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“It means their deaths might break you,” she warns.
“And I’d rather have loved and be broken than die while keeping them at arm’s length,” I snap.
She flinches like she’s been slapped, and it’s only then that it occurs to me that’sexactlywhat happened to her. Damarion died while she kept herself locked away.
But if she’s claiming not to be broken, then I don’t know what broken looks like.
“Fine,” she says shortly. “We should be going.”
“Fine,” I say.
She’s not getting an apology from me. Not this time.
Cressida opens the door and we walk side by side down the corridor, a cohort of guards in front of and behind us. The queen of Triton doesn’t speak; there’s really nothing more to say. And I relish the silence, just the sound of our bare footsteps on the tile and the booted march of our guards.
Then I hear music.
As we get closer to the ballroom, I can hear live music on alien instruments, something like a violin ringing out in a happy tune. I find my heart pounding in my chest, and I ignore Cressida’s judgmental stare from beside me. She’s just envious, and painting it as another lesson in royalty. She must be heart-broken, having to raise her child without her mate.
But that’s no reason to take it out on me.
I won’t let her bring me down—not when I know this is the right decision in every way, that I love each and every one of these men.
The doors open before us, and I peer into the dim lighting of the ballroom. Glow lamps float all over the room, the sound of running water interspersed with the music. The setting sun paints the white marble room in pink and gold, a glorious watercolor of royalty and desire.
They’re waiting in there.
My men.
Mine.
Cressida puts her hand on my arm, and I look at her in surprise as we pause just outside the ballroom. Her face is drawn, serious…angry. And her grip is strong on my arm, her fingernails sharp.
“If you destroy my planet, I will never forgive you,” she murmurs.
“My men and I are going to save the Merati Kingdom,” I say confidently. “You have my word.”
And maybe it’s something like pride that I see as she lets me go.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
NEREUS
She truly looks like Yrsa incarnate.
Fiona strides across the floor, glittering like the stardust of the galaxy itself, her step quick and confident. The whole room quiets as she walks through the ballroom doors, Cressida just behind her, a whole squadron of guards on either side of her.
She sees us, and it’s like the rest of the room disappears.
I move to walk down the steps to the dais, leaving the others behind, all of them probably as awestruck as I am by her beauty. But I was ready for this, and I make my way toward her to take her by the hand. There is no processional, even though Kye said that’s how humans do it. Fiona was ready to do things our way, always adaptable. Still, everyone stares at her as we meet, my hand sliding into hers, the sweet scent of amphoria already enveloping us all.
“You look lovely,” I whisper, ducking my head to kiss her temple.
Fiona smiles, staring up at me with what I can only describe as adoration. “I’m so ready for this,” she says, biting her lip.
“So are we,” I say.
I guide her up the aisle, other revelers clearing the way for us. As I suspected, the others are just as awed by her appearance. Orion stands at the fringes of the group, wearing a silvery cloak and armor, watching her like a predator would its prey. Ryker is beside him, dressed in rich Skoll scarlet and gold, tears pooling at the corners of his grey eyes. Taln is in the center of the group, already having prepared the alchemical mixture that will bond us all together for eternity and looking like the luckiest man in the whole universe.
