Page 59

Daimon

A lux wasn’t for the dead. And if Daimon were honest, he wished they weren’t for the living either. Each race of fae had its own way of celebrating the loss of life, but he could do without all of them.

When a Woodland died, a ceremony was always held somewhere in the glade. There were flowers and songs, dancing and drinking—but it was still a lux. The Nox gathered in the grove and dreamed together, bringing memories of the fae they lost to life.

He did always feel partial to how the Undine celebrated. They would have a day of silence and remembrance, staying quiet in the depths of the Andronicus among luminescent coral that glowed at night.

The Aegis held a pyre, letting it burn a day for each year the fae was alive. It often ended in them brawling, fighting each other to escape the grief of death. It was how he knew Keir would’ve wanted things done for him—Ranick and Elias, too.

But no matter the tradition, a lux was supposed to represent someone passing into the light of Caelum, their souls living in harmony alongside the Goddess of the Moon, Eurydice.

Humans had their own kind of lux—a funeral. He had only seen one human funeral, and he had watched it while hiding behind the bushes with Ren beside him, eager to get a glimpse of a human tradition.

This lux was far more different than any he had ever been to. They were holding a mass ceremony, honoring the lives of those lost in battle. There were fae from each race gathered in one place with pieces of their traditions patched together.

His eyes searched for Evelina—as they always did—the moment he arrived with his aerial unit, or what remained of it. The reminder turned his veins to ice, his insides twisting. Daimon would rather be anywhere but here, his chest far too tight.

He didn’t want to grieve around people he didn’t know. He wanted to build a pyre for Ranick, Elias, and Keir. A private lux with only Evelina, Brielle, Willow, and Aster present. He would honor Elias and Ranick the best he could while surrounded by strangers. The pyre for Keir was empty, with no body left to burn.

But it seemed everyone that could make it to the lux in time came for it. Eager to honor the warriors who lost their lives, including the prince of the empire and the queen. There were flurries of bright clothing and bare skin, a show of celebration to honor those who were buried deep in the dirt.

A flash of honey-brown hair caught his eye, disappearing behind dozens of nameless faces. Her hair was still braided from the night before, though slightly messier. His heart raced, touched that she had left it just how he braided it. Wondering if she too wasn’t ready to let the night go.

Evelina

The lux was outside of Eurydice’s temple—a deep, painful reminder of the last time Evelina had been here for Annora and Aldric’s bonding ceremony. It felt like a knife twisting in her stomach.

There had been a brief happiness that night, seeing her closest friend bind her soul to her love in such a sacred tradition. But then she left for the border, and everything changed. Maybe that’s why Eurydice had looked at her the way she did while inhabiting the Sacred’s body—a warning of what was to come.

Now Evelina was back, in a once-happy place, feeling like her heart was going to stop at any moment from the amount of pain she felt.

Fate had a way of being cruel like that.

She took a deep breath, her hands beginning to shake.

A burst of laughter came from in front of her—a Woodland dancing and drinking juniper fizz. Evelina tore her gaze away from the smiling fae; the bright disposition of those celebrating the lux was blinding.

She was considering finding a place to hide when she finally caught a glimpse of Annora. She looked mostly the same, still beautiful with her raven hair and bright gray eyes. But Evelina gasped as Annora turned toward her, a hand resting on her swollen belly.

Evelina felt a pang in her chest at all she had missed.

Their gazes met, and the pain eased slightly. Annora walked over to her, Aldric close behind.

“I’m so glad you made it back,” Annora whispered. She pulled away, swiping a tear from her cheek.

“You’re pregnant,” Evelina blurted.

Annora smiled softly. “There was no hiding the scars on our palms after we found out we were having a child.” She looked up at Aldric and he placed an arm around her shoulder. Annora turned back to Evelina, her eyes misty with gathering tears. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve lost,” she whispered.

Evelina couldn’t stop her own tears from falling. “If I had been with Ren, maybe?—”

Annora shook her head and placed a hand on Evelina’s shoulder. “You have no control over who lives and who dies, as much as you’d like to, Evie.”

Evelina’s tears rolled down her cheeks, one after the other. She was supposed to be the shield, the protector. But she was beginning to learn she couldn’t save everyone.

“My mother should be here.” Evelina’s voice cracked, raw from screaming into her pillow for nearly an hour that morning. “They should all be here.”

Even after seeing Daimon in the cave, she still felt like screaming until her voice gave out. Being with him only dulled her pain, the ache flaring the moment she had returned to her room.

“We’ll see them again one day,” Annora whispered.

They pushed through the crowd—through the dancing and the drinking—but they kept getting stopped by those who wanted to share their condolences.

“They’re all basking in the light of Eurydice now,” a Nox said with a smile, his face genuinely happy. “May we all make it there someday.”

Evelina gave the Nox a tight smile and looked for a way to escape as the fae kept talking, telling stories of a time he spent an evening drinking with Ren in a tavern. Thankfully, Annora cut into the conversation and kept them moving.

A deep calm fell over Evelina, wrapping around her senses and easing the tension in her chest. The moment she realized what was causing it, she felt a warm hand press against the small of her back.

“Are you okay?” Daimon’s deep voice washed over her as he whispered into her ear .

She shook her head and looked up at him. “Are you?”

His mouth pressed into a deep frown. He leaned closer to her. “No,” he said quietly.

Even though they weren’t okay, they both seemed to understand that they might be someday—and that it hurt a little less when they were together.

Evelina slipped her hand into his, needing to hold on to some semblance of steadiness.

Gasps rang out from all around her as people started to point behind her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Annora turn. Her hand flung to cover her mouth.

Evelina turned too, freezing once she saw what had caused the commotion.

A ring of white fire was glowing over Carwyn’s head.