Page 94 of Death Will Follow

Callan made a polite bow and passed through the curtains, eager to be reunited with his mate and begin the rest of their lives together.

Thirty-Nine

Nova stared wordlessly at the table. Nox’s charcoal-dusted fingers transferred smudges to her skin as he brushed a thumb reassuringly over the back of her hand.

“All of this,” he said, gesturing to the room around them, “the throne, the responsibility—was thrust upon me. I had no aspirations of being a Noble Lord. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to escape Silvergard. To escape those who had been the cause of my misery. But, in a heartbeat, I went from third in line to wearing the crown.”

Nox was quiet for a moment, faint creases forming between his brows as he nodded to himself.

“I would never force this role upon you,” he continued. “I won’t deny I’ve grown into the position. The good I’ve been able to do has brought me some fulfillment. But if I don’t step aside, I would be standing between you and your birthright.”

The prospect of ruling over a territory of loyal subjects who looked to her for safety and guidance terrified her. Still, Nova couldn’t deny what she’d felt when she sat upon the Lunar Throne so Nox could paint her portrait months earlier. Though she’d envisioned herself being struck down by a bolt of lightning, she’d instead been overcome with a sense of rightness. Of purpose. As though she was exactly where she was meant to be.

Nova smiled faintly and pulled her hand out from under her uncle’s, resting it next to her gloved hand in her lap, scarred fingers clutching the fabric of her skirts.

Nox looked to Lucan, who leaned a shoulder against the wall. The commander straightened and cleared his throat as Nox stood.

“I will leave you to your decision,” Nox said. “And it is your decision.”

With that, the pair left her alone in the Council room. Nova tipped her head back, gripping the arms of the chair as she observed the night sky through the glass ceiling. Her gaze settled on Illora for a breath before her eyes fell shut in the childish practice of wishing upon a star.

Now that she knew the legend of Illora, it made perfect sense. Her wishes had always been more like prayers for aid or guidance. Please make Father better. Please show me what Mother would do. Now, she could think of only one, selfish desire: Please bring Callan home.

Eyes still closed, head resting against the seat back, she brought her fist to her chest, gently kneading the space directly over her heart. How could she expect herself to make such an important decision when she’d been half a person in the few short days he’d been gone? Callan had his own choices standing before him, and she’d tried to leave him be. Still, she may have sent a message or two into his mind without thinking.

I love you. I miss you. Come back to me.

They couldn’t communicate outright in that way. Not how she could with Nox, now holding entire conversations while on opposite sides of the Estate. If Callan was close enough to her, she would sometimes catch a word here and there. She couldn’t deny the thrill she felt each time the word mine danced across her thoughts when he spilled himself with his cock buried between her thighs. His fingers tangled in her hair or laid at the base of her throat.

She had no doubt they belonged to one another. Still, she wondered, was the magic that tethered Callan to Nivali, the vow that inked his wrists, stronger than their bond?

The door to the Council room burst open and Callan entered, delivered to her like some celestial gift. In a breath, he had crossed the room and sat kneeling, as he so often did, at her feet. The familiar scent of him, like freshly fallen snow, surrounded her as she gathered him in an embrace.

“Your parents, are they well?” she asked, breathless as she released him.

Callan clasped her hands, giving her a sad smile. “My mother is much improved. But my father . . .” His face fell and he shook his head. “Only time will tell if he’s truly lost to us.”

Nova leaned forward, cupping his jaw and pressing a soft kiss against his still-frowning lips.

“Then I will ask Illora to watch over him.” She brushed her thumb along the rasp of dark hair on his chin.

Callan nodded, his eyes flicking toward the ceiling.

“You have decided then?” he asked, understandably eager for a change of topic. “Nox will relinquish the Lunar Throne, and you will rule Silvergard?”

“Yes,” Nova replied. “Though not straight away. There will be a meeting on tomorrow’s full moon to make the announcement to the gentry. A pamphlet will be distributed throughout the city to notify the Common Fae, with messengers carrying the news to the districts. The ceremony naming me Noble Lady of Silvergard will be held on the next full moon.”

Nova ran out of breath and swallowed past the emotion welling up at the back of her throat.

“There is much to be done before then.” Her voice came out breathy, a slight tremble dancing along the edges. “To say nothing of all that must be done after I assume the throne.”

Callan squeezed her hands in his.

“I—I don’t know if I can do this, Callan.”

“You can, my love.”

“I know nothing of being a ruler.”