Chapter 3 #2
There was only the relentless, suffocating darkness on the other side of the dome.
The sun hadn’t risen in over a month, and wouldn’t rise for that long again. The vitamin D supplements and full- spectrum lighting probably helped, but they weren’t sunshine . They weren’t warmth on her skin or light that didn’t come from artificial sources.
She caught herself staring at photos of Anchorage on her phone. Summer photos, golden light, mountains in the distance. The whales and seals on the boat trip. The birds.
But beneath the physical craving for sun was something darker, more insidious.
Fear.
Mordnik was a bubble. Contained, intense, separate from real life. The silo functioned like its own tiny world with its own rules, and within those walls, the triangle worked perfectly. They had roles here, routines, a structure that supported their dynamic.
But Anchorage would be different. No more feeding frenzies, or being trapped so close. There would be school, and the rabbits. Zander and Spence would have completely different jobs, running the coterie and the flock. And Zander owned a lot of businesses, which probably also took a lot of his time.
It would be the weight of a normal life in the real world pressing in from all sides.
What if the magic didn’t survive reality?
What if she got back to sunshine and space and freedom, and realized this intensity only worked in the dark?
She shook her head and refocused on her screen. The genetic markers swam before her eyes, and she forced herself to concentrate.
Stop borrowing trouble, she told herself firmly. Focus on what’s in front of you.
But the fear lingered, cold and persistent as the Arctic night.
Later in the day, Emmy was in the gym with Rhea and Felix when Toby burst in, grinning like a madman.
“Aurora activity forecast for New Year’s Eve,” he announced. “Like, serious activity. Best display of the season.”
Rhea paused mid-kick, her boot still raised en route to the heavy bag. “Oh. I bet Zander moves the ball to the dome.”
“Already confirmed,” Toby said. “Winter Court under the northern lights. It’s going to be spectacular .”
Emmy felt anticipation spike through her exhaustion. The Winter Court Ball promised yet another fantasy event — Faerie aesthetic, elaborate costumes, the kind of pageantry Zander excelled at orchestrating. And if they were moving it to the Aurora Ballroom…
How awesome would it be to ring in the New Year under a fantastical sky?
There was no ballgown for this ball. Not for the flock, anyway. She’d be wearing body glitter and wings — and nothing else. As a level-one, at least the wings would be attached with straps instead of a needle and thread.
However, that evening, Emmy found a garment bag hanging in their suite with a note in Zander’s elegant script: For my genius, beautiful dragon.
Inside was a silver-blue unitard that sparkled like captured starlight, the fabric so fine it would feel like wearing water. Strategic holes would bare her breasts and groin, the crotchless design both elegant and obscene.
But the real surprise came hours later, after a hairdresser had arrived to put long extensions in her hair, so she had thick, lovely, curled tresses trailing past her waist.
And then a makeup artist had put glittery makeup on her face, turning her into what people who’d never been to Faerie would think looked like a Faerie Queen.
When she was dressed and thought they were ready to go, Zander presented her with a large, velvet box.
And inside, a tiara.
Not costume jewelry. Large pearls surrounded by hundreds of real diamonds set in platinum, throwing myriad rainbows across the walls. Worth millions, easily. The kind of thing that lived in vaults and museums.
Emmy lifted it carefully, her hands shaking slightly.
Zander took it from her and carefully settled it on her head, and she suddenly understood why the hairdresser had been so specific about how her hair was fixed around her face.
“Queen Maud’s famous tiara,” Zander told her.
“White gold and platinum with eighteen large pearl drops, and three times as many small ones. There is no official count of the diamonds, but my unofficial one landed at four hundred and sixty-seven. It was made in 1896 for Princess Maud of Wales as a wedding gift, given to her by her parents, the Prince and Princess of Wales at the time, later known as King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra.”
Spence worked a few bobby pins in to hold it on, and Zander continued. “Princess Maud became Queen of Norway in 1905 and continued to wear the tiara, which was eventually stolen from Garrard in London in 1995 while the crown jewels were being cleaned, and I … acquired it shortly thereafter.”
He stepped back, looking at it with satisfaction.
“Back in 1995, the insurance papers valued it at just over three hundred thousand dollars. Today, it would easily be triple that, possibly a good bit more.” He leaned in and kissed her temple.
“You wear it better than the original owner, my darling dragon.”
The weight of it — both literal and metaphorical — made her throat tight. Not the fact he owned it, but that he’d flown it in for her to wear. That he trusted her with this information.
Spence looked concerned, and he asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She told him. “Just … processing.”
“He loves you. He wants you to be his ice queen tonight.”
Emmy laughed. “Oh, I’d never dare try to pull off trying to be either of my Faerie Godmothers, but still, I love the crown, even if I’m not a queen and don’t really want to be. I’ll be happy remaining a princess forever.”
She looked at her men and let herself feel all of the love and fear — the desperate hope that this would all somehow work when they left the safety of the silo.