Chapter 70
Chapter
Seventy
“ W here are we going?”
“I arranged a private dinner, but it isn’t ready yet,” Luther said. “Doriel found our horse and had our bags sent to Teller’s room so we can clean up.”
“How did you know I’d say no to dinner with Doriel?”
“Because I know my Queen.”
I frowned, unsure whether to swoon or be insulted.
We met up with Teller, who led us to a tall, corkscrew-shaped glass building, my dark mood temporarily forgotten as I gawked at the gravity-defying design. Inside the foyer, mortals and Descended sat on scattered couches, pouring drinks and discussing the day’s dramatic events.
Teller explained that most buildings in the city were communal, with residents assigned to ensure a diverse mix. Sophos citizens were expected to embrace a love of curiosity not just in their research, but also in their private time. To encourage this, each quarter within the city held nightly events featuring music, theater, and food where neighbors could mingle and learn something new.
I hated to admit it, but this place was beginning to grow on me.
Still, it was far from perfect. Though Descended could freely come and go, the city was closed to mortals except by invitation, and with mortals prohibited from the continent’s best schools, very few stood a chance at making the cut. Even in Sophos, classrooms were segregated to prevent mortal children from learning things the Crowns deemed “dangerous” for them to know.
As with any city, this place also had a seedy underbelly that its leaders refused to acknowledge. Teller admitted other mortals had warned him about venturing into dark alleys, where sex and drugs were on sale around the clock. For a mortal, losing their place here could mean losing everything—even their lives, if they had nowhere else safe to go. Many turned to mind-enhancing substances to keep up with their Descended colleagues, some ending up addicted and ruined in the process.
There was much to repair here, but also much to learn. I had to admit, the possibility of what it could become left me cautiously hopeful.
“I can’t believe you live here,” I said, wandering through Teller’s private suite. It was nearly as luxurious as the Lumnos palace and filled with futuristic contraptions. “Convincing you to come home will be harder than I thought.”
Teller groaned loudly. “Diem, I’m not—”
“We’ll discuss it after I’m coronated.”
“My feelings won’t change then.”
I shrugged. “We’ll see. I’m not letting you make a decision until you’ve talked to Mother.”
“Mother won’t change my mind, either.” He looked down, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m happy here.”
“Liar.”
He frowned. “I’m not lying. You see how great this place is.”
“It is, and maybe you could have been happy here... if you’d never met Lily.” Teller winced. I gave him a sympathetic look and laid a hand over his heart. “But you did, Tel. You love her. And now you’re scared of how that might end, so you’re running away.”
“A Bellator family trait,” Luther said under his breath.
Teller and I shot him matching scowls. He raised his hands in surrender.
“I’m not scared, D,” Teller said. “I’m just accepting the truth. I do love Lily, but she deserves more than I can give her.”
“She deserves to make that choice for herself,” I said.
Luther’s arm curled around my waist, hauling me away from my brother and up against his chest. “With all due respect, my Queen, let your brother be.”
“ Thank you ,” Teller grumbled.
I glowered and tried to shove Luther back, but his grip on me held firm.
He smiled warmly at my futile struggling. “When you truly love someone, you hold on and you never let go, no matter what stands in your way. If your brother isn’t willing to fight to hell and back to be with my sister, then he’s right—he doesn’t deserve her.” His mouth dropped to mine, silencing my protests in a passionate, possessive kiss.
Teller let out a heavy, despondent sigh, but when Luther’s hands began to roam across my curves, his nose wrinkled, his gloom turning to disgust. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
I moved to pull away, and Luther’s hand clutched the back of my head, holding me in place as he branded my mouth with his tongue. He kissed me like a man with a point to prove—both to Teller and to me.
Teller groaned and kicked our bag. “Here are your things. Please don’t defile my room too badly while I’m gone.”
The moment the door shut behind him, Luther let me go, licking his lips with a victorious grin.
I shoved him away. “You’re being an ass.”
“So is your brother.”
“His heart is broken. He didn’t need to see that.”
“I disagree.” He stalked toward me. “I think he needs to see exactly what it looks like when a man loves a woman unconditionally and won’t be torn away from her by any force, in life or in death.”
My thoughts emptied.
Those weren’t just any words.
Those were terrifyingly close to the promises Descended made at their mating ceremonies.
A promise to love, eternally and unconditionally. A promise to give your heart without reserve and be bound as one, in this life and the next.
His gleaming eyes confirmed it—the unspoken offer. After my warning to him that I might not ever want to take that step, he would never ask me outright.
But he could do this.
Let me know that his heart was ready and willing, in case mine ever was.
I desperately fumbled to hold on to my sour mood, working my face into a scowl I didn’t really feel.
“I’m going to wash up,” I mumbled.
I reached to grab our bag from the floor, and Luther stepped in my way. “You’re angry with me.”
“Of course I’m angry,” I said curtly. “You were gone today when I needed you.”
Liar , my conscience hissed.
Luther’s eyes narrowed like he didn’t believe me, either. He snatched the bag from my hand and tossed it aside, then took my hands and laid them on his face. “Show me what happened.”
The note of challenge in his voice prickled my prideful nature, daring me to say no and prove myself a coward.
True to form, my temper rose to the occasion.
I clenched my jaw and slammed my eyes shut. My memories opened to him in a winding river of Sophos and Umbros magics that let him relive every detail of the attack through my eyes and my emotions. I was so drunk on my stubbornness, I didn’t hold anything back, including the suffocating terror I’d felt at his disappearance—and the realizations the near-loss of him had awoken.
But as my deepest, rawest thoughts were exposed, I began to feel too vulnerable, too scared. I started to pull back, and he clutched my wrists to stop me.
“Your turn,” he said darkly. “Look.”
Before I fully knew what I was doing, I let myself get sucked back into the battle through his blue-grey eyes.
Blessed Kindred, she’s incredible.
I was paralyzed. Transfixed.
She wielded magic like someone who’d been training with it for years. She’d only had weeks with these abilities, in some cases days, yet she wove the Kindred’s gifts as if they were a single, seamless force.
True, there were signs of her inexperience. Her shapework needed refining, she was blowing through her energy reserves at far too fast a pace.
Still... even in this chaos, my Diem held her own.
And it wasn’t just her magic. She was a force to behold with her blade. Her strikes were precise, her footwork deft, her timing immaculate. Wherever Andrei Bellator was, I hoped he could see the warrior his daughter had become. Her only weakness was her temper, but in moments like these where she was calm and focused, she was unstoppable.
She didn’t flinch at the godstone blades sailing inches from her skin. I wasn’t sure she even noticed them. It made my heart a ragged mess to watch.
I longed to carry her far away to keep her safe. If I did, she’d hate me for it. I could live with being her villain, if it kept her alive.
But she’d also hate herself. She’d blame herself for every death, and that, I couldn’t bear. Even now, I could see her shift each hit, taking care never to land a killing blow.
She thought that made her weak. I wished I could make her see that it made her strong.
Damn, was she ever strong.
Too much had already been asked of her. Diem accepted each new burden with an eyeroll and a joke, but I saw the weight of it in her eyes. I felt her tremble beneath its heft when I held her in my arms.
But my Queen never crumbled.
My fearless, steadfast Queen.
It was as if she was born to do this.
Because she was , I reminded myself.
She might not share my trust in the Blessed Kindred, but watching her only strengthened my confidence in their judgment. Never had I been more certain that she was the one who would lead this world out of its shadows and into a new, glorious light.
If only I could make her have the same confidence in herself.
My mood soured. That lovesick little twit Stuart had showed up out of nowhere, ogling my Queen’s ass when she wasn’t looking, even in the middle of all-out war. I wondered how much Diem would scold me if I ripped out his eyes and saved them as a treat for Sorae.
He’d brought her godstone weapons to keep her safe, so I decided, grudgingly, to let him live.
She called my name, her voice sounding all wrong. When I called back, emotion flooded her smoky eyes and set my chest aching. She offered a blade to me, and I waved her off.
“Luther,” she said, scowling at me in that way I fucking loved. The one that made me want to wipe it off her face in the most inappropriate ways.
“Have faith, my Queen,” I teased. “I’ve got my eyes on a different blade.”
I turned my focus down the street—to the one-armed jackass who’d almost taken me from her side.
“Vance,” I growled. “You and I have unfinished business.”
The piece of shit had the nerve to smile at me. Ophiucae’s shield was making him too brave. He’d nearly soiled himself when I’d fought him in Arboros. If I hadn’t been carrying a half-unconscious Taran and fending off ten men at once, he never would have landed that blow.
“Dragonfyre,” someone shouted. “Take cover!”
My eyes went straight to Diem. My heart turned to thunder as I ran toward her—only to crash into a wall of ice. It thickened into a dome around me, trapping me in place. I slammed a burst of white-hot light against it, but Diem’s magic restored every drop I melted away.
I’d never met any other Descended whose power could match mine, but with her, it wasn’t even close. If my magic was a spark, hers was the gods-damned sun.
Most of the time, watching her unleash it was the most turned on I’d ever been, but when she used it like this—to protect me while putting herself at risk—that turned me into a version of myself even I was afraid of.
I screamed her name until my throat was raw as my fists slammed uselessly against the ice. The gryvern was nearly on her, and she hadn’t raised her shield. Did she think she was immune to the dragonfyre, too?
...Hell, was she?
There was so much about her power we still didn’t know. Her instincts were remarkable, but it would only take one mistake to lose her forever.
Blinding dragonfyre covered the street, and my heart raged at me for failing to get to her. It threatened to rip free from my chest and claw its way to her all on its own.
I couldn’t see her, but I could sense her. Her magic forever called out to mine. I gripped onto that feeling of her to tether my sanity as my magic exploded at its full strength.
I heard the cry of a wounded gryvern just as the icy dome finally shattered. Diem was drenched in red, her sword held high above her head as she snarled like a feral beast. Her skin shimmered as bright as her sire’s, mixing with the blood to cast her in a crimson halo. As she watched the gryvern flee, her lovely face was alight with rebellious triumph.
She looked... stunning. Lethal. Unconquerable.
A goddess of war.
Darkness eternal and the brightest light.
She looked like a Queen. My Queen.
Instantly, my cock was hard and ready. Forcing myself to wait—especially knowing she wanted me, too—had turned my desire for her into an insatiable monster. My baser instincts roared to strip her down and sink between her legs right here on the street.
But she deserved better than a rough, greedy fuck. She deserved to be worshipped.
I’d make sure she got both.
Tonight.
My focus landed on Vance just as he vanished down a side road. I glanced back at Diem—she looked calm. Determined. She was addressing Doriel with a commanding tone that had even the Sophos Crown nodding in submission.
I threw out shadows to suffocate scattered fires the dragonfyre had left behind, then took off in pursuit of Vance. However, the deeper I followed him into the back roads, the more it grated on me to let Diem fall so far out of my sight. There was little I feared more than not being there if she needed me.
That fear had corrupted me while I was dying from the godstone. My anger at the Kindred for taking me from her, my guilt at failing her like I’d failed my mother, my terror that Diem might sacrifice herself for me when my life was already forfeit—it had all taken its toll, and in turn, I had taken it out on Diem, Taran, and Alixe. I still had a long way to go to make things right with all three of them.
I was about to turn back when I caught a glimpse of Vance darting into a brightly colored building. I edged closer, and my stomach dropped.
A school. One for young children, judging by the toys and large print alphabets visible through the windows.
I staggered forward a step as a powerful aura slammed into my back. I recognized its malicious presence as Diem’s sire. If I could feel him this strongly, he must have landed—which meant my Queen could be in danger.
I glared over my shoulder, wrestling with indecision. There was nothing I could offer against Ophiucae that Diem couldn’t do herself. Though my blood boiled to admit it, I knew it was true.
And if Vance set his sights on children...
Diem would rather die than let that happen. So would I.
I snarled in frustration and burst through the schoolhouse doors. Vance had left behind dirty footprints that led me to a darkened back room. I threw up an orb of light to illuminate the shadows and found him holding a sword— my sword—against a teacher’s neck as toddlers cowered, weeping, behind him.
“Hiding from battle to target children?” I sneered, disgusted.
“Kinder to kill them than let them grow up to be like you,” he bit back.
“And what about that teacher?”
“What about her?”
“Did you bother looking at her eyes?”
Vance glanced at the woman—who, impressively, was spitting mad and not the least bit scared despite the blade at her throat. He swore as he noticed her oak-brown eyes.
“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “Mortals who help Descended are traitors.”
My eyes ticked down to the ten-pointed star glowing on his wrist. “You’re killing mortals to help a Descended. I guess that makes you a traitor, too.”
His face turned an angry, flustered red. He glanced at my hip. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“The Kindred had other plans. Why don’t you let her go and come outside, and we’ll find out if you can finish what you started.”
Vance hissed a nasty laugh. “Oh, I’ll finish you alright.” He jerked the woman. “As soon as I finish her and these little Descended bra—”
His venom went silent as the shimmering barrier around him flickered and fell. His eyes bulged large.
Before I could strike, the woman rammed her fist into his groin. He doubled over, wheezing in pain, my sword dropping from his hand.
The children whimpered and shook, so I pulled a shadow across their eyes to block their view—I could sense where this was going.
The woman picked up my sword, then grabbed Vance by the ear, twisting it sharply. He yelped as she dragged him out, and I followed her to the street.
She shoved Vance to his knees. “How dare you attack little children?” she shouted, unleashing her rage in a flurry of kicks and slaps.
Vance curled into a ball. “Stop! They’re Descended, they deserve to—ow! Stop hitting me!”
I leaned back against the schoolhouse wall and crossed my arms, unable to hide my smile.
As Vance tried to clamber to his feet, she swung my sword at his leg. Her clunky form proved she was no trained fighter, but the blade was sharp and it got the job done. Vance howled as it sank through his flesh.
“Who cares what their blood is, you spineless coward,” she barked. “You’re as evil a person as any Descended could be.”
He reached up to grab her, and I flicked a finger to bind his arm with cords of light. She took advantage, jabbing him repeatedly while he flailed in pain on the ground.
“My Diem would like you,” I told her. I cringed as her heel stomped between Vance’s legs. Repeatedly. “She’d like you a lot .”
She wiped the sweat from her forehead and offered me the sword. “You’ll handle him from here?”
“Happily,” I answered.
I took my blade, feeling a sense of victory as it finally returned to my grip. I’d never cared much for the Sword of Corbois—the day King Ulther passed it to me, appointing me as the future head of House Corbois, whatever small fondness my father had for me came to an end.
And, secretly, I agreed with Diem. It was embarrassingly gaudy.
But every now and then, I caught her staring sadly at my shoulder where its hilt used to rise. I missed the light in her eyes when she teased me for it. If wearing this tacky sword would win that back, it was worth any cost.
My eyes snapped up. A column of light and shadow rose into the sky. There were other Lumnos Descended here, but I knew on some primal level that this magic belonged to her —and it was meant for me .
I wrapped Vance into a cocoon of shadow vines and dragged him behind me. I would have preferred to kill him—ideally in a slow, exceedingly painful way—but my Queen wouldn’t want that. I already knew she would set him free. There was no heart so dark that she didn’t believe she could bring it back into the light.
I dreaded what this war might do to her capacity for hope. So I would do everything I could to nurture it, even if it meant sparing the life of a scumbag like Vance that my own dark heart would happily kill.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked.
“To my Queen. You can beg her for mercy.”
“I’m not begging that cunt for a damn th—”
His words were interrupted by my fist smashing into his face. Selfishly, I allowed myself a few more blows, savoring the crunch of his bones beneath my knuckles and the spray of his blood on my skin.
Damn, that felt good.
“Insult her again, and even my Queen’s orders won’t be enough to keep me from ending you.” I smacked a patch of shadow magic over his mouth to cover his gurgling response. The only way he was making it back to Diem alive was if he didn’t utter another word.
I swung back to the street to resume my return.
My Queen needed me.
And I would always answer her call.
I gasped, jerking from Luther’s grasp and stumbling backward until my back pressed against the wall.
“You still think I abandoned you today?” The hurt my words had left behind darkened his tone.
I shook my head, unable to speak. I knew he loved me, but to feel firsthand the strength of his devotion and the depth of his respect...
And he’d been right about it all—how I would have felt, what I would have wanted. The whole time, he’d been exactly where I needed him to be.
As he always had been. As he always would be.
He prowled toward me. “Be angry all you want, Diem. Ignore me. Shove me away. Give me your worst. I’ll take it. In fact, I like it. You’re fucking gorgeous when you’re pissed as hell. But if you’re going to punish me, at least admit the real reason why.”
I closed my eyes, unable to bear being so inescapably seen, so entirely known.
“I thought I’d lost you again ,” I whispered weakly. “I’m so sick of being scared, Luther. Sometimes it feels like the Kindred are taking the one thing that brings me joy and dangling it over a cliff, waiting to see how many times they can pretend to drop you before I throw myself over just to make it stop.”
“If they drop me, I’ll just grow wings and fly .” He took my hand and raised it to my chest, then pressed something metallic into my palm—the pendant he’d given me, etched with the sigil of House Corbois. “I’m a phoenix, remember? I’ll rise again and again. As many times as it takes to get back to your side.”
My fist squeezed around the golden disc. The spark of his magic imbued inside it pulsed warm against my skin.
“Besides...” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve seen you eat chocolate. I am far from the one thing that brings you joy.”
An unexpected laugh cracked out of me. He tipped my chin up and met me with a smile.
“Can I show you something else?” he asked. “Not with magic.” He took my hips, spinning me around and nudging me across the room. “You saw how incredible you are through my eyes. Now I want you to see it through yours.”
He led me to an enormous mirror, my reflection on full display. My skin was caked with dried blood, my hair windblown and wild. A dark, commanding glow illuminated my eyes. Food along the road had been scarce, making my bones more prominent and my features more sharply defined.
I looked older. More serious. World-weary and jaded from all I’d seen.
I looked so tired—the kind of tired sleep alone couldn’t fix.
But I also looked strong.
The last time I’d closely studied my full reflection had been the morning before the Challenging. That girl had been terrified and small. She’d put on a brave face, but she’d felt unworthy of the Crown on her head and incapable of fulfilling the destiny that came with it.
But the woman staring back at me now... she’d seen things. She’d made enemies and allies, survived battles and bloodshed and near-certain death. She’d learned to wield both her magic and her Crowns. She’d confronted Kings and Queens and bargained with the gods.
She’d fallen in love. Hopelessly, madly in love.
And she’d stopped denying who and what she was. Perhaps nothing had done more to strengthen her than that.
This woman was a survivor. She could fight. She could endure.
And she could win a war.
I still couldn’t say I wanted my Crowns, but after meeting so many of the others and seeing how deeply they’d let down their people, I no longer felt unworthy. I felt inspired to prove what a Crown could be.
“Do you see her?” Luther asked. “The woman I love?”
My chin tipped up.
“I think I finally do.”