Page 56

From a distance, it had looked like a happy enough gathering.

He’d come to the bonfire with Rico, but Arden and Storm had gone ahead of them by a few minutes.

When he saw Arden in that knot of friends her own age, his first impressions had been a pang of jealousy—they were all so young, lives stretching out before them, and that was where she belonged.

With them, with the people she’d grown up with.

He’d felt old, seeing those gangly young men crowding around her.

Then he’d heard their words. All about Jade, every single sentence.

Not one had asked her how she was doing.

Not one had asked her what she was doing at the palace day in and day out.

They asked Storm, pressing for details on his training.

But then one had actually implied that Arden sat about all day, waiting for someone to deliver more news about her sister.

These people had known her all her life. And they didn’t know her at all.

So yes. He’d made a point of slipping up beside her and putting an arm around her.

Did she even realize that she’d leaned into him?

He couldn’t be sure, but he was glad either way that he’d fostered the habit.

Conversation had, of course, gone stilted when he joined them, but he’d long ago learned how to overcome that.

He’d had Arden introduce each friend, had greeted them, asked them questions…

and made certain that his every word to or about Arden was not only respectful and teasing enough to demonstrate how close they’d grown, but also showed that she’d become an integral part of his life and his council.

Watching each set of eyes go a little wider with each addition had been gratifying.

He’d had the right of it that first morning with her. These island boys—and the girls for that matter, who looked right through her—had needed a talking-to.

When the bonfire was lit a few moments later and the older generation called the younger forward, he took her hand and led her toward the blaze, and again she hadn’t even shot him a “What are you doing?” look.

She might question the wisdom of his kisses, but these more innocuous touches had become too much a part of their everyday way.

Which no one else knew. By the end of the evening, everyone—her friends, their parents, their grandparents and aunts and uncles and neighbors—had been sneaking glances their way and, when they came up to say farewell at the close of the party, had each clasped Arden’s hands in theirs and wished her the happiest of Awakenings with respect in their tones instead of vague dismissal.

That, of course, was what she’d found odd. As they walked back to her father’s house—Rico had taken Sapphire home well before they left—she kept glancing over her shoulder at the dispersing gathering, clearly bemused.

“What?” he’d asked, though he knew.

And that was when it clicked. He could all but see the gears meshing in her head, and naturally she reacted as she always did—she’d shoved him in the arm, an exasperated laugh huffing out. “You. That’s what. You made them all think…”

“That you’re someone special?” He’d caught her hand, used it to reel her in. Wrapped his arm around her and bent down to nuzzle her neck. “You are,” he whispered against her wind-cooled skin. “High time they realize it.”

She’d tilted her head, giving him better access as he kissed his way toward her mouth, her hands had slid up his arms, igniting all sorts of fire that pushed away everything else. Reason, caution, and that ever-building pain from the wall. Even as she said, “Such a bad idea. When we find Jade—”

He’d cut her off with a kiss, and he hadn’t much cared if the moonlight lit them enough that someone from the village saw them.

Let them see. Let the gossips marvel at how their king, who everyone knew hadn’t so much as looked twice at a woman in twenty years, had so quickly fallen for their own Arden.

Beside him now, her father sighed. “Is Jade why she said no?”

“Of course.”

Rico turned his face toward Seidon, though his body still faced the sea. “And isn’t her point valid? You told me yourself you need an Awakened as your next bride.”

No one would ever let him live that down, would they?

He shrugged. “That was before I met your daughter. I have to trust that the Triada would not give me a love like this for no reason. Perhaps my next test is choosing love above the pull of magic. Perhaps mastering that will be the strength I need to learn to better protect Daryatla in the coming age.”

Rico stared at him, speaking only in silence for the space of several heartbeats. Then he sighed. “Don’t get any ideas about calling me dad.”

This time the laughter felt like medicine. Rico’s rumbled out to join his, and a moment later, the skies echoed it back to them in the form of hawk cries. Seidon’s gaze moved up, and he drew in a breath.

The hawks always came out this time of day.

He’d grown accustomed to seeing Ora circle toward wherever Arden was.

He watched from his private balcony at the palace every day as the hawk landed outside the city, then rose again moments later.

He always knew Arden was on her back, though he couldn’t make her out.

Today, Ora wasn’t the only one circling. He could pick her out, the largest of the dozen enormous birds, but the others all followed behind her, lined up nearly like geese. Their cries almost…harmonious. A song.

But hawks didn’t sing. Their cries were piercing shrieks that usually struck fear into the hearts of humans, not melodious songs that made them smile. Or so he’d always thought.

He could barely hear the squeaking of the stairs over the sound, and he didn’t dare take his eyes off the skies, but a moment later Arden and Sapphire slipped in between him and Rico.

Seidon lifted his arm from the railing, and Arden nestled into his side, clearly too in awe of the show to think about it as he wrapped that arm around her.

Sapphire winced only a little when she turned her face up to the light.

“What are they doing?” Arden murmured, tracing the graceful line as it broke, peeled apart, as each hawk wheeled as if in some heavenly choreography, their movements all mirroring each other.

“It looks like they’re dancing,” Sapphire said in a whisper.

And their song sounded almost, nearly like one of the ancient chants he’d heard the friars perform in his youth.

Some nearly-forgotten setting of the “Gloria.” A shiver trickled its way down his spine.

How long had people called the hawks angels?

All of his life, and all of his mother’s before him.

But he couldn’t recall any stories about hearing these particular angels sing, seeing them dance their way through the heavens.

And on Awakening Day. The shiver coursed its way back up. The Triada never sent his messengers into the world to declare his glory for no reason, not that Seidon had ever read. This was for a purpose.

“The Triada will make a way.” Sapphire’s words, so soft that he could barely hear them over the song, made a new thrill course through him. “A way of rescue—not just for Jade but for us all.”

The words had the ring of prophecy to his ears, and he didn’t think it was wishful thinking. Didn’t think it was only because she used the exact phrase he had himself, in his hopes for his own future with Arden.

The dance of the hawks took them down the coast, their formations shifting and crossing and forbidding any more speech with its beauty until they were nothing but specks on the horizon.

At which point Arden let out a short breath of laughter.

“Looks like we weren’t the only ones to notice.

” She nodded toward the row of houses down the beach.

Each one had some sort of balcony or deck, and on each of those, families clustered.

He had a feeling that if he could see them as well as she could, he’d find each of those young people halfway through their morning preparations, like Arden was.

Hair half-done, cosmetics unevenly applied, tailored tunics paired with pajama bottoms.

He glanced down at her, lips twitching up.

Sapphire had managed one tight braid on the left side of her head, but the hair on her right still hung free, the wind teasing it from her face.

He moved the hand at her waist up to toy with it.

“Good look. I think you should wear it like this for the Ceremony.”

She rolled her eyes as Sapphire laughed, then she reached for his coffee mug, plucking it from his free hand and raising it to her own lips. “Maybe I will,” she muttered into it.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead. “You’ll be stunning either way.” Then, since she’d lowered the mug, he dipped his head and gave her a quick, soft kiss on her lips too. “I love you. I’ll see you in an hour.”

He saw the panic flare in her eyes at his audacity, saw it bank into something warm and—dare he hope it?—appreciative as her parents chuckled behind her. Saw the amusement spark to life as she shook her head. “You are incorrigible, aren’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m spoiled royalty, after all. Accustomed to getting my way.” He plucked his mug back from her hands with a tut as Sapphire pushed her toward the stairs. “I love you, but you don’t get to steal my coffee.”

Her laughter soothed like a balm as she vanished again.