Wilder leans over, kissing the top of my head and pausing there. I close my eyes and memorize the moment so I never forget how warm he is. So I never stop smelling that forest kissed by lightning.
Voices come from around the corner, which means we’re nearing the end of Wilder’s boundary. Reluctantly, I start to pull away, but Wilder doesn’t release his hold.
“We can’t walk in together. What will they think?” My fingers tense on his shirt as I look up at him.
“I don’t care what they think so long as they know you’re mine.” He holds out his hand.
In offering.
In hope.
We both know this is it. Our last chance to cling to what cannever be. So I do what he asked for this evening. I do what I want, and I choose him one last time.
My fingers slip through his with the kiss of a promise.
A dream.
A bond we forged on a frozen island when we both needed someone.
I take Wilder’s hand, and for tonight, I’m his and he’s mine.
Chapter 49
Elorie
Dim bulbs hang overhead,guiding a path to the great hall. They’re muted tonight. No longer the bright suns the king usually creates to bathe his parties in light. Darkness swirls at their core, and when I look up at them, they remind me of the chorus to the songThe Death of Stars.
Oh, did we go so far, the heart grew colder?
Did we lose such sleep, the night stopped shining?
Oh, to wander where the light went out,
or did she go into hiding?
Oh, the gods sang the song, but there was no mourning.
No morning.
Standard Guard armor has been replaced by the same dark armor Callum was wearing when he came to my room. And whileFae in the palace always dress in the most beautiful clothes, tonight, the outfits are grander. Shimmering gowns are dripping with gems. Tunics are strung with iridescent thread. It’s a display of opulence.
They celebrate like the kingdom isn’t dying.
I suppose to them it no longer is, as of tomorrow.
Wilder’s firm grip on my waist reminds me he’s at my side, and I’m not alone. Fae part, whispering and gawking as they stare at his hand on the center of my bare back. The crowd splits in a wave, leading a clean path to the king, who is perched atop his throne with Hazel seated beside him and Selia sitting on his lap in the most beautiful gown I’ve seen, apart from my own. Blue silk cascades over her curves. Gold decorates her ears and paints her eyelids. Her brown hair is swept up, showing off the thick golden collar at her neck.
While she wore a royal gem in Tempest, this is the first time I’ve seen her fully adorned in the colors of the king. It’s a statement that makes me feel less guilty about the one Wilder is making as he holds me at his side.
“You are not a statement to me, Elorie.”Wilder’s fingers ripple with a current of magic that travels my back.
I swallow hard as we approach the throne, making sure to dip low in my curtsy, even as Wilder continues to keep his hand on my skin. His fingertips slide along my spine as I lower, skating back down when I stand tall again. Wilder remains upright, not so much as dipping his chin. The true picture of a king beside me. And while I curtsy for my king, it feels wrong for the first time. Like I’m bowing to the wrong mission.
King Malachi’s expression is still cold when I meet his gaze. Dark circles cast shadows around his eyes. His golden hair has dulled. But the streaming flicker of light continues to pour from his fingers, as if he wants to display a swell of his magic to hisaudience.
“Starlight silk.” The king’s gaze moves to my gown.
“It was a present,” I say.
