Page 110

It’s beautiful, but so are countless other places in the Otherworld.

“She used to tell me stories of Lyra, the goddess of new life.” Des nods his head to the ruins.

His eyes return to the grave. “Sometimes I come here to be close to her,” he admits. He glances up at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make this about the past.”

“It’s not.” I take his hand and pull him to his feet.

The Bargainer has few important people in his life. Even in death, his mother is one of them. The first woman to care for him. It’s only appropriate to be here, where she can pass that torch on to me.

I give his hand a squeeze. “Let’s go get married.”

I begin to tug him back to Temper and Malaki when he resists.

“Wait, Callie, there’s one more thing.”

I turn just as Des reaches for the heavens. Far above us, the stars shine away, but as I watch, molten drops of starlight spin down from above, coalescing in Des’s palm. He whispers something in Old Fae. In response, the starlight jumps in his hand, moving around until it forms itself a delicate, twinkling circlet.

Des grasps it in both hands and places it on my head. “There.”

He steps back, the starlight reflecting in his eyes, and stares at me the same way he did all those years ago when he made me a crown of fireflies.

“In all the worlds and all the ages, there has never been another like you, Callie.” He clears his throat, like he’s remembering himself. “Nowlet’s get married.”

Des and Istand before Temper, our hands clasped. The sorceress’s usual attitude is gone. Here, with Des and me before her, she’s solemn. Among the oddities of the evening is that she’s our officiant. Malaki stands off to the side, the witness to Temper’s officiating.

Des runs his thumb over the skin of my hand as he gazes into my eyes. I’m not sure he’s ever been more handsome in his suit of spun moonlight. Standing across from him in my own glowing gown, the wind carrying my filmy train off into the night, I finally feel like this life fits.

My mate was right. I’m not normal,thisis not normal. People don’t have claws and scales and wings and Otherworldly stalkers.

But normal people also don’t get to feel their soulmates magic move in them. They don’t get to be part of a fairytale. They don’t get the love that transcends time and worlds.

I squeeze Des’s hands.

Normal people don’t get this, but I do.

Temper reads our wedding vows, and the Night King and I recite them again to each other—with a few additions of our own.

“From flame to ashes, dawn to dusk, for the rest of our lives, be mine always, Desmond Flynn,” I say. My wings have come out, exposed by my raw emotion.

The Night King brings my knuckles to my lips. “I’m yours, Callypso.” His own wings are folded at his back. They’ve been visible ever since Temper first started reading the rites.

Des lowers my hands, his eyes search mine. I can feel his magic gathering in the air, the darkness pressing in on us.

“And mountains may rise and fall, and the sun might wither away, and the sea claim the land and swallow the sky. But you will always be mine. And the stars might fall from the heavens, and night might cloak the earth, but until darkness dies, I will always be yours.”

And so we get married before the ruins of Lyra, Des’s mom watching us from where she lies amongst the undying flowers, the stars our only other witness.

Before we leavethe ancient temple, Malaki, Temper, Des, and I share a bottle of fae wine from Lephys, where the fruit itself is grown from the island’s glowing waters. It tastes like hope and love and the sweetest memories.

This might be the first time the four of us have ever sat together outside of a professional setting, and I find that Malaki has a dirty sense of humor, and that he and Des act more like brothers than best friends.

“Thank the gods you finally made an honest man of Desmond,” Malaki says, leaning forward to clink my glass.

“‘Honest’?” I raise my eyebrows. “Are we talking about the same man?”

Malaki laughs, and his teeth are blindingly white against his olive skin. “Aye, that’s a fair point.”

“Letting you two be friends might be my worst decision yet,” Des says, gesturing between me and his general.