Chapter 49
Nia
“URGENT RECALL: CHICKEN brEASTS PULLED FROM SHELVES DUE TO ‘UNSPECIFIED CONTAMINATION.’” —THE STELLA RUNE GAZETTE
Among all the clucking and drifting feathers, her father’s words took several moments to sink in.
This marriage is over.
Nia’s brows knit together as she looked between her fuming father and Lochlan, his expression a mix of confusion and regret and—sadness.
She shuffled to her feet too quickly. The world tilted, her balance faltering. Lochlan reached out instinctively, his hand ready to catch her, but she grabbed the pole she’d been bound to and steadied herself. Straightening, she turned to her father.
His expression was no longer furious, but pale and worried in a way that twisted her heart.
For a moment, Nia almost laughed at the absurdity of it: Wulfric, the great and terrible Sword of the Goddess, frightened. The sight was so at odds with his fearsome reputation, she might’ve laughed, if she hadn’t been so angry.
“How dare you!” she snapped.
Wulfric blinked, taken aback. “Pyronia—”
“No,” she cut him off, her voice rising with every word. “You don’t get to do this. After everything—after the lies, after manipulating me, after forcing me into this marriage in the first place—you don’t get to decide when, or if, I will or won’t stay married. How dare you!”
Wulfric blinked, confused. “How dare he!” He pointed at Lochlan. “He failed to protect you. He doesn’t deserve you!”
Nia’s hands clenched into fists. “Deserve? How dare you talk about what I deserve.” Her voice rose with frustration, the words spilling out like the dam holding them back had finally broken.
“I deserve the truth! And you kept it from me. You told Lochlan to keep it from me. You let me believe you were a monster—believe you were the reason my mother died!”
“It was safer.” Wulfric said, stiffly. “A way for you to have the freedom you craved, without incurring the risk that being my daughter carried. The belief I was monstrous let you leave the identity that placed you in danger behind, allowed you to leave it with me.”
“But you let me hate you!” she continued, her voice breaking. “You could have told me the truth, instead you let me believe the worst.”
Wulfric ran a hand over his face.
“Losing your mother is a pain I carry every day,” he admitted, his voice rough.
“Losing you would end me.” His next words were slower, more careful.
“After she was taken from us—and you, still in her belly, were almost taken too—I realized the cost of the dream we’d built together.
And it was too much.” Wulfric shook his head, jaw tight.
“The world we wanted, a world where regulars and supernaturals could truly coexist? People weren’t ready.
They wouldn’t accept it. They would fight it.
And I couldn’t risk losing you to that fight, too.
So I let it go. And then, so that you could have the freedom you craved, I let you go. ”
He studied her face, his own composure cracking.
“But I watched you grow from afar. I saw the ways you shaped the world on your own, how you fought for those who had no voice.” He paused. “And I wondered—could you be the spark to finally ignite this change?”
The words caught Nia off guard. She swallowed hard, feeling them settle.
Perhaps she could be that spark.
She had built something—kindled in others the desire for the sorts of change she could see in Stella Rune and beyond. And though she might have to do things differently, she wouldn’t let that spark flicker out.
Perhaps she could build it, spread it, share it.
“I arranged your marriage thinking a prince of this kingdom—one who bridged that world and ours—would be the perfect partner to help you spread that spark.” Wulfric’s jaw tensed and his voice hardened. “And it may even be true. But you cannot remain married to Lochlan.”
Nia blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. “What?”
“He’s already failed to protect you once,” Wulfric said, his expression cold. “I will not hand my daughter over to someone who has proven he lacks the ability to protect her against the kind of attacks your future may hold.”
Nia’s stomach twisted with disbelief. “You think Lochlan is the problem? You think he’s the reason I was taken?”
“He should have been with you, should have prevented it from happening at all,” Wulfric snapped. His words were bitter as he added, softly: “A husband should protect his wife.”
Nia let out a sharp breath, anger flashing hot. “You think you made a mistake forcing me to marry the wrong person, so now you get to decide what happens to that marriage now? Again?”
Wulfric’s silence was answer enough.
Her hands curled into fists, shaking with frustration. “My future—our future—isn’t yours to control.”
She turned her back on Wulfric and stepped toward Lochlan, trembling as she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. Lochlan didn’t move. His expression was unreadable as she searched his face.
“I choose you,” she said, simply.
Lochlan’s lips parted slightly, his eyes wide as they searched hers—like he didn’t quite trust what he was hearing. So she made it as clear as she could.
“I want to be married to you.” She squeezed his hand. “Not because I have to, not because of some arrangement. Because I want to. Because…”
She swallowed, her heart pounding so hard she felt sure he could hear it.
“I love you.”
Lochlan’s breath hitched. His fingers twitched in hers, like he was afraid to hold on too tight, afraid she might take it back.
“I love the way you fight for me, even when I’m too stubborn to let you,” she continued. “I love the way you make me feel safe and seen.” Her voice faltered, and she took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”
Lochlan’s eyes met hers as he cupped her face gently, his fingers trembling against her skin.
“Nia, I—”
“I know,” she said, cutting him off with a small, tearful laugh, her hand covering his where it rested on her cheek.
“You’ve had me from the beginning.” Lochlan rested his forehead against hers. “You’ll have me always.”
The air between them felt charged as he pulled her to him.
“Ahem.” Wulfric cleared his throat, breaking the moment. Nia and Lochlan turned to find him standing stiffly, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His stern expression faltered slightly as his gaze flicked between them. He sighed. “Well…”
But before he could say more, a frazzled-looking witch stormed into the coop, a smattering of chickens flapping wildly as they fled from her path.
Leather pouches hung from her utility belt, vials and crystals jingling with every step.
Her hands settled on her hips as she eyed the room with suspicion, her dark gaze landing on each of them in turn.
Aurelia Shade.
The Eraser Witch of Stella Rune.
Wulfric stiffened, his expression wary. “Aurelia.” He tilted his head in acknowledgment.
“Wulfric,” she grumbled. “Do I have you to blame for yet another infringement?”
Wulfric’s jaw tightened, but his tone was respectful. “No… ma’am,” he said to the witch who was half his age, clearing his throat awkwardly. Nia wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her father look deferential before.
She bit back a laugh and turned to Lochlan, taking his hand and tugging him toward the exit, leaving Wulfric and his team to deal with Aurelia.
The air outside was cool and crisp, the country sky glittering with stars that seemed impossibly close.
The chaos of the coop faded behind them, replaced by the soft murmur of witches and soldiers dressed in dark tactical gear milling about.
Nia inhaled deeply, the fresh air filling her lungs as she tilted her face up to the sky and leaned against Lochlan’s chest.
“Take me home, husband,” she murmured, soft and sure.
Lochlan smiled down at her, his hand cupping the back of her head as he bent to kiss her, his words a quiet promise: “Yes, wife.”