Page 73

Through the cobblestone courtyard, Archer led us past townhouses, cabins, and the silver canal. More than a thousand civilians stood waiting.

“I’m nervous,” I whispered, my hand trembling slightly in his.

“Don’t be,” Archer murmured. “You protected my country, Severyn. Without training. Without guidance. You did that.”

Ash still scarred the perimeter. The air hung thick with the scent of smoke and iron. I stood in a gown the color of fading fire. It was pale pink threaded with gold and soot. Amria had woven air into the fabric, siphoning inspiration from the breath of the city itself.

Civilians turned as we approached, silver-flecked eyes full of reverence.

Archer moved with quiet command. He stepped forward and raised his voice.

“For over a hundred years, my family has ruled the shadows of Demetria. We are the last standing Night realm in Verdonia. I’ve been away too long, and for that, I am sorry. ”

He bowed his head.

“I was granted an heir,” he said, “and she was called to shine her light elsewhere. I now introduce you properly to Severyn.”

Their gazes shifted .

I opened my mouth—then faltered. “I—I…”

I wasn’t their heir. I was born of frost and fire, not shadow. My blood was rebellion to them. But then, one by one, they knelt.

A woman whispered through tears, “Her flame kept my child warm when the starlight shields vanished.”

“Her fire let us cook fish from the canal,” another added. “We survived because of her.”

“I didn’t know,” I breathed. “I only wanted to protect you.”

Archer lifted my hand. “Severyn was born of ice, but she carries flame in her blood. She is my keeper of shadows. Let us show her our thanks.”

And they did. Power rippled around us—shadows, mist, and starlight erupting in celebration. Gratitude thickened the air like incense. My chest ached with it.

A small girl stepped forward, no older than five. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and bright.

“Name a star after her,” she whispered to Archer. “That one shines the brightest.”

I knelt, letting my gown spill around me like ashen moonlight. “Which one?” I asked.

She spun, giggling, and pointed. “That one.”

Archer’s smile was soft. “The star of Severyn has a nice ring to it.”

The girl tugged on my hand. “Can I see your flamey?”

I bent closer, brushing her cheek. “My fire? What would you like to see?”

“A dragon in the stars. Or… a flower.”

“A flower,” I said. I lifted my hand, and flame shimmered skyward, unfurling into the shape of a glowing hellebore. Then, with a grin, I drew a dragon beside it. Or tried to. It sort of looked like a dragon… maybe more like a stick-figure beast with wings.

She gasped anyway. “My sister rides a wyvern! ”

Her smile. Her silver hair. The way her lashes framed a gray-flecked gaze. Something twisted inside me. I had seen those eyes before in an academy bunk, in a war camp, even when she hovered over me cursing.

She looked like Antonia.

“Who’s your sister?” I asked, voice soft.

The girl glanced up. “Tonia. She’s a guard.”

My breath caught.

“She’s also my friend,” I said quietly. Antonia might have disagreed with that. She had only granted me three hours, but it had meant something. And I wasn’t letting it go.

“Really?” The girl’s silver-flecked eyes widened, awestruck.

“Yes. She’s powerful.”

Archer knelt beside her. “Selna, one day, you’ll ride a dragon.”

She blushed, whispered something I couldn’t make out, then bolted across the square toward a woman I assumed was her mother.

I turned to him, squinting. “Warn me next time I find out you’re great with children. Gods.”

He stood, a faint smile playing on his lips as his arms slipped around my waist. “The child ran away from me.”

“That’s beside the point.”

His smile faded. “Why didn’t you tell me you were still holding the shield?”

“Barely,” I admitted. “I didn’t want to let go.”

“You’ve guarded my realm better than I ever have,” he murmured. “Wrathi doesn’t deserve you. But it needs you.”

“You still have to bond with a dragon,” I said, trying for lightness. “No one will ever compare to Ciaran.”

His voice broke. “It’ll be the second hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

I looked up at him. “And the first? ”

He hesitated. “Severing our bond.”

I swallowed. “Where is she?”

“Waiting,” he said. “For her next rider.”

“It feels wrong.” I looked into his face, searching. “What did they do to you?” My voice barely carried.

He didn’t answer right away. But I already knew when I saw the fresh scars on his skin. “I begged her to break it. She refused. So I turned to the Gods. I pleaded with them to sever it before the guards could read my mind and find you.” His throat bobbed. “I didn’t expect the Forgotten to answer.”

I stepped closer, resting a hand on his chest. “If you ever have a child, will they take you away like they did Reina?”

He stilled. “I told you I don’t want a child in a world like this.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

“No,” he said, tightening his grip on my hand.

“You don’t. I feel what you feel. I know you want a quiet life, a soft one.

And I want that, too. But I bargained myself away to keep you alive.

I don’t regret it. I’d do it again. But if the other realms find out what you are to me…

it’s not uncommon for rulers to assassinate truemates to prevent their bloodlines from growing stronger. ”

He didn’t have to finish. I knew what would happen. I’d seen what people did to threats they couldn’t understand.

“I don’t care about fairytales,” I said. I took his face in my hands. “Let’s not think about what comes next.”

But we both knew the lie of that.

He rested his forehead against mine. “Just a little longer,” he said. “Let’s pretend we have time.”

And still, as the wind whistled through the hills of Demetria, I couldn’t stop thinking about what was coming next.