Page 62

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“D on’t panic, Princess.”

His voice rang like a gong as Astra’s eyes cracked open, a thick fog descending over her mind.

A glittering white hall materialized before her, decked in silver and gold, the floor polished to a pristine finish.

She only knew because she kneeled over it, wrists bound behind her, head hung forward.

She’d been changed into a silk dress, the fabric hardly concealing anything as it hugged every curve, falling into a pool of moonlight on the floor.

Her hair was swept away from her face and secured with a silver crown of stars.

The points dug into her scalp as she blinked, trying to shake off the strange clouds around her mind.

The bags under her eyes suggested she’d been out for a while.

“Astra,” an alluring voice hummed. Her head snapped up, three figures before her.

One was the man in black, his fingers resting against his chin as he studied her, his face round and tan, two dark eyes staring down his knotted nose.

The second appeared to be a woman of Elven descent, though Astra couldn’t place her.

Dripping in rosy shades of blush and pink, her skin glowed in a subtle shade of lavender, set off by iridescent pearls falling from the pointed tips of her ears. Perhaps one of Ehlaria’s ancestors.

She looked at Astra as if she was trash left in her path. In the middle stood a proud queen, even more frigid than Oestera. Her sharp glare sent a shiver down Astra’s spine.

Selenia.

“Grandmother!” She dipped her head, unsure how to address her in this setting.

“No Lunar princess should ever kneel. Get up.”

She shook her head, desperately trying to disperse the fog. Selenia sighed. “Alastair.”

A single command.

The man in black stepped behind her, wrapping his hands sharply around her wrists as he yanked her to her feet in one swift movement and tugged at the binds, freeing her. He returned beside Selenia, looking bored with the entire affair.

“You’ll pardon his attitude,” she said with little effect. “He detests when I send him down to the Courts Between.”

Alastair glared. “Worse than that, I found this one in the Astral. She didn’t put up a fight, at least.”

“I didn’t have the chance!”

“Now, now,” Selenia silenced her. “I did not bring you here to argue. I want you to join me as my honored guest this evening. We’re celebrating the Ascent of Neptune’s late queen. You’ll stay, of course.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“There’s always a choice, darling.” The way her eyes washed over Astra with a searing disdain told her she did, indeed, have two choices—stay or suffer Selenia’s wrath.

“Why me?”

Selenia chuckled, “I think we both know why I’d want to see you again.”

“Again?”

She glanced at the woman beside her as they shared a sly smile. “Have you forgotten our run-in the other night?”

“Oh,” Astra breathed. Unforgiving eyes flashed to her mind in the crowd at The Flare.

She stepped closer, the icy chill of her screaming at Astra to back away. All three held thick walls around their inner worlds, locked down from every angle. Astra should have expected as much.

“Stay for a few drinks. Alastair is a fine dancer. And after you’ve enjoyed yourself, we’ll have a little talk. Sound fair?”

“I assume I’m dressed appropriately?”

“For a half-human,” Alastair mocked.

“We’re late.” Selenia swept out of the room as the woman trailed behind her.

Alastair clicked his tongue and tilted his head toward the door, offering his arm.

Another “choice.”

She rested her hand on the crook of his elbow.

He pulled her in tight, straightening her back as they slipped through the doors and into a brilliant courtyard.

Glowing white lights hung from metallic trees.

Gilded roses blossomed under the moonlight.

The courtyard buzzed with gods, humans, and the in-between, all draped in various metallics and pastels.

Surrounding the courtyard were twelve thrones, carved with the names of each of the ancient gods the Living Courts prayed to.

Only Neptune sat on his throne, his hair falling in watery waves as he picked something off a plate held by a young woman with pointed ears.

The rest of the thrones were empty, their gods mingling amongst the crowd.

“You seem confused,” Alastair said as Selenia disappeared into the crowd with the Elven woman hot on her heels.

“It’s not how I pictured it.” Astra took in the rest of the courtyard. “They seem so… similar to us.”

“Gods are only what we make them,” Alastair said quietly. “You’d do well to remember that.”

Her eyes scanned the thrones one more time, catching on a thirteenth behind the Solar and Lunar thrones.

“Is that for the Nether Queen?”

“You ask all the wrong questions. Stay on my arm, do not talk to anyone if you can help it, and I’ll get you back to your little boyfriend in no time,” Alastair muttered, low enough for only her ears. Her eyes widened, his wicked sneer gone. His eyes softened, and his smile was genuine.

“What—”

“Your life depends on your acting skills here. You might be a fearsome creature in the Lunar Court, but the Court Above will eat you alive if you give them any shred of anxiety to feed on,” he said from the side of his mouth as he pulled her through the crowd and toward a marble bar laden with foods and wines.

He plucked two goblets from the spread and placed one in Astra’s hand, whispering into her ear, “I apologize in advance for the next hour. I’m afraid I’m going to be a bit of a bastard. ”

She sipped the wine, the bitter liquid slipping over her lips easily as he rounded the center of the courtyard where a mass huddled.

A trio of strings and a mesmerizing harpist played through an enchanting melody.

They listened as she followed his lead and drained the wine, letting it bolster the fog around her head into a warm wave, rolling over her bare shoulders.

Selenia stood across from them as they took in the sweet notes, her eyes trained on Alastair, a slight nod communicating something Astra couldn’t understand.

But, as he plucked the goblet from her hand and dropped it onto a garden table, she knew what came next.

The strings sang a new melody, and her hand floated upward as Alastair pulled her to the center of the floor, dozens of eyes sizing her up.

Several other couples joined as he spun her around, the silk skirt sliding against the dance floor.

“Smile, Astra,” he whispered. “You’re a spectacle to the gods.

Their humanity died centuries ago, they’ll lap up fresh blood eagerly.

” Then he did something unexpected—he lowered his guard.

A careful concoction of confidence and charm slithered off of him, warming her as they turned again. He leaned in close. “Better?”

She nodded.

He turned her in a half-circle, pushing her back against his chest, perfectly aligning his lips to her ear. “She’s going to make you a deal. Take it.”

Astra faced the crowd. Like living marble statues, the Ascended gods and goddesses of all the courts assembled to watch—to judge.

Most of them had made their triumphant Ascent to the Court Above centuries ago.

They’d long forgotten what the rush of red blood beneath flesh even felt like.

Liquid gold slipped through their veins now.

They watched like they knew who she was, knew what she was.

She turned her face toward him so they couldn’t read her lips, though she wondered if that mattered here.

“Why should I trust you, Alastair?”

He lifted his arm, twirling her in a full circle, facing her once again.

“Have you forgotten who you are, Fire Queen? What does your intuition tell you?”

He was right. Just like Lux had been when they met all those months ago. Nothing screamed to run from his arms. Nothing within his spirit felt like a threat. Something about the way he moved, the way he felt, was so familiar. As if they were crafted from the same dust.

“Who are you?”

“You’ve never heard of me?” He chuckled, bowing to her as their dance concluded. He moved back, looping her arm through his again, pulling her back into the crowd and weaving between prying eyes. “Alastair Obyss. Right Hand to the Lunar Goddess, Weaver of Dreams.”

“Sorry.” Astra watched two goddesses whisper as she passed. “I’m unfamiliar.”

He sighed. “That’s disappointing. You Lunarians have been robbed of all your fun.”

“That we can agree on. How did you get me here from a dream? Aren’t the gates only open on Equinoxes and Solstices?”

Alastair dropped his eyes to hers, his lips tilted into a crooked smile.

“Gods aren’t bound to such silly laws like time.

I’m surprised you’ve never tried the Divine Gate yourself.

Most don’t, but every so often one of you slips through—it makes for an amusing anecdote at dinner parties.

The Nether Queen, on the other hand, keeps a very tight lock on her gate between holidays—she’s not one for surprises. ”

He stiffened as Selenia approached, her eerie chill rolling ahead of her like a morning fog.

“I see your mother, at the very least, kept up with your dance instruction,” she tossed.

“Of course.” Astra forced a smile.

“I want you to meet some friends,” Selenia mused, gesturing for them to follow her.

Astra spent the next half hour listening to the Goddess of Mercury preen on and on about how excited they were to have a Lunar Princess inherit the court.

She tried her best not to frown every time she mentioned Mirquios.

As the goddess started on her third round of stories about her time on the throne centuries ago, someone in an all-white tunic approached and whispered in Alastair’s ear. His lips fell into a tight line.

“Pardon me,” he said, handing Astra to Selenia. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Selenia wrapped her arm around her granddaughter’s and nodded along to the goddess’s tales, stifling a yawn.