“Obsidian.”
My eyes widen. “You wear an obsidian crown?”
“It’s a tradition of the Quietus Court. One the queen started.” His expression is pained. “We bear the weight of our kingdom. Our people. We bear their pain, and our crowns should be a reminder of that weight so that we never fail it.”
“That’s a heavy burden.” My fingers graze one of the peaks, and I can’t imagine how it must press over him to wear it when the nearness of obsidian has my magic tugging me away.
“It is,” he agrees.
“I’m surprised her crown fits so perfectly. I’d have thought your mother’s crown would have been slightly different.”
“This isn’t her crown. The priestesses of Tempest made some adjustments for me.”
“You were quite demanding of them while we were in Tempest.” My eyebrow lifts.
Wilder chuckles. “I didn’t ask them to do it. Not everyone agrees with this war. In some places in each realm, they’re indifferent. The priestesses respect my title regardless of the king they serve. This was a gift.”
A gift.
A curse.
A thin line between the two.
“Why wear the crown tonight?” I ask, taking in the intricate stitching of his clothes. The black decorative designs woven through it. It’s not his usual outfit. This is the royal wardrobe of a king.
“Besides to impress you?” He winks.
“Yes, besides that, Great King Riven.”
Wilder growls, pulling me closer as he lowers his mouth to my ear. “Keep it up, Starfire, and we won’t make it to this dinner at all.”
“You say that like it should be a threat. But I’m failing to see the downside.” I arch into him, and it draws out the hardness between his legs.
Wilder steps back, making me grumble, and he simply chuckles in response.
“I’m serious. Why tonight? You look so… royal.” I run my fingers over the starlight silk, realizing he did the same for me.
Wilder clears his throat, his shoulders tense. “Vaelier deserves a king for what comes next. Whatever that may be.”
My smile slips as the truth of tonight sinks in. A final celebration before the destruction of his realm.
“I’m not saying that to upset you.” He pulls me close.
“If I could?—”
Wilder dips down for a kiss, cutting me off. His fingers bury themselves in my hair as his tongue grazes mine. But this kiss isn’t rushed. It’s deep and soft. It’s everything I wish we could be if we could just hold onto this moment.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him tight to me when he breaks the kiss and buries his face in my neck.
“Tonight, we don’t wish,” he whispers, kissing the side of mythroat. “Tonight, we simply do, and tomorrow, we’ll deal with the consequences.”
“And you say I’m the one who causes trouble.”
He hums, kissing me again. “You are nothing but trouble, and I love every bit of it.”
Love.
If he weren’t Fae, I’d almost think that means more. But as Wilder told me once, love is small in comparison to their feelings when they meet their mate. Someday, Wilder will have something so much greater than love, if his kingdom lives long enough for him to see it.
