Page 152 of Soulgazer

Exactly what I always dreamed of.

By the time I’ve shaken Nessa off, glaring at my cousin, it’s done. Saoirse’s brother’s spirit rises from his stone and she gasps, tears flooding her eyes. But just as I suspected, her father follows shortly after.

“Da?” The word dips out of Saoirse’s lips as Dermot’s silver spirit hovers, watching her…nothing hostile in his expression. Nothing at all. In life, his lips were always twisted, his eyes cold and cruel, yet there is an emptiness there as he watches his daughter until he spies the eldest brother’s shade. Warmth blooms at last, painted across his features in a broad smile before they both rise to the mountain and out of sight.

My eyes dart from Aidan to my wife, both wounded and clearly trying to pretend they’re not.

Still, I wait for any hint she’ll collapse, any sign of tears—a reason to shove these miserable stars out of their carefully woven sky to get her in my arms.

But she only stares into the distance as her heart flutters at her throat. No music, no accusations or jokes. Not until Kiara clears her throat, and Saoirse blinks, turning to climb free of the water.No one dares touch her—not until the glow leaves her skin along with whatever energy she has left. Saoirse nearly crumples, and I finally break free of the crowd, catching her with an arm around her waist. I coax her to lean heavily into my chest, ignoring the way my heartbeat wants to choke me.

“It’s all right. I’ve got you,” I murmur into her ear, but I don’t dare try to tease this away. Not with what I know comes next.

“So let it be finished.” Kiara smiles at us, then faces the gathering. “The first reaping of souls in five generations. Let any who would oppose the laws the Daonnaí laid down say so now.”

No one moves. Not even Maccus.

There’s not one among them who’d dare oppose her now. Not yet, anyway, damn them.

But they’re thinking on it. Saoirse feels it, too, the way she’s tensed up beneath my arm. Their faces shift like beasts, every one spinning something new—calculating, fearful, desirous, infuriated. Kiara may hold our strings, but every single one of them has a blade in their back pocket.

“Very well.” Kiara’s voice was trained to conquer. Once, it spurred me on to steal the best pastries at family dinners so we could share them beneath a table: a victor’s feast. Now it bends even the most ironclad will into place.

I stroke the back of Saoirse’s cold fingers. Lift them to my lips just as she tilts her head back onto my shoulder, her eyes finding mine. I drop my forehead to hers before she can read the defeat there. There’s no going back from this gilded fecking cage.

I’m already in love with you.

“All hail Ríona Saoirse and her husband, Rí Faolan. Queen and king of the Isle ofSouls.”