Page 28

The sun breaks over the fields beyond Saufort at the same time every day, but I never tire of watching dawn claim our little world. The light filters through the curtains of our farmhouse—our home, I still think with a rush of disbelief—and paints gilded stripes across Adellum's wings where they're curled around me.

Our bedroom window faces east. We planned it that way.

I disentangle myself carefully from the warmth of his arms, placing a kiss on his shoulder before slipping from our bed. The floorboards creak under my bare feet as I tiptoe across our bedroom to slip down the hall and check on Brooke. In the soft dawn light, I can make out her small form, curled in a tight ball under her quilt, wisps of pale blonde hair splayed on her pillow.

Five months since we decided to stay. Five months since the world as I knew it shattered and rebuilt itself around these quiet, golden moments.

I never wanted to return to New Solas, to a life I had no interest in there, and neither did Adellum. So we got our own little home here, where I garden and still work for Marda, where he paints and can send his work to be sold while staying the dangerous recluse he's known to be now.

I press my palm to Brooke's back, feeling her steady breathing beneath my hand. A rush of gratitude so overwhelming it almost brings tears to my eyes washes through me. This is my life now. This peace. This family.

In the kitchen, I start the morning fire with practiced movements, setting water to boil for tea. The kitchen window looks out over my garden—not the careful box of herbs I once maintained above Marda's restaurant but a sprawling, vibrant thing that feeds not just us, but half the village when I'm feeling generous.

"Little bird."

I turn to find Adellum leaning against the doorframe, sleep-rumpled and magnificent. His wings are tucked loosely against his back, and in the early light, his silver eyes seem to catch fire. He's wearing only loose sleep pants, and the sight of him—the casual intimacy of this moment—still makes my heart skip.

"Did I wake you?" I move to the counter where I've laid out mugs and the jar of meadowmint tea.

"No." He crosses to me, sliding his arms around my waist from behind, burying his face in my neck. "Your absence did."

I lean back against him, savoring his warmth. His hands slide to my hips, thumbs tracing small circles against my nightgown. "And you call me dramatic," I murmur.

"Because you are." He kisses my neck, his breath warm against my skin.

"Mama? Papa?" Brooke stands in the doorway, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists. Her hair is a riot of curls, her nightgown twisted sideways. The sight of her turns my heart inside out with love.

We told Brooke, too, that Adellum was her father. She took it in a stride, already attached to him. He wove a great story about going around the continent, becoming the best father he could be before coming here to shower her with love. It was enough to quell her questions.

"Good morning, my sunshine." I open my arms and she runs into them, letting me scoop her up. She plants a kiss on my cheek, then turns to Adellum, reaching for him with a sleep-warm hand.

He takes her from me, tossing her high enough to make her giggle before settling her on his hip. "And how's my little sorceress today?"

"I dreamed of thaliverns! Purple ones!" She pats his cheeks with both hands. "Can we go to the big field? You said we could practice making sparks today."

"After breakfast." His tone brooks no argument, but his smile is indulgent. "Your mother needs to get to Marda's, and I have a commission to finish."

"The one for the gorgon lady?" Brooke wrinkles her nose.

Adellum laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Yes, the one for the gorgon lady. She's paying us very well."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," I say, pouring hot water over the tea leaves. "You can help me in the garden first. The dreelk needs harvesting."

Brooke slides down from Adellum's arms, already chattering about which basket she'll use for the dreelk. I hand Adellum his mug of tea, and our fingers brush. Even after everything, that small touch sends electricity through me.

Later, after dropping Brooke with Holt for her daily lessons, I walk through the village to Marda's restaurant. The morning air is crisp, full of promise. Farmers nod as I pass, and the baker's wife waves from her door. It took time, but the village has embraced us—our unusual family with its xaphan father and human mother, our wild-haired daughter who makes sparks dance from her fingertips when she laughs.

I pass the small studio Adellum built at the edge of our property. Through the window, I can see him working, wings half-spread as he stands before a large canvas. Paints splashed across his forearms, that look of intense concentration that transforms his features.

He's different here, away from New Solas, away from Sior's influence and the demands of his fame. Here, he paints what moves him, not what sells.

He must sense my presence because he looks up, catches my eye through the glass. The smile he gives me is so full of quiet joy that it steals my breath.

"You're mooning over him again." Marda's voice breaks into my reverie as I enter the restaurant kitchen. The older woman's eyes crinkle with amusement. Even she's gone soft on Adellum despite him being a xaphan.

I feel heat rush to my cheeks as I tie on my apron. "He's just... he's good at what he does."

"Mmhmm." She hands me a knife for the zynthra I've brought from my garden. "And what he does is make you happier than I've seen you in five years."

I can't argue with that. Instead, I focus on chopping, letting the familiar rhythm soothe me.

After a long day of work, I'm standing in the amber glow of sunset, up to my elbows in soil as I tuck the last seedlings into the newly turned earth. Our garden has become my sanctuary—a place where I create something purely for the joy of it. The scent of fresh soil and crushed herbs rises around me, mint and sage mingling with the darker, earthier notes of my favorite plants.

"Mama, look!" Brooke dances between the rows, careful not to step on any plants. She's learned that rule well. In her hands, she cradles a thalivern butterfly, its iridescent wings catching the last rays of sunlight. "It likes me!"

I sit back on my heels, pushing a stray curl from my face with the back of my wrist. "Of course it does. You're very likable."

"Papa says I have gentle hands." She beams, pride radiating from her small face. "Just like you."

The butterfly flutters away, and Brooke watches it go with a contented sigh before squatting down beside me. Her little fingers immediately dive into the soil, mimicking my planting technique.

"Can I put in the last brimbark?" she asks, already reaching for the seedling.

"Here." I guide her hands. "Remember, not too deep."

The sound of the garden gate opening draws my attention. Adellum stands there, wings half-spread in that unconscious way they get when he's feeling something strongly. His gaze finds mine immediately, intense and burning with purpose.

My heart stutters. Even after all these months together, the sight of him still steals my breath. He's still intense and possessive, but he's relaxed a little, like he knows he doesn't have to fully dig his claws into me to keep me here. I like both sides of him, the protective and the sweet.

"How are my favorite gardeners?" He crosses to us, crouching beside Brooke. He's changed from his paint-splattered clothes into a clean shirt, and there's something almost nervous in the set of his shoulders.

"We're planting dinner for next month," Brooke informs him solemnly.

"That's very forward-thinking." He tucks a strand of her wild hair behind her ear, then glances at me. "Harmony, I was hoping to talk with you."

Something in his tone makes my pulse quicken. "Is everything alright?"

"More than alright." He helps me to my feet, his touch lingering. "I've been thinking about something. Something important."

Brooke tugs at his hand. "Are you going to give Mama a present?"

A smile quirks the corner of his mouth. "How did you know?"

"Because you get this face." She scrunches her features into what I assume is her impression of Adellum's intensity. "Like this. All serious."

I laugh, dusting soil from my skirt. "She has you figured out."

Adellum reaches into his pocket and pulls out something that catches the light—a blue crystal set in a silver ring to match the geode he gave me for my birth a few months back. The geode he always carried around and now a ring to go with it.

"I've been carrying it for weeks, waiting for the right moment," he says quietly.

My breath catches as he slides it onto my finger. "It's beautiful."

"It's the beginning." His eyes hold mine, silver and sure. "Harmony, I want to ask you something."

Brooke watches us with wide eyes, unusually quiet. But she's bouncing on her toes like she knows what's coming, like she's in on her father's little secret.

Adellum takes my hands in his, mindless of the garden soil still clinging to my fingers. "I want us to be bound. Properly. Forever."

The world seems to still around us. "You mean a soul bond?"

The one thing I thought we could never have.

I spent so long holding myself back, thinking that there was no way I could ever really be his. And I know he sees all that old doubt creeping up.

"Yes." His voice drops lower, just for me. "I know what I'm asking. I know it's forever—that it's unbreakable. That's what I want. You. Brooke. This life we've built. I want it sealed and sacred."

My heart pounds against my ribs. The soul bond is more than marriage—it's a tethering of life forces, souls intertwined until death and beyond. For a xaphan to offer this to a human...

"Are you certain?" I whisper. "Once done, it can't be undone."

His fingers tighten on mine. "I've never been more certain of anything. I would have asked the day we decided to stay, but I wanted to give you time. To be sure."

"What's a soul bond?" Brooke tugs at my skirt, eyes bright with curiosity.

I look down at her, then back at Adellum. The evening light catches in his hair, turning it to pale fire. In his eyes, I see the man who searched for me across continents, who loves our daughter fiercely, who has built a life with me brick by careful brick.

"It's a kind of magic," I tell her. "A special kind of promise where your papa promises to love me."

"Like marriage?" She wrinkles her nose. She knows about human marriage from the village but there's no xaphan here, no soul bonds for her to understand.

"Deeper than marriage." Adellum's voice is soft but certain. "It means your mother and I would be connected forever. Our souls would always find each other."

Brooke's eyes widen. "That sounds nice."

I laugh, the sound catching on unexpected tears. "It does, doesn't it?"

"So?" Adellum's question hangs in the air between us, vulnerability naked in his eyes despite the confidence in his posture.

I step closer, fitting my soil-stained hands against his face. "Yes. Of course, yes."

The tension leaves his body in a rush. He leans his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure of you," I whisper. "Of us. I love you."

His kiss is gentle—reverent—and I melt into it, into him. When we part, Brooke is watching us with a mixture of fascination and mild disgust that makes me laugh.

"Can I watch the magic?" she asks, bouncing on her toes. "When you do the soul thing?"

Adellum sweeps her up into his arms. "Of course you can, little sorceress. You're part of this bond too."

"I am?" She looks between us, delighted.

"You're our hearts walking around outside our bodies," he tells her, with that fierce tenderness that still catches me off guard sometimes. "Of course you're part of it."

The xaphan soul bond ceremony isn't the elaborate spectacle I once imagined it might be—no grand procession through New Solas, no audience of nobles with their critical eyes and painted wings. It's just the four of us under the open sky: Adellum, me, Brooke, and the Nashai who arrived in Saufort two days ago.

We chose the meadow beyond our garden—a wild expanse of tall grass and wildflowers where Brooke likes to practice her magic. The setting sun paints everything in amber and gold, casting long shadows across the ground. In the distance, the silhouette of Saufort nestles against the darkening horizon, its windows beginning to glow with evening light.

I wear a simple white dress that falls to my ankles, the fabric light enough to catch the evening breeze. My hair is loose, the way Adellum likes it, with sprigs of meadow flowers woven through the curls by Brooke's careful fingers. The blue crystal ring gleams on my finger, catching the last rays of sunlight.

Adellum stands before me, resplendent in the simplicity of his formal clothes—a deep blue tunic that makes his silver eyes more luminous against his bronze skin. His wings are extended slightly, the soft gray feathers ruffled by the gentle wind. He's nervous—I can tell by the way he keeps flexing his hands at his sides, by the intensity in his gaze as it never leaves my face.

"Are you ready?" The Nashai's voice is melodic, her own white-gold wings folded elegantly against her back. She's older than I expected—her face lined with wisdom, her eyes kind but serious. "This bond cannot be broken. Your souls will intertwine—in this life and whatever lies beyond."

Adellum's hand finds mine, his fingers warm and steady despite his nerves. "We're ready."

I squeeze his hand, my heart thrumming against my ribs. "Yes."

Brooke watches wide-eyed from a few feet away, bouncing on her toes in the simple cream-colored dress we chose for her. She's been solemnly quiet for most of the day, absorbing the importance of what's happening with that preternatural awareness children sometimes possess.

The Nashai nods, her hands raising between us. "Then we begin."

She speaks in the ancient xaphan tongue—words I don't understand but feel in my bones nonetheless. They resonate in the air around us, weaving through the meadow grass, dancing on the breeze. As she speaks, her hands begin to glow with a soft golden light.

"The god Solis hears your intention," she says, switching to the common tongue. "Speak now your promise to each other."

Adellum's eyes never leave mine as he speaks. "Harmony." My name on his lips sounds like a prayer. "I choose you. I've only ever chosen you. Through darkness and light, through all the worlds we may walk, my soul reaches for yours. I promise to protect what we've built, to cherish what we create together. My life is yours, my heart has always been yours."

Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away, needing to see his face clearly. "Adellum." My voice catches, but I push through. "I never believed I could have this—this life, this love. You found me when I was lost, and you've shown me what it means to be truly seen. I promise to walk beside you through whatever comes, to build and rebuild with you as many times as we need to. My soul knows yours, has always known yours—I think even before we met."

The Nashai's hands glow brighter, and from them emerges a thread of shimmering golden light—like liquid sunshine. It floats between us, undulating gently in the air.

"With this tether, Solis binds what was always meant to be joined," she intones. "As this light enters your hearts, so shall your souls be forever woven together."

The golden thread separates into two strands that move with purpose toward each of our chests. I gasp as the light touches me—it's warm, like stepping into sunlight after too long in shadow. It sinks through my dress, through my skin, and I feel it settling somewhere deep inside me, a gentle pulsing warmth that matches the rhythm of my heartbeat.

Across from me, Adellum's eyes widen as his strand of light disappears into his chest. For a moment, the glow illuminates him from within, shining through his skin like he's made of glass. Then it fades, leaving only a soft luminescence around the edges of his form.

"It's done," the Nashai says simply. "Your souls are bonded. What Solis has joined cannot be severed."

The moment her words fade into the evening air, I feel it—a gentle tug in my chest, a thread connecting me to Adellum. It's subtle but undeniable, like the awareness of a limb I didn't know I had until now.

"Mama!" Brooke can't contain herself any longer. She dashes forward, bare feet kicking up wildflower petals as she launches herself between us. "Did it work? Are you magic now?"

I laugh, the sound bubbling up from a well of pure joy. "Not exactly, sunshine. But something magical happened."

"Can I see the mark?" She tugs at my neckline, peering at my chest. "The Nashai said there would be a mark!"

"Here." Adellum tugs down his collar, revealing a shimmering design over his heart—intricate swirls and patterns that seem to shift in the fading light.

I look down and pull aside my own collar. The same design marks my skin, though where his glows with a soft silver light, mine has a golden hue.

"It's pretty," Brooke breathes, tracing the mark with a gentle finger. "Does it hurt?"

"No, little one." I smooth her wild curls. "It feels like... belonging."

The Nashai bows to us and steps back, her formal role complete. She'll share a meal with us later, but this moment—this belongs just to us.

As the sun dips below the horizon, Brooke twirls away from us, arms outstretched, face tipped toward the darkening sky. "Look! Stars!" she calls, spinning faster, her bare feet kicking up grass and flower petals. Her giggles float on the evening air as she dances in wild, joyful circles around us.

Adellum pulls me against him, one wing curving around to cocoon us together. "How do you feel?" he murmurs against my hair.

"Complete." I tuck my head under his chin, feeling the steady thrum of his heart against my cheek. "Like I've found the missing piece of myself."

His arms tighten around me. "I can feel you. Here." He touches his chest where the mark glows. "It's like... an echo of your heartbeat beside my own."

Above us, the first stars appear—tiny pinpricks of silver against the deepening blue. The same stars we used to sit beneath in the gardens of New Solas, when our love was still a dangerous secret. The same stars I wished on during those lonely years in Saufort, before he found me again. The same stars that will watch over us for all the nights to come.

"Remember that first night you convinced me to sneak out?" I whisper, tipping my face up to his. "When you showed me the constellations?"

His smile is soft, his silver eyes reflecting the twilight. "You wore blue. You had dreelk leaves in your hair from the kitchen gardens, and you tried to hide them when you saw me."

"You noticed everything about me, even then."

"I still do." His finger traces the line of my jaw. "Every new freckle, every laugh line. They're all precious to me."

Brooke collapses in a breathless heap at our feet, her cheeks flushed with exertion. "The stars are coming out," she pants, pointing upward. "Ms. Marda says stars are the eyes of people who loved us watching over us."

And it feels like that now. Especially as I look into the eyes of the one man who has always loved me more than anything.

Adellum pulls me close, kissing the tip of my nose. "I love you, little bird."

I wrap my arms around his neck. "And I love you."