Page 5

Morning greeted Lune with a second burnt-out jewel, and growing anxiety.

When he stepped out of his room, though, the beach house felt different. Cold. He knew Calico was gone. They’d said their goodbyes last night.

Setting his shoulders back, he knew it would take a measure of adjustment to get used to. Instead, there was a new joy on the horizon to soften the melancholy.

Today was the first day of starting a future with his Intended. Lune grabbed fruit on his way out the door. Squinting at the glowing rays of the rising sun, he hurried to the docks.

The boat to the main island was twice as big as his Jade Raptor, and powered by magic to shorten travel time. The decks and lounges allowed just enough space to stroll and pace without bumping into too many passengers.

Twenty minutes into the inter-island journey, Lune realized he’d been avoiding the guard rails and views of the ocean.

Once, when he was diving with Cal beyond the reef for a tenth birthday present, a shark had grabbed him.

Calico had acted quickly, with the blind rage of any divine being or magic-wielder protecting its young.

The thing had been boiled alive—under water, and there hadn’t been a trace of any flame.

They’d feasted on the meat for the rest of the week and had enough to share with the neighbors.

Lune rubbed at the shark-toothed scars on his arm and then fiddled with the scarf around his neck.

Calico’s magic curling around the hemp fabric kept his gills hydrated, so his breathing was easy.

Although, being so far away from home, even though it was the archipelago—out near the open ocean—instilled low-level anxiety.

A couple of short horn blasts signaled their arrival.

Dock workers scrambled along a narrow pier carved into the rock face.

They helped the crew moor the boat. Passengers pushed and shoved, queueing up to disembark.

Lune loitered to be the last to leave. He didn’t look forward to staring at someone’s arse, or someone staring at his, as he climbed the ladders anchored into the cliff-side.

Temple Prime sat on the high cliff. It was built that way back in the ancient days.

For defense. Now that the gods were just about all at peace with each other, a more direct route had been constructed for the impatient.

The only other way to visit Temple for those who didn’t fly or have some sort of magical transportation, was a full day walk from the harbor.

Coming here as a child and a youth for festivals had been fun and easy.

Calico just shifted into his phoenix form, and Lune had flown in on his father’s back.

As Lune got older, taller, and heavier, an aging Calico opted to use his dimensional portal for their transport.

While Lune reveled in the immediate convenience of the god-magic, his childhood self missed the breath-taking views of their Star Land Island archipelago.

But he was no longer a child. He was here to be married. To his fated mate .

Once at the temple gates, Lune was able to bypass the lines and security measures by showing his compass to the guards. He got through the inner ward just fine, but at the offices, it took several hours of interviews and paperwork before he was allowed upstairs.

From there, he was met with a Blue Robed priest who escorted him to private quarters.

Rules of his stay, and of the marriage ceremony itself, were repeated with pleasant and engaged interest. When Lune asked about his Intended, he was told his mate was sequestered in meditation.

That the ceremony would take place at sunrise, before breakfast.

Which meant Lune would be awake all night, pacing in anticipation. Wondering if his match was a priest. Because of the mention of meditations. That would fit being unable to find him during festivals. Priests were always so busy, especially then.

When the rooster’s call pierced the dawn, he was escorted into the waiting hall. A few dozen priests and other people were already mingling.

Clutching at his compass, Lune let his gaze flit over them, wondering who among them was his match. About four other Compass-bearers were present and engaged in animated conversations with both the Blue, and Green Robed priests.

Lune felt nothing as he studied his peers, and his compass remained extinguished. Instead, his attention was drawn to the tall, thin silhouette lingering in the corner shadows. He was unable to get a good look because of the brilliant sunrays that flooded the hall. So he approached.

Closer now, the details emerged. The man’s tall, lean body was dressed smartly in ash-gray trousers and a long-sleeved tunic. The material was clearly of the highest quality. Light not only bounced off the faintly glowing compass at the man’s waist, but lured Lune’s attention upward .

Lune swallowed a shriek, lest he bring attention to himself.

The metallic winged helmet paired with a face shield meant he was a cockatrice in human form. The clear, lemon-yellow tinted glass was created out of magic to negate that deadly stare.

Gulping, Lune started forward again, compass in hand.

What the avian serpent-shifter did next shocked Lune. The mysterious man turned his back with a smooth, slow, and deliberately controlled spin.

Lune was being told a firm no . He was not to approach. Lune halted, confused. To push the issue would be a social calamity. A grave and unforgivable insult that could ruin reputations.

Biting his lip and slightly hunching his shoulders in embarrassment, Lune casually wandered back in the opposite direction.

When priests came for him, Lune tried to stall as he quickly scanned the hall for Calico.

His father had promised to attend. But priests ushered him along into one of several wedding chambers.

An empty chamber.

Lead up to a simple altar and abandoned, Lune wiped sweaty hands on his vest. The quiet of the small room was loud in his ears.

He glanced at the glowing stone perched atop a squat, nondescript pedestal.

Lune let himself get lost in the gently pulsing light.

He’d been told his Intended had presented his own compass days ago, which was the reason for the glow.

Lune’s half of the stone was dark, awaiting magical activation.

Low voices were at the door. Lune sucked in a breath.

Someone entered. Their stride was well-trod and full of confidence. Just like the cockatrice. That increased Lune’s nervous sweat, and his delight .

Lune deliberately didn’t look at his Compass-match until his Intended stood before him. Because he wanted those extra precious few seconds to not make another fool of himself.

This was it. When he lifted his head, Lune was rendered speechless. Where was the cockatrice?

Lune swallowed another breath and felt the flush of heat on his cheeks.

This elf was gorgeous—almost hypnotically so.

Tall and svelte. Gentle angles and curves.

Sparkling green eyes like emeralds and silver-white hair cut in feathery wisps reached past his shoulders.

Pale skin. The detailed finery of his clothing held a faint glittery texture, and Lune suspected that this elegance was his everyday wear.

This was his Intended? Clearing his head of the distraction, Lune realized the elf wasn’t carrying a compass. Before he could inquire, the Blue Robed priest motioned for Lune to touch his compass upon the magical crystal. He did, and the rock glowed, signaling a match.

The rest of the ceremony itself was a blur. Lune was transfixed by his Intended’s cool and aloof beauty. But that was only skin-deep. He wanted to hear that voice, see some measure of emotion, a reaction, light up his fated mate’s face.

The priest bowed to them, and departed.

“Are you ready to leave?” the elf asked coolly. “Or do you need to collect luggage from your room?”

Broken from the trance of beauty, Lune took that second to scan the elf’s belt, then around his neck. He wasn’t carrying a compass. At least not in view. Lune frowned and checked his own apparatus.

It wasn’t glowing now, and neither was the marriage stone upon the altar. That was something the priests hadn’t covered in the wedding orientation. Or had they? So much new information had been thrown at him, it’d been impossible to absorb it all at once.

“I’m Lune.” He held out his compass. It still did not glow. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. But I’m confused. Where’s yours?”

“Did they not tell you? I am merely the proxy.” The elf rolled up his sleeve, revealing a compass birthmark upon his lean biceps. It in no way matched his.

Lune blinked. “P-proxy?”

“Yes. Narsus sent me in his stead.”

“Narsus?”

“Your Intended,” the elf replied. “My name is Brightside.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” But it wasn’t right.

This had to be a mistake of some sort. It was a full minute before Lune could form a coherent sentence.

“Why…why didn’t he come?” Then the worry surfaced—he recalled the silence from his compass as he talked to it.

Lune took an urgent step, hands pressed around his compass, as if to soothe himself. “Is he okay? Is he hurt?”

“Narsus will have to explain these arrangements,” was the only answer provided. “He waits at the edge of the city.”

The elf strode elegantly from the chamber with the same self-assuredness as when he’d entered. Leaving Lune to urgently follow.

Brightside led him through Temple Prime’s dual courtyards, all the way across the city, and out into the wilds before slowing down. Having to meet his mate in the middle of nowhere was wrong and insulting. And certainly a bit disconcerting.