Chapter Thirty-Four
THE NIGHT KING
Ours, the soul bond screams.
She is our sun—our star—our reason for living. Our happiness is her happiness.
And if that includes another, she is still ours to adore.
By the blood, I have never felt anything like this, my body struggling between killing every single soul that looks at my mate and destroying the world to give her everything she desires.
And I know she still wants the Oryndhrian king.
Still loves him. I can feel it through the bond, and the thought of losing her decimates me.
It’s my greatest fear come to life.
I shift, unable to control my emotions.
As the manticore, we run and run and run. We run until our muscles are shivering and we’re so exhausted that thinking is impossible. And then we sleep and do it all again. Run, hunt, sleep. Life exists simply by instinct.
When I eventually shift back and return to the palace, I recall the feel of her soul calling out to his, and his to hers.
And now that he has the light of Saru burning inside of him like a living, divine flame, there’s something there.
A bond. It’s frayed and worn and threadbare, but I can see it tethering them to each other.
Not a soul-fated union, but a union nonetheless.
All it needs is a little care.
“I can destroy it,” I whisper to myself.
“But will you?” a soft voice asks.
I turn to find Ve standing in my study, face wreathed in compassion, and I can’t find it in myself to send them away with my usual rancor. “No. I could never hurt her.”
“Even if she chooses someone else?” they prod.
I sigh. “Even so.”
“Love makes space for everyone,” Ve says sagely. “She won’t love you less because she also loves another. You’re a deity, you know this. You’ve seen all the wondrous shapes of the phenomenon of love in dozens of lifetimes.”
They’re not wrong. I do know this. Love is infinite, perfectly imperfect, and layered in its complexity. It might bring hardship and take sacrifice or work, but it never dies if nurtured. It endures through any storm. Love only fails if you give up on it.
“I saw that this path was written in her future,” Ve remarks. “But I could not see how it would come together. I suppose that’s up to you now.”
I shake my head. “It will always be up to her. Her choice. If she chooses him, it doesn’t change that my choice will forever be her in whatever capacity she will accept me.”
“And him?” the guardian of the Royal Stars asks, white eyes glittering like a nebula.
“If he loves her as she deserves, then he shall have my greatest esteem.”
Ve laughs. “That’s rather enlightened of you.”
“I am the son of a god, Ve,” I scoff. “If we aren’t more evolved than mortals, then the realms have a lot more to worry about than two people daring to love the same woman.”
“That is very true, Your Majesty. And what will you do about your sister? She craves the power to wield the touch of death.”
“Anahima has always been ambitious,” I say, though my heart aches at the thought of my sister hiding so much from me for so long. “And she has grown strong. I knew she felt cast aside as a child, but I never realized it had festered for so long.”
“The men in her life have always disappointed her,” Ve says. “Her father, her soul-fated. Even you, by taking the role she felt was hers by birth.”
“I would have gladly given it to her,” I burst out.
“I never wanted a crown. She was the one born to rule, not me.” A hitched breath leaves my lungs.
“This is my fault. I should have seen what she was going through. Even with Vogonis . . . I should have hunted that bastard down and killed him. I can’t even think of what such a betrayal would be like . . . the devastation.”
“She’s angry,” Ve says.
“And a threat to all of Endara.”
Ve frowns, eyes going vacant as though contemplating the different threads of the future. “Yes, she is a powerful sovran, and with your father’s stolen power, she is dangerous, with magic equal to the Starkeeper’s. You will need to complete the bond.”
“I am aware.” I exhale. “Either way, I suppose I will have to face him and end him.”
“Can you?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “Even the worst of us can be worthy of redemption. Sura taught me that.”
“Well said.” Ve props their long frame on the edge of a couch. “So back to the other thing. How’s this going to work with two royal swords in the mix? Sandwich style? Pyramid? Spit-roasted? Oh, she might enjoy that.”
I shoot them a mock glare with no heat in it. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Why, Darrius, I was so certain we were having a moment,” Ve says, and then winks wickedly. “Very well. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“Go,” I growl.
“Spoilsport.” Ve cackles. “Fine, I’m going . . .”