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Story: A Strange Hymn

I made her one of us. True, she’ll never be a fairy in the most honest sense of the term—her rounded ears are still proof of that—but she’s immortal like us, strong like us, and her magic is now compatible with mine.

I glance at Callie’s bare wrist, her beads all used up.

Only death or repayment can fulfill a bargain. Deathorrepayment. My demand that Callie live, the lilac wine I poured into her mouth—it fulfilled her end of the bargain.

“You gave her the wine,” Mara murmurs from where she crouches.

I nod, not bothering to glance away from my mate.

“Any regrets?” she asks.

“I would do it again a thousand times over.”

Wrongs can be forgiven. It’s death that one cannot return from.

Mara’s final words linger in the air between us: “Let’s hope she feels the same way.”

Chapter 55

My eyes peel open, and I blink at my surroundings. I lie in the same suite Des and I have been staying in throughout Solstice.

I’m…alive.

Strange. I thought—I thought I died.

But I don’t feel dead. I don’t even feel like death warmed over, which is usually the case after I get my ass handed to me over and over.

My hand moves to my stomach. The Thief of Souls, the dagger to the gut—had I just dreamed it all up?

Hastily, I push away the clothes covering me. There, low on my abdomen, is a thin white scar.

Not a dream after all.

I sit up in the bed.

How could I possibly recover from such a wound? I don’t feel terribly different, all things considered. That is, except…

My hand goes to my heart. I gasp when I feel a tug that has nothing to do with the beat of it.

Being a soul mate means being connected by a very real magical cord. I’ve known this, and yet it’s only now that I truly understand. Ifeelthe bond beneath my rib cage, reaching out across the world and connecting me with Des.

Before I can dwell too long on that, I realize the third oddity of the day—

I’ve been sleeping on my back.

I reach around to touch my wings, but they’re gone.

What in the world? Where did they go?

I glance at my forearms and nails. Both are wholly and completely human.

Frantic, I will my scales to appear. To my surprise, I feel a tug on my connection. A moment later, the skin of my forearm flushes a golden hue as hundreds of shimmering scales take shape.

That shouldn’t have happened.

I will them away, and with another tug on the bond I share with Des, they vanish, my skin returning to normal.

This is Des’s magic. It thrums through me.