves against the stone steps echoing her breath. "Is that an o-offer?"
"Only if you think it is." Tharen released the curl, leaving her alone to stew in his words as he settled into the boat.
As the boats docked at the large centerpiece island, lush with greenery, white stone arches, and swinging bridges, Luella could only stare.
Winged beings flew over the water. The sun had since set, leaving them all in a blanket of warm darkness, and her wings stood out like a beacon in the dim light.
Water sloshed against the stone steps—these were nothing like the ones on the other island. They were grander, larger. Everything on this island was magnified tenfold compared to the prior island.
More green, more polished stone. It was the largest island of the entire archipelago, with a bluff rising sharply from the water, while steps were carved into the side of the cliff, leading to the entrance.
Voices bounced off the water. Lights sparkled from within the palace.
Air whispered through Luella’s wings, and she wrapped her arms around her midsection.
Was it too late to take Az up on his offer to stay inside the other palace?
A hand on her back jolted her from her staring. "Luella," said Graves. She turned to stare at him, where he sat behind her, urging her to stand. The others had already left the boats.
Silently, she stood, shrugging off Graves’s hand when he held her elbow to help her onto the steps.
Vale held out a hand, and she took it. He pulled her from the boat, her bare feet sinking into the damp sand clumped near the edges of the steps. His thumb brushed over her bracelet, and the light beyond the open archway leading into the palace flickered over his profile as he stared down at her, illuminating his golden hair. He had changed and freshened up—they all had. The shadow of hair along his jaw had been shaved, and his clothes were clean. Simple, yet refined. As she grew familiar with the Fallen Isles, she realized this look was custom. An easy, breezy beauty. Free and elegant.
"Ready, darling?" Vale murmured from her side. They all stood at the precipice of the entryway, not quite under the arch.
"Never," she responded lowly, dropping his hand as she stepped into the palace. "Let’s go."
The air held its breath as she entered, and her Vincire hurried to keep up, surrounding her as if they could protect her from the Fallen.
It was no use. Her wings were unable to be ignored.
Her bare feet slid over the floors, pleasantly warm from the sun that had just recently fallen.
Somehow, it was everything and nothing like she had come to expect from a royal revelry.
Bodies were entwined on the wide floor, laughter mingling in the air in time with the clink of glasses and quiet chatter. There were even more open doorways here, wide arches that opened up directly outside, letting in the warm breeze of the night air.Beyond, large tree trunks dotted the expanse, ripe with shifting shadows. From the side they had just entered, the sea could be seen from the many entrances. Curving ceilings crafted of stone. Vines curled from the forest, snaking up the walls.
But where the revelry at Serpentis had been teeming with sin, this was… not.
Younglings ran amok, their soft laughter making Luella’s chest alight with a bubbly happiness from the blatant display of youth.
Her eyes searched the dark corners, but she found no hands roaming or bodies tangled in passion.
It was filled with life.
In the midst of it all, Queen Samil.
