Page 37

Chapter

Twenty-Three

DAIN

“ D on’t write that last part down.”

I turned from the window as the court scribe’s quill scratched against the parchment.

Sunlight streamed over the long, glossy table and thick rug, casting everything in warm gold.

Two years in the Summer Court, and I still wasn’t used to having my own rooms. My own anything, really.

But my chamber connected to Ezabell’s, and Ezabell’s connected to Nikolas’s, and when evening fell and we dismissed the servants?—

“What should I write instead, my lord?” the scribe asked, looking up.

My lord. I’d probably never get used to the title, either. But no matter how many times I told the castle staff to call me “Dain” they just smiled, nodded, and promptly ignored me.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. “Leave it at the part where Helios enters the Grove for now. I want to review everything we have so far in case I forgot anything.” Future generations of elves would read the story of Ezabell the Summer Queen and her two thieves. I had to make sure it was perfect.

The scribe smiled as he rose from the table. “You’re skilled enough with a quill to write it yourself now, my lord.”

Heat spread over my nape. “Thanks to you,” I said. He’d been patient with me over the past two years, teaching me to read the Common Tongue as well as the elves’ ancient language. “But my handwriting is still terrible.”

The scribe closed the book and tucked it under his arm. “We’ll practice that next, my lord. Tomorrow, perhaps?”

“I look forward to it.”

He bowed and left, and I turned back to the window.

Sprawling gardens stretched beyond the palace, everything lush and green.

Flowers bloomed in manicured beds. Fountains bubbled between white stone paths, and courtiers strolled in pairs, their bright silks shimmering in the sunlight.

Two years, and it still felt like a dream.

But lately, doubts had gnawed at me. Nikolas hadn’t stopped asking Ezabell to marry us. Not a week went by without him bringing it up in some way—sometimes teasingly, sometimes seriously, always hopefully. Ezabell always smiled and said we’d do it when the time was right.

But what if the time was never right?

We were sunbound to her, our lives entwined with hers. It had taken the elves of Lum Laras a while to warm up to the idea of two human thieves at the queen’s side—and in her bed. But we’d won them over. We made Ezabell happy, and her people were enamored with their queen.

So why hadn’t their queen said yes to marriage? Maybe she didn’t want to be bound to two criminals for her immortal life. Maybe she wanted more suitable consorts.

A king.

The door opening behind me pulled me from my brooding. I turned as Nikolas strode in, the tight cut of his silk coat robbing my breath. A master thief, he never failed to steal it. His arms were bare, and the sigils that ran down the lean muscle sparkled as he came to me and pulled me into a kiss.

I grunted, then groaned as he fisted my jacket and stroked his tongue deep. Kisses were never a half-measure with Nikolas. He always kissed like he meant it, like the world was on fire and time was running out.

My dick swelled, desire rushing me. I pulled his hips into mine and worked my cock over his. The table was nice and sturdy. I’d bent him over it a time or two, and it never squeaked. And we had plenty of time before the evening feast. Ezabell wouldn’t mind if we?—

Nikolas pulled back suddenly, his eyes twinkling above flushed cheeks. “Easy, big guy.”

Grunting, I reached for him again, but he stopped me with a hand on my chest. “Ezabell wants us.”

“Now?”

Nikolas laughed. “Don’t look like that.” He winked as he tugged me toward the door. “She has a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?” I demanded, hearing the sexual frustration in my voice.

“You’ll see,” Nikolas said over his shoulder. He led me through the palace’s sunlit halls, laughing when I grumbled about “assholes who start things they aren’t prepared to finish.” Servants dipped curtsies. Courtiers smiled and nodded as we passed.

When we turned down a narrow passageway painted with murals of flowers and curling vines, I realized we headed toward the Grove.

“Are we planting more flowers?” I asked.

Ezabell had expanded the garden a great deal since she claimed her crown.

New sections branched from the original walls.

Rows of flowers and rare herbs lined the oldest paths, but as Ezabell’s powers had grown, so had her ambition.

A crystal terrarium housed delicate frostblossoms from the Winter Court.

Oaks from the Autumn Court offered shade on sweltering days.

Tanyl of the Spring Court had sent a marsh as a gift.

Nikolas flashed a mysterious smile. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“I hate you.”

He rushed ahead so he could beat me to the doors. Then he tossed me another wink over his shoulder. “You love me.”

I grunted, my gaze on his ass. “You’re right. I love you.” But I had plans for that ass later…

Ezabell wasn’t in the Grove, but her presence sparkled everywhere.

Daisy chains dangled between the trees. Roses bloomed where they had no business growing—on tree trunks and statues and the watercolor murals she’d painted on the walls.

Sunlight sparkled in glass orbs balanced on striped wooden poles, their glow chasing the evening shadows away.

But the waist-high stone pedestal in the center of a grassy clearing was new. Nikolas slowed as we approached it, his gaze returning to me again and again. A book sat atop the pedestal, its gilded edges catching the sunlight.

When I caught sight of the cover, my heart began to race. Beautiful golden script scrawled across the leather.

DAIN ZOSTAS, WARRIOR OF LIGHT

My hands shook as I reached for it. The leather was warm against my skin. When I opened the book, a handwritten note was tucked between the cover and the first page.

For the boy who loved listening to stories. For the man who believed I was worth following, even when I didn’t know where I was going. You are not just part of the sunstone. You are its heart. I can’t wait to read the stories you make.

—Ezabell Kasreneth, Queen of the Summer Court

Stunned, I could only stand frozen, my heart the only moving part of me.

“Do you like it?”

Ezabell stepped from behind a tree. Barefoot and breathtaking, she strode toward me with the skirts of her yellow gown billowing around her long legs. She stopped beside me and smoothed a warm palm up my arm.

“I had the court historians write a book about our battles during the Dokimasi,” she said. “But this one…” She stroked a finger down the book’s golden edges. “This one is yours.”

When I finally found my voice, it was little more than a whisper. “You gave me a whole book?”

She nodded. “There are a lot of blank pages. I guess you’ll have to get busy filling them up.”

Nikolas leaned in to peek at the book, then let out a low whistle. “If I don’t get one of these, I’m starting a rebellion.”

Ezabell grinned at him. “Yours is in the library. In the comedy section.”

I hugged the book to my chest, my throat painfully tight. “This means everything, Bel. Thank you.”

Her expression changed, and pink dusted her cheekbones. She ducked her head. “There’s, ah, something else I wanted to give you. Both of you.” She reached into one of her gown’s deep pockets and withdrew two rings.

My heart stopped. Beside me, Nikolas went completely still. The rings were simple golden bands of elven gold. They were perfect.

Ezabell held the rings on her palm, her voice suddenly shy. “I’d hoped that maybe you two would like to call me your wife.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Nikolas whooped and sprang forward, catching her around the waist and swinging her through the air.

“Does that mean yes?” she cried, laughing.

Nikolas set her on her feet. “Yes,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Gods, yes.”

I went to them and pulled them both into my arms. The book got in the way, and we laughed as I stuffed it down the front of my jacket so I could draw them in more tightly.

“Yes,” I said, burying my face in Ezabell’s neck. “I’ll marry you.” She really wanted us forever. Not out of duty. Not because of the sunstone. Just…us. We never had much of a future before her. Now we had pages to fill.

“And me,” Nikolas said. When I lifted my head, he was already sliding one of the rings onto his finger. “Double wedding. Twice the cake.”

Ezabell shook her head, but she smiled as she took my hand and pushed the other ring over my knuckle. “It fits!” she said, triumph gleaming in her golden eyes.

I pulled her against me. “Must be magic.”