“Trust me, I noticed,” I confirmed with a smile. Who knew gods needed that much reassurance? But if he did, I was happy to give it to him.
The possessive satisfaction that swept through the bond made me laugh. Then my expression softened.
“I choose you, Thyros. Not because of prophecy. Not because of some ancient bond.” I pressed a kiss to his lips. “I choose you because when I’m with you, I feel more myself than I ever have.”
His arms tightened around me until I could feel the fierce beat of his heart beneath my palm.
“For millions of years,” he whispered, “I believed I was born to darkness.”
I lifted my head. “You were.”
Something shadowed his expression. Before doubt could take root, I touched his cheek. “So was every star.”
He stared at me. Then he kissed me with a reverence that stole my breath. When we finally parted, his voice was thick. “How is it possible that you exist?”
I smiled. “I was just wondering the same thing about you.”
For a while, we lay tangled together in comfortable silence. The bond between us pulsed with warmth and contentment, no longer overwhelming or frightening. It simply was. As natural as breathing. As inevitable as gravity. I thought of Ella’s certainty. Of Nadine’s logic. Of all the ways I had tried to convince myself that what I felt was too sudden, too impossible, too dangerous. Now, wrapped in the arms of the male I loved, I understood something with breathtaking clarity.
This was not a trap. It was not surrender. It was not the loss of my freedom. It was the first time in my life that destiny had felt like a choice.
A soft chime sounded through the room.
Then Zapharos’ voice came over the comm. “Everyone to the bridge. We approach Nox Eternum.”
I exhaled slowly. The moment we had both been dreading had arrived. Thyros' expression hardened, though his hand never left my body. The Dark Abyss. The Harrowed One. The Vessel. Everything that had haunted him for his entire existence waited ahead.
I slid from the bed and reached for my clothes. Thyros rose beside me, all powerful grace and quiet intensity. When he turned to face me, I took his hand. His fingers closed around mine immediately.
“Ready?” he asked.
I looked up at him, at the man I now loved more than my own life. The man born of darkness. The man who had taught me what it meant to be cherished. The man I had chosen.
I laced my fingers through his. “Wherever you go, I go.”
Something fierce and luminous blazed across his face. Together, hand in hand, we entered the bridge.
The lighthearted confidence that sometimes filled the command deck was gone, replaced by a taut, electric tension that made the air feel charged. Everyone knew where we were going. Everyone understood what might be waiting for us there.
The bridge itself was vast, with sweeping holoscreens curving around the forward viewport. Beyond the transparent panels, space stretched in an endless field of stars. Except ahead, where the stars began to disappear. I slowed involuntarily. At first, Nox Eternum looked like a flaw in reality itself. A region of pure darkness where no darkness should exist. The void simply consumed the surrounding starlight, its edges shifting like black smoke suspended in water. Violet and crimson currents flickered along its surface, illuminating immense spirals of debris caught in its gravitational pull. Ruined ships, shattered asteroids, and fragments of long-dead worlds circled the abyss like offerings to a hungry god.
It was beautiful.
And horrifying.
The bond between Thyros and me tightened instinctively. His fingers closed around mine.
“Easy,” he murmured.
Only then did I realize I had stopped breathing. I forced air into my lungs. “How large is it?”
Nadine stood at the central console; her fingers danced over the controls with practiced precision. “Current measurements suggest the visible event horizon spans approximately one-point-three astronomical units.”
I blinked, having no idea what that meant but assuming it was a lot.
Ella, seated at the helm beside her, translated with a sympathetic smile. “It’s really, really big.”
“Thank you,” I muttered.
