Page 34 of The Fallen and the Kiss of Dusk (Crowns of Nyaxia #4)

MISCHE

T he look on Raihn’s face destroyed me. Utterly destroyed me.

Because after that initial wave of shock, he looked so damned happy . His entire massive form just sagged in a full-body sigh of relief.

“Mische,” he breathed. “I can’t believe it’s—thank the fucking Mother.”

I blurted out, “What are you doing here?”

I spoke too quickly to temper my tone, and it struck Raihn like an open palm. His mouth closed. His emotions went cold. His gaze darted between me and Asar, who had stepped protectively in front of me.

Raihn? Asar asked into my mind. Raihn, the Nightborn king? Here?

And then, when my silence gave him the answer: Is he stupid?

Yes. Yes, he was. He had to be. What was he thinking?

“Who the hell are you?” Raihn snapped at Asar.

Asar bristled.

Stop— I started to tell him. Not quickly enough. Because he smoothly answered, “I’m her husband.”

It was the absolute worst thing he could have said. My entire body folded into a cringe.

“Husband?” Raihn bit out.

“What are you doing here, Raihn?”

He could not be here. He could not be here.

A cold gust of wind cut through the ballroom, this time with a low, mournful whistle that sounded like a choir of bodiless voices.

The room was dark. The spirits were restless, now gathering at the outskirts of the ballroom, staring at the guests with blatant jealousy.

The guests’ attention had turned to the dais and the bright crimson moon hanging over it through the window, oblivious to what was unfolding here—oblivious to the presence of Nightborn royalty.

Raihn wore no crown, no royal garb, nothing to mark him as king.

What the hell had his plan been? To march out into the middle of the Melume ceremony, reveal his identity, and demand my release? Sun fucking take me.

I knew that Egrette must be screaming into Asar’s mind right now, calling him to the Dusk Window. They had only minutes to conduct the ceremony. Yet, he didn’t move, one hand on my lower back, his stare piercing Raihn.

“What the fuck do you mean, what am I doing here ?” Raihn said. “I’m here for you.”

He stepped closer, and Asar hissed, “That’s enough.”

Raihn shot him a seething glare, which dragged from head to feet. I knew the calculation he was making. I knew that he was thinking of another party and another Shadowborn prince, and I knew exactly how all those pieces fit together from where he stood.

“Asar!” Egrette’s annoyed voice cut across the ballroom. She paced the dais, cape swishing behind her. “It is time.”

But Asar didn’t move.

Go, I snapped at him.

I’m not leaving you alone with ? —

You need to do the ceremony, and you need to do it right now. Just go.

“Mische,” Raihn said, voice low. “What the fuck is going on?”

Asar didn’t want to—I could practically taste his reluctance—but in the end, he had no choice. We wouldn’t be going anywhere if he never managed to bring the Melume on at all. So with a final wary stare, he acquiesced.

“Get over here,” I hissed to Raihn, ushering him to the corner of the ballroom. My chest was tight with the ghost of a quickened heartbeat. The dead were swarming at the edges of my vision, urging me on.

“You can’t be here,” I whispered. Then, a particularly terrible thought struck me. “Is Oraya here? Please tell me Oraya is not here.”

The thought of both of them, together, placed in this danger was devastating.

“No. Jesmine is waiting, though. The invitation was technically hers.” His eyes were already darting between the exits. “They’ll all be distracted for a few minutes. Let’s go. We’ll be halfway to the House of Night before?—”

“The House of Night?” I repeated, and Raihn gave me a dumbfounded look—like my confusion was perplexing.

“We haven’t heard from you for nearly a year, Mish. A fucking year . We knew you had been captured by the Shadowborn. Did you really think that we wouldn’t come for you?”

He said it like this was not only obvious, but downright offensive to consider otherwise.

And I did feel foolish that it hadn’t crossed my mind they would come for me.

Because of course the Nightborn spies would have heard of my very public capture and sentencing.

Of course he and Oraya would think that I was off in Morthryn.

And of course they would think that the only reason I was still alive— if I was still alive—would be because the Shadowborn had some worse torture planned for me.

My eyes burned. Strange that I had no beating heart, and yet, it was hard to think of another word for the pain between my ribs.

I said, “I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze shot to the dais, where Asar stood beside Egrette, who addressed the crowd with grand, royal exuberance. The ceremony had begun, but Asar still looked only at us.

Raihn’s eyes darkened. “Mische, if you’re being forced into something?—”

“I’m not,” I said quickly.

“—we will burn this kingdom to the fucking ground. I don’t care what wars we?—”

“Raihn, stop. Please. ”

Again, I started toward him, only to stop myself. He took in that hesitation, a line between his brows.

“I’m so relieved to see you,” he said. “You have no idea how worried we were.”

I did have some idea. Perhaps it even verged on the worry I felt for Raihn right now, as worlds inched toward collision.

Luce, who I had barely noticed return, rubbed protectively against my legs, staring Raihn down.

The dead slithered from the shadows. One of them, a faceless silhouette, wrapped its arms around Raihn’s shoulders.

He didn’t react—didn’t see it. But I had a hard time hearing anything over the whispers. My head throbbed.

On the dais, Asar and Egrette now turned to the Window. Egrette pulled off the veil, revealing the gleaming silver surface, reflecting an inverted image of this very ballroom, millennia ago.

“You don’t understand,” I said to Raihn, struggling to lower my voice. “You need to leave.”

“Then help me understand.” He stepped closer, and I jerked away.

Hurt flinched over his face. A physical reaction, like I’d slapped him.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had greeted Raihn with anything other than a hug.

Gods, he gave the best hugs. They had rescued me from so many nightmares.

So many long days spent so close and so far from the sun.

They had reminded me that I had someone to live for in the long years when I felt like I’d lost everything.

Now, I couldn’t even let him look at me too closely. He knew me so well; he, of all people, would see the difference in me.

And in this moment, I felt so, so dead.

“Please,” I begged him. “Please just go.”

Raihn’s anger had now fallen away.

“Help me understand, Mish,” he said again, and that note of helplessness nearly broke me.

I opened my mouth?—

—and doubled over, hands pressed to my forehead.

A wail vibrated my bones. No, not one wail, but thousands—millions. I forced my head up again to see that the Window was glowing bright, and the reflection within it no longer depicted the ballroom.

I understood the purpose of the black fabric on the walls.

Because now, another world was superimposed over this one—another castle.

The architecture was beautiful, ornate columns and sweeping arches, all rendered in translucent, ghostly paint strokes of the past. Silhouetted figures swept around the ballroom, playing out a mirror image of what they had done here thousands of years ago, weaving through the delighted vampire guests.

This was what this place had looked like in another age, when Alarus had still ruled it. A ghost’s breath warmed the back of my neck: Now. Go now.

Beside me, Luce paced anxiously, as if to say, Let’s go. Let’s go.

We only had a few minutes. If we missed this opportunity, it would be over. I was already supposed to be making my way to the mask’s holding chamber.

Things were about to get bad.

And I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Raihn’s face—that stupid, sweet, sad puppy dog face. Gods fucking damn him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I blurted out as I turned away. “I have to go.”

“Mische—” he called after me.

But I was already running down the halls.