“I’m a very optimistic person.”
“You’re a chronic pessimist who makes jokes at funerals.”
“Same thing. Optimists expect the worst so they can be pleasantly surprised.”
His laughter rumbled through both of them. He pulled her closer, and she let herself be held—let herself believe, for one perfect moment, that everything was going to be okay.
The Convergence was coming. She could feel it—the ley lines restless beneath the garden, the stars straining against the dark.
She had Deia’s weapon, Marguerite’s knowledge, Sue’s forty-second window, and the man she loved. She still didn’t know if it would be enough.
But for the first time, she wasn’t facing it alone.
THIRTY-FOUR
HUX
Hux found her in the Celestial Pavilion at sunset, surrounded by the living weapon she’d spent weeks preparing. The orrery hummed with barely contained power.
Lunaria stood at the center, the focus ring glinting on her finger, her face tilted toward the cracked glass dome overhead. The dying light painted her in shades of amber and gold, followed the curve of her cheek and the worried furrow between her brows.
She was reading star charts. He’d learned to recognize the expression—that distant focus, the way her eyes tracked patterns invisible to everyone else. Whatever she was seeing in the sky, it wasn’t good.
“What is it?”
She didn’t startle at his voice. She’d probably felt him approaching—the gardens responded to his presence now, and his lion’s footsteps weren’t exactly subtle on the stone paths.
“The Convergence is going to be stronger than Deia predicted.” She turned to face him, and the worry in her dark eyes made his chest tighten. “The mating surge—all those bonds formed over the past two years—they’ve fed Haven Shores’magical density. The ley lines are practically saturated. When the barriers thin...”
“The Hollow King will have more to consume.”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around herself, a gesture he’d learned meant she was fighting the urge to run. “Six mated pairs now. All that love, all that potential, concentrated in one small town. When the Hollow King crosses over, it’s going to find a feast waiting.”
“But it also means we’ll have more power to fight back with,” he said.
“If I can channel it properly.”
“You can.”
“Maybe.” Her laugh was brittle. “The orrery needs a tremendous amount of energy to fire. I’ve never channeled anything close to what’s required. Deia spent four decades building this weapon, and she was more powerful than me. More trained. More?—”
“You pulled down stars to save my life.”
The words stopped her. She blinked at him, some of the tension bleeding from her shoulders.
“That was desperation,” she said quietly. “That was watching you die and refusing to accept it.”
“Then be desperate again.” He crossed to her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes. “Fight like you’re fighting for everything you can’t afford to lose.”
“I am.” Her voice cracked on the words. “That’s what terrifies me. I’ve spent years making sure I had nothing to lose. Nothing that could hurt when it was taken away. And now...”
He cupped her face in his hands, tilting it up until she had to meet his gaze. The orrery hummed around them, flowers pulsing with celestial light, the weapon she’d built to save them all framing her like a living halo.
“Now you have me,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t promise that. We don’t know?—”
“I can promise I’ll fight for it. For us. For every possible future the Hollow King tried to steal from me.” His thumbs brushed the curve of her cheekbones, memorizing the feel of her.
