Chapter 44
Reyla
The tower had never been more silent, nor more glorious than it was tonight.
Stone walls caught the silver glow of the moon and held it, while the floor shimmered with the remnants of Lore’s magic.
I spied petals, threads, beads of dew drifting like starfall.
I held his arm as we stepped into the center of the room, the pulse in his wrist thudding steadily beneath my fingertips.
Justifar stood waiting, dressed in a red and silver robe, her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes were bright with joy, and her gaze flicked between us like she was watching a miracle unfold.
“You’ve always made the fates work a little harder,” she said softly, looking at Lore with a knowing smile, then turning her warmth on me. “And you, Reyla. What a wonder you are. I thought I knew what devotion looked like. Then I watched the two of you try not to fall in love.”
My low laugh rang out. “We didn’t do a very good job.”
“No.” Her smile widened. “And thank the fates for that.”
She stepped closer and lifted her hands. The tower responded to her presence. Or maybe it responded to us. A low hum moved through the stone, like the castle itself held its breath.
“Long before walls were carved from cliffs and crowns were forged from starlight,” Justifar said, her voice threaded with quiet power, “the fates weave a path for every soul. Some are short. Some are cruel. And some, rare as a twin eclipse, are tangled so tightly with another that even time cannot separate them.”
Her eyes found mine. “Tonight, we honor a binding that was begun in duty, shaped in strife, and reforged in love. The fates do not preside over this bond. Only choice. The stars and moon above will bear witness.”
She turned to Lore.
“You, Lorick, King of Evergorne, have seen the fullness of this woman’s spirit. Her fire and fury, her strength and scars, her boundless heart. Will you walk with her, not only as ruler and consort, but as her equal for eternity?”
His low voice came out strong and sure. “I will. In this life, and every one the fates dare give me after.”
“And you, Reyla, Queen of Evergorne and scourge of cowards,” she said with a spark in her eyes, “have seen the truth beneath this man’s thorns. His burdened mind, his tempered power, his unguarded soul. Will you stand with him, not only as wife and sovereign, but as mirror and match?”
My throat burned. “I will. Always.”
Justifar eased back, letting her gaze sweep over us as the wind whispered through the open windows, lifting my veil with gentle fingers.
“Then let this ceremony seal what your hearts already knew. Not with flame, nor blade, but with threads that bind the unseen.”
She opened her hands, and between them, a flicker of starlight spun itself into a single silver thread. She passed it first to me.
“Reyla, weave your vow.”
I held the thread carefully and turned to Lore. My hands trembled as I looped it around his mating mark on his wrist, the magic warming beneath my fingertips.
“I promise to always see you as you are,” I said, each word carved from the ache in my chest. “To hold the man behind the mask, the boy who was left behind, the king who bears more than his share. I promise to speak truth even when it hurts, to fight beside you, to fall with you, but never to leave. Evermore.”
His eyes glistened.
Justifar passed him the other end. “Lorick, weave your vow.”
After gently sliding up the bracelet I still wore all the time, he looped the thread around my wrist over my mating mark, binding our hands with the single, glowing filament.
“I promise to always choose you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion.
“In darkness and daylight, in silence and in storm. I promise to protect the joy in your heart, the fury in your soul, and the wonder that made me believe true, undying love existed. I swear to be yours, not as king, but as Lore, with every scar, every shadow, every spark.”
The thread pulsed with light and melted into our skin, leaving no mark, only the weight of our promises.
Justifar glanced between us. “Then by the power vested in me by the realms of sea and sky,” she said with a flourish, her voice ringing in the room, “I hereby pronounce you, Reyla Jarrn Weldsbane Evergorne, and you, His Majesty, Lorick Thorne Damaris Shadowhart Evergorne wedded. May your bond be forged with unyielding strength and majestic grace. Step forward together as one, onto a path where hope and love may thrive.”
The air held still. Lore turned to me and offered his hand.
And I took it.
Justifar smiled at us with something close to pride, then bowed low. “I’ll leave you to your tower and your stars.” She turned to Lore. “Soon, my king, I’ll expect to hear more about that spell you promised.”
“You’ll have it,” he said, though his eyes never left mine.
With a final, joyful look, Justifar swept toward the open door, only to pause in the threshold and turn back. Her eyes went cloudy, and her voice wavered, singsong. “A long and prosperous life awaits you, Queen Reyla, and the child you now carry.”
I sucked in a breath. “Girl or boy?”
Lore’s arm tightened around my waist.
“That is yet to be seen. Remain strong.” The wind caught her hair, swirling it around her face, and when she spoke, her voice no longer belonged entirely to the present. “Three fragments, scattered like moonstones, await their reckoning.”
I stepped closer, my heart racing. This wasn't just ceremony anymore. The elder was seeing something vital about our future.
Her gaze remained locked on the floor. “None will yield to force. None will answer a hand that doubts. You seek a forge, but what you need is a mirror.”
She turned slightly, her gaze distant, as though watching something ripple through time. “It was never meant to be used as a weapon. Only when touched by what first broke it—grief, yes, but also love—will they remember what they were.”
Her soft gaze found mine. “What you need does not begin with fire. It begins with the wound. Pour yourself into it. Bind not them, but what they represent.”
As if the moment had never happened, she stepped into the dark corridor and was gone, leaving only the memory of the swish of her robe and the moonlight behind.
The door boomed closed behind her.
Silence stretched between us, but beneath the fear, beneath the uncertainty about curses and fragments, something else pulsed. Life. New life.
Her words echoed through the stone walls and into the hollow of my chest. The child you now carry.
Lore’s arm slid from my waist. His eyes, those wondrous green eyes, searched mine as if he needed to see the truth there. I gave a trembling nod. I hadn’t been sure, but now I was.
The words hung between us, transforming everything. Our future, our fight, our desperate race against time. I was carrying his child, and he might not live to see them born.
With a groan, he dropped to his knees.
He reached out, his large hands resting on either side of my still-flat belly, as if he was afraid he might shatter something delicate with too much pressure.
He leaned in and kissed where our child now grew in a soft, lingering vow.
His forehead followed, resting against me as his breath snagged in his throat.
“Our little star,” he whispered. “Born of hope where there was once only ruin.”
I swallowed hard, stroking my fingers through his hair.
He looked up, tears shining like silver at the edges of his lashes, and smiled in that quiet way he did when his heart was full beyond words.
“This child,” he said, “is proof that even in a doomed life, something precious can grow. A promise I may not live to keep, but one I will love until my last breath.”
A sob rose in my throat.
His hand slid up to grasp mine. “Whatever they become, daughter or son, they will carry the best of us. Your fire. My ruthless devotion. And the fierce, impossible love that made them.”
I sank to my knees with him, leaning into his chest, soaking in the fragile, fierce joy of this moment.
And I let myself believe we might still win.
I cradled his face in my hands, brushing the tear tracks on his cheeks with my thumbs.
Lore looked at me like I was his whole world.
I pressed my lips to his in a kiss that was soft, sure, and sealing.
Not desperate, but deep. A vow made flesh.
His arms curled around me, and I felt it, our future blooming in that quiet space between heartbeats.
When we parted, he kissed the tip of my nose and gave me the sweetest smile.
“You will live,” I said. “With everything inside me, I will make it happen.”
He nodded, no hint of shadows in his eyes, before he helped me rise.
“I didn’t think I could love you more than I did yesterday,” I said, gazing up at him. “And then today happened.”
Lore kissed my temple, my neck, the swell above my breasts. Lifting his head, he tilted my chin, our gazes meeting. His eyes held everything I’d ever need. Fierce, yet fragile beneath the iron.
“I have one more vow,” he said.
I nodded. “I do too.”
We stood facing one another, the silver veil still clinging to my shoulders, his hand at the small of my back.
“I vow to defy the end,” he said softly.
“To rage against it. But if the fates take me, then know this, Wildfire. I will not go quietly. I will spend my last breath loving you. I will carry your name into the dark and light every shadow with it. I’ll wait beyond the veil, and I’ll find you again. This I swear.”
Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. I didn’t wipe them away.
“I vow to remember,” I said, my voice breaking.
“To carry you with me in every step, every breath. If I lose you…” My swallow refused to go down.
“If I lose you, Lore, it won’t be the end.
I’ll find the threads you leave behind and pull them close.
I’ll keep you alive. I’ll burn kingdoms to cinders if it gives us one more chance. ”
“Queen of my heart, mother of my child, destroyer of worlds. There's nothing you could ask that I wouldn't give.” He pressed his palm against my chest as if he needed to feel my heartbeat to survive.
We said nothing at all. Just breathed. Together.
Under the moon, with the stars tangled in my veil and the wind whispering through the high windows, I kissed my husband again. And again. And again.
Not as a queen claiming her king but as a soul who had finally, finally found her mate.
I would not let go. Not of him, not of this moment, not of the fierce hope that burned in my chest alongside our child. Whatever came next, whatever trials the talismans would demand, we would face them together.
We had to.