Page 144 of Fate of the Sun King

“I love you,” he whispers, pulling out and then sliding in with agonizing slowness. He thrusts hard and deep, filling every empty corner of my heart. “From now until the Evanescence takes us, Lor.”

“I’ll love you longer than that,” I say as he rocks into me. “Until the world turns to ash.”

He sighs and tips his forehead to mine as he continues churning his hips. My magic sparks, pale wisps of lightning twinning with his. We climb the peak and climax together, shuddering against each other’s mouths.

When we’ve finished, we lie in the grass, watching the lightning bugs dance and twirl. I’m so content and happy, and I feel like I could just lie here forever. A burst of laughter from the table summons our attention, and our gazes meet.

“You should go back and spend some time with your friends,” he says.

“Thank you for this. All of it.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me.”

“Yes. I do.” I kiss him again before we retrieve our discarded clothing and try to look somewhat like we didn’t just have sex. Well, at least I do. Nadir obviously doesn’t care, since he leaves his shirt hanging open and does nothing to fix his mussed hair.

He takes my hand, and we approach the table.

“Ah!” yells Mael. “They’re done fucking. Come have a drink!”

I roll my eyes and shake my head, but I accept the glass he’s holding out, briefly considering dumping it on his head.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says with a grin that does its best to charm me. “And I really wouldn’t blame you.”

At that, I burst out laughing.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

GABRIEL

THE SUN PALACE

The palace is the site of pure, unfiltered chaos. I’ve never seen it like this. Every corner is stuffed with so many people and flowers and rolls of fabric, I can barely walk without bumping into something or someone.

It’s claustrophobic. It’s drowning me. I fantasize about a tiny island floating in the middle of the ocean where I have to catch fish with my bare hands and collect rainwater in coconut shells and my only company is the sweet bliss of silence.

While Apricia screams at everyone, Atlas hides in his study, summoning me daily to ask if I have news of Lor’s whereabouts. I’ve made up a thousand lies and rumors. Sightings of her on the other side of Ouranos, potential leads that all conveniently end in nothing. But I’m running out of time. She’s running out of time.

Atlas is losing his patience, and I feel the increasing strain of deceiving him. Pressure squeezes around my organs, and my tendons stretch like they’ve been wrenched over a loom. I consider asking Tyr to alter his orders so I can work around them, just enough so I can breathe. The few times I’ve done it in the past, I’ve always had to be careful so as not to arouse Atlas’s suspicions. I’ve become a master of operating just outside the rigid circle of my parameters without drawing too much attention to myself. I, too, am a master of illusion of a different sort.

But even if I could convince Tyr to loosen Atlas’s hold on me, the effort is wasted. He’s stopped speaking entirely, and nothing I do has been able to coax out a word in weeks.

Today we’re all stuck inside the future queen’s massive entertaining salon. The official presentation, when the citizens of Aphelion will gather at the gates to kneel before their king and queen, is tomorrow, and Apricia is throwing a party today. The other nine warders and I, along with half the fucking castle, have been summoned on the pretense of celebrating, but this is all the most pathetic facade.

Atlas and Apricia lounge on a pile of cushions at the front of the room, taking in well wishes and greetings from guests floating through. The fallen Tributes are also in attendance, and Apricia is sure to remind them at every opportunity that they could have been in her place had they been “better.”

Even I can see the relief on their faces. I’m reasonably sure not a single one regrets failing the Trials right now. I wonder if Halo and Marici have seen Lor. It would be just like her to risk her neck to get a moment with her friends. I also wonder why Nadir asked for Callias, but I’m keeping myself on a need-to-know basis.

Atlas is tense. I can tell from across the room where I stand with my hands behind my back. Apricia likes how the warders appear—our white wings are unique and a source of curiosity to everyone we meet.

Admittedly, the ten of us cut striking figures in our golden armor, but she doesn’t allow us to speak. We’ve been positioned on opposite walls of the room, five on each side, where we’ve been ordered to stand with our wings stretched like we’re fucking marble statues.

At first, Atlas tried to defend us, but Apricia shut him down instantly. He didn’t try very hard to object, and I’m sure it’s because he’s angry I haven’t found Lor. The irony being that I could be using this time to find her instead of standing here like I’m furniture.

But Atlas is mostly angry with me, and the others don’t even know they’re being punished for my lies. I’ve kept this knowledge from them, not because I don’t trust them with my life, but because the less they know, the safer everyone will be.

But the strain is starting to wear on me. Because the order isn’t direct, the effect is more gradual. A few aches and pains here and there. An uncomfortable but manageable tightness in my chest. But it’s starting to get worse, and I’m not sure how much longer I can or should hold out.

At this point, I’d gladly let myself die to keep this secret. Not necessarily out of loyalty to Lor, but because I’m so fucking angry with Atlas.