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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ADOM

“T he celestial alignment approaches. Avarix draws near, and the eclipse must not pass without fulfillment. The curse demands resolution. We urge you to keep your word.”

There was only one person standing in front of me. But the Skykeeper Mages always spoke in the third person.

They urged me to keep my word? Did they think I wouldn't marry the woman the moon had blessed me with? Did they not hear my roar of pleasure last night? Did they not know the vows had already been whispered in the dark, sealed in sweat and the sweet sound of her sighs?

Probably not by the looks of them. This Skykeeper Mage had a crescent-shaped hood over their head. They spent their nights chanting to the moons in what had looked like a carnal fervor to me, the one and only time I'd gone into their temple. That had been the night that the moon revealed the name of my bride-to-be.

“I will keep my word.”

"And the princess?"

My canine snagged on my lower lip as I thought about my fairy with that mane of violet hair and those lush lavender wings. She was a sphinx—my sphinx. The sight of her in our bed, rumpled and sated, was the only way I'd ever leave her side. That parting would always be temporary.

"Princess Charlotte is willing."

She was more than willing; she was eager. Not more eager than I was. Right now, she was late, and my impatience was starting to show.

“We thank you for your sacrifice, Your Highness.”

Sacrifice . That word clung to me like a second skin. I’d been both its noun and verb since the moment of my conception. My parents’ love had been a defiance of the celestial order, and I was the price paid for their rebellion. The moon had marked me as a sacrifice, my body warped by its curse. I had sacrificed my childhood to the whispers of pity and fear, my humanity to claws and teeth. For years, I had used this beastly form to keep the people of Solmane safe, their last defense against the endless tide of trolls.

No more. The curse would be broken. The moon’s favor would return. I had finally found what I needed to be whole. And there she was, walking toward me.

Her lavender skin glowed as Lyra's rays peeked in from the windows. She wore a gown of deep emerald green, its color a perfect contrast to her skin tone. The fabric hugged her figure before flaring at her hips. Delicate gold embroidery trailed along the hem like vines. Her hair was pinned up, but loose curls framed her face, teasing the nape of her neck. I wanted to reach out and take it all down, just to watch the curls cascade around her shoulders, to lose my fingers in their softness.

She was biting at her lip, too. Unlike mine, hers was a nervous nibble. Her gaze was downcast. She was fidgeting—Charlotte, who had stood boldly before me with scissors and defiance, now looked unsure of herself.

I closed the distance between us in three strides. “What’s wrong, little sphinx?”

Her eyes flicked up to mine, wide and full of uncertainty. “I… I failed you.”

I didn't bother with more words. I pulled her closer, wrapping her inside my embrace where nothing would hurt her. My claws didn't even snag in her fabric this time.

“The luncheon. I was a disaster. I mixed up the forks. I spoke to the wrong person in the wrong order. Most of the time, I didn’t know what to say. I sat there like an idiot while everyone talked over me. I don’t know politics. I don’t know how to… how to be what you need.”

A laugh rumbled in my chest before I could stop it. I felt her wings ruffle beneath their bindings. I wanted to free them, wanted her to never hide any part of herself from me. Instead of freeing her wings, I captured her mouth.

She stiffened in surprise but melted into me within seconds. Her hands found their way to my chest, and her small claws snagged into the lapels. Her lips were soft, sweet, addictive. I wanted to lose myself in her for hours, and I would. As soon as we faced our toughest challenge of this day, and that wasn't a snooty luncheon.

“My little sphinx . I don’t care if you mix up the forks or speak to the wrong person. I don’t care what kind of impression you make. The only thing that matters is that I like you. The rest of them can hitch a ride on a comet's tail.”

“Okay." She nodded but scrunched that perfect button nose like she didn't like the taste of the word. "That's the court. But… what if your mother doesn’t like me?”

“My mother probably won’t like you. She doesn’t even like me.”

Charlotte jerked back. She didn't get far. I had her hand in mine.

I pushed on the towering doors of the throne room, not giving her a chance to back away. I felt the faintest tremor in her grip. I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her fingers as she'd kissed my claws in the middle of the night when I'd woken to find the curse still possessing me.

The fingers of her free hand pressed against my heart. The faint hum of her magic stirred the air between us. The coarse weave of my shirt softened. The material smoothed over my shoulders, tightening just enough to hint at the breadth of my chest without constricting. The hem adjusted itself, falling cleanly at my waist, and the collar molded to frame my neck with an elegance it hadn’t possessed a moment ago.

"Perfect," she said, more to herself than to me.

I stared down at the shirt, then back at her. She had sculpted the garment directly onto me, each stitch perfectly aligned, every seam flawless. She had fixed my clothing, then looked into my beastly face and called me perfect.

I wanted to take it back. I wanted to take her back to the luncheon and find every shifter, fairy, or human who had been mean to her and fillet their skin from their bones.

"We do not linger in doorways. We enter with purpose or leave without hesitation. Indecision has no place in a throne room."

Queen Amara wasn't sitting on her throne. She sat on a chaise near the window, her back straight, regal, every inch the Lioness Queen. Her skin was the color of fertile earth after a spring rain, smooth and rich. Her hair spilled in wild waves of gold, brown, and black—a riot of untamed power that used to glow with life but had dulled over the years of her grief.

She didn’t look at me. Her gaze, as always, was fixed on the painting that hung next to the empty thrones over the seat where my father had sat next to her for ten years.

Her fingertips danced over the vial at her neck. I'd opened it once when she was sleeping. My nose still wrinkled at the scent of poison that went up my nostrils and down my throat.

“Mother?”

Her gaze snapped up, and I caught it—the flinch. It was slight, a flicker in her golden eyes, but it was there. It always was. I barely reacted nowadays.

“Is this her then?”

Charlotte stepped forward, her lavender skin catching the light in a way that made her look like a figure carved from amethyst. She curtsied, graceful despite the tension in her movements. “Your Majesty.”

My mother’s gaze sliced over her like a blade, assessing every inch with cool, unhurried precision. “At least she's something pretty for you to look at.” Her tone was devoid of warmth or approval. “She’ll break this curse, and then this tiresome ordeal will finally be over.”

It had been fine—bearable—when my mother was dismissive of me. I’d learned to endure it. But seeing her treat Charlotte with the same careless indifference stung.

“What curse?” Charlotte asked.

I’d assumed Queen Indira had explained everything to her daughter. Just as I'd assumed Charlotte had been schooled on my preferences in all things. Clearly, I’d been wrong. I reached for my bride, taking her hand gently in mine as I searched for the words to explain.

“Oh, Adom, you’ve done it now. The one thing I warned you not to do.”

For the first time in years, my mother was looking me in the face. She rose from her chaise, her movements slow but deliberate. Her golden eyes, so much like my own, narrowed as she approached. When she reached me, her hand came up to my cheek. The touch was almost tender, but her words carried no such kindness.

“The point was to obey, not to fall in love. The moon will punish you. ”

I flashed my eyes at the queen, a low growl rumbling in my chest.

She ignored what I'm sure she considered a tantrum and turned her ire on my bride. I braced myself for my mother's vitriol, preparing to block Charlotte in any way necessary.

But the queen said nothing. Her lips pursed. Then she turned sharply, her silks swishing around her as she swept from the room without another word.

"Adom? The curse? Is something wrong? Is something going to happen to you? Are you going to be okay?"

I pulled this perfect gift into my arms. I understood why dragons would burn whole cities and commit genocide. I'd do the same if anyone threatened my treasure.

“My mother was supposed to marry a fairy from your land. It was part of a pact that Avarix decreed generations ago. But she fell in love with my father when they were just children. He was human, a man who had no claim to the moon’s favor. They married, and when I was born, Avarix cursed me. He left me like this—caught between forms, neither man nor lion. But the curse didn’t stop with me. The moon took its protection away from our lands. The trolls invaded, tearing through our borders unchecked."

Charlotte opened her mouth as though she wanted to ask a question. But then appeared to think better of it. She placed her hands on my chest, right over the heart that beat for her, and let me continue.

“The curse can only be broken when I marry the fairy princess that Avarix chose for me. You were born on the next Hunter's Eclipse after my father's death, marking you the woman that the moon chose for me. When we exchange our vows, Avarix will restore his favor and his protection. I’ll be able to shift into man or lion at will, no longer caught between forms.”

Charlotte's fingers clenched into my shirt, as though trying to hold on to me. Which was why her next words confused me. “What if I refused to marry you?”

“The trolls would continue to swarm, their entire brood eventually getting past the border of Solmane. The soil of Evergrove will remain fallow. Some mages think Avarix will think up even more creative punishments for our lands. And I would remain stuck in this beastly form for the rest of my days.”

Charlotte pursed her lips together. Tears pricked the corner of one eye. I caught the first one before it could fall by pressing my lips to her eyelids. She let out a sob, and I pulled her closer.

“We don’t have to worry about that. Because it's you. And it's me. We want each other."

I felt dampness against my cheek. Why were more tears spilling from her lovely eyes? I tucked her head against my chest so that she could feel my heart beating for her, so that she would know the depths of my feelings were all for her.

"My mother was right; I love you. Last night, I thought the curse might have broken when I made my vows to you, but I suppose Avarix will wait until he gives Lyra chase during the Hunter's Eclipse before he breaks his curse on me. Once he does, I’ll come to you as a whole man. A man worthy of you.”

Charlotte jerked out of my hold, staring up at me in horror. "Don't say that. Don't you dare say that again. You are more than worthy. You're my whole… everything."

She reached up and brushed her fingers against my cheek. She ran her hands down my chest. I didn't think I had any knots left, but the last holdout unraveled something deep inside me. This little sphinx had more power over me than the mightiest of moons.

"You're my whole everything too, Charlotte."