Chapter 33
Aheavy fog clung to the canopy, the air thick with heated moisture, as we sank deeper into the ancient Es? Forest. Between trunks wide enough to encompass an entire manor in the lake country, bridges hung, people crossing them without so much as a glance down at the travelers below.
In the midst of summer, color painted the area. Blooming flowers in every shade, vibrant birds perched on low-hanging branches, tapestries hung over doors in the huts both on the ground and built into the boughs of the ancient giants.
It was a paradise. But beauty like this always promised something rotten beneath.
The wrongness slammed into my bones, a cold pressure building from the inside out, with each turn of the wheel toward our destination.
Thalvireth Palace emerged from the mist, the white marble entrenching the largest tree I’d ever seen.
Figures climbed its trunk—Angels locked in holy battles, their mouths frozen in wood and tangled among carved beasts.
A story of sanctity and sacrifice, of honor and glory and unnecessary violence.
I craned my neck to sear the sight into my memory. To remind myself what awaited me here.
Only once the muscles protested did I lower my gaze toward my prison. Every inch of me screamed to run, that I shouldn’t be here. The silver gates watched like rows of fangs waiting to snap closed and seal my fate. The palace’s three stories were barely visible behind them for how tall they loomed.
To my left and right, a white wall stretched, and with the thick forest swallowing the stones, it was impossible to determine the exact size of the complex.
Sentries stepped into our path, forcing me to focus on them instead of the world seeming to close in around me.
“Vaeron, head of House R?viel, and Maelsar of House Caerelith request entry,” my mate called out. “We have with us a new Seer.”
“Ah, Her Radiance has been awaiting you. She’ll greet you in the rose garden,” the leader said, and the twist of his lips had unease raising the hairs on the back of my neck.
My mate’s shoulders, already straight and held with noble refinement, tensed. “As she wishes.”
The soldiers stepped aside, framing the road as we continued onward. I stole a glance at them as we passed, noting the gleam of their polished opaline armor. A sign of their purity and commitment to the Goddess.
My mate only wore midnight—a deep, defiant color. He’d even dressed me in the same, though it wasn’t nearly as dark. Seeing it contrasted here, him a shadow in a city of light, only reinforced that he was the ultimate predator in the Angel Realm.
Heavy metal gates swung open, revealing a lush garden. A pebbled path veered to the left, and Vaeron directed the cart along it. Ilae swooped down and landed beside my mate, clicking a series of notes. Then, he headbutted his master and flew away.
“Are you certain she doesn’t know?” he murmured to Maelsar, who perched beside him in the driver’s seat. He was my mate’s second-in-command, I’d learned after he’d held me in place so Vaeron could stick his fingers in my throat.
The warrior had joined us on the final day of our journey, the two of them speaking in low tones late into the night, their words the background to my nightmares of being caged in this palace and forced to See.
Nerves fluttered in my belly.
Was Vaeron asking Maelsar if his sister was aware of our bond already?
If she didn’t, would he reveal that we were mated immediately upon our arrival?
Fine fabric bunched in my fists. No matter how Vaeron had dressed me, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being an animal led to slaughter.
The skirt covered my bound knee, hiding the worst of my injury, but a slip of fabric wasn’t enough to actually help me walk again.
I still needed the crutches to maneuver.
And I hated that I would appear before the Korona looking like a helpless lamb.
Worry didn’t have long to worm into my mind. The divine scent of roses flooded my nostrils, so floral, so fresh, that I wanted to bury myself among it and lie for hours.
The wagon slowed to a crawl, then halted altogether. My mate wasted no time in leaping from the driver’s seat and rounding to the rear. He tugged the latches to the lip in tandem, dropping it with a thud. Vaeron held his hand out to me, so steady when my entire body quaked.
“Breathe,” he spoke into my mind. That one word anchored me in the storm of my anxiety. I dragged in a lungful of humid air, then exhaled it slowly.
Hands on my waist, he lowered me to the ground. The place we touched seared, and the heat of his palms lingered even after he released me to grab the crutches.
My mate cradled my gaze as I secured them beneath my arms. Anguish twisted his lips, and he parted them like he wanted to say something.
A moment passed, then another. He sighed through his nostrils, jaw tightening, and forced his focus elsewhere. The mate who had kissed me languidly before we rose from bed that morning disappeared with a roll of his shoulders.
In his stead, the Issaraeth appeared. Cold. Calculating. Cruel.
Yet through our connection, I sensed the maw of rage opening. A protective, beastly anger that froze the air in my lungs. Because his face was smooth as glass otherwise.
I opened my mouth to ask him about the shift, but before I got the chance, his hand found my lower back, a light pressure guiding me forward.
The loose rocks beneath my feet made for slow going, but I managed not to slip as we approached the horses.
Beyond them, a line of elegant, well-dressed males and females waited.
From the nobles, a specter decended—a waiflike Angel, her hair the color of the mist that covered the forest, curled and falling to her waist. Atop her brow rested a crown of silver, glittering with diamonds so large I couldn’t have held them in my closed fist. Blue gems dripped from a collar around her throat, and the silk dress whispered over the ground as she stepped away from the soldiers that flanked her.
Somehow, she was far more terrifying than the group of them.
She stretched her arms out wide, flashing bracelets and rings, as she strode toward her brother.
“Vaeron, so glad you returned in one piece.” Yet despite the kindness of her words, sharpness edged them.
He left my side without hesitation, leaving the space beside me achingly empty.
The Issaraeth approached his sister, dropping to his knees and flattening his palms over his heart.
“Korona, I have completed the mission you requested of me. The most powerful Seers in the realm now rest under your watchful care.”
So formal.
So distant.
Iaoth’s attention dragged from Vaeron to me. A slow, sinister smile bloomed on her lips, devouring her beauty and peeling open the madness beneath. There was nothing inviting about the ice-blue in her eyes. Nor did I think her capable of such warmth.
I dropped my head, unable to dip into a curtsey as was proper to greet a noble.
“Rise,” the Korona purred, and I lifted my gaze. The Issaraeth straightened to his full height, a head taller than his sister. And yet, she was the most intimidating figure in this garden.
None of the gathered nobles seemed anything more than bored with the proceedings. But beneath their air of indifference, the weight of their judgement sank claws into my shoulders.
I nearly jumped, nerves strung tight, as Maelsar appeared at my side, claiming Vaeron’s place in ferrying me to the Korona. She watched with rapt interest as I hobbled forward, the intensity of her stare like teeth tearing away my flesh while I was still alive.
My fingers locked over the handles of wood, and I was grateful to have something to anchor me.
“This is Sylaira. The Goddess blessed her with the power of Sight,” Vaeron introduced me. But he said nothing more.
So no to revealing our bond right away.
Relief washed through me.
“So powerful,” she trilled, raking her regard from my silvery hair to the boots hidden beneath my skirt and back. “I cannot wait to hear all the futures you reveal.”
I said nothing. Because if I opened my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to hold back my opinion.
“But you are injured?” She turned her attention to her brother—finally. “She is injured?”
“Broken kneecap due to an…incident during her capture,” he explained. His tone was perfectly neutral and entirely formal. The male I’d shared a bed with was gone, the weapon he’d spent centuries honing standing in his stead.
The way he’d shifted roles so seamlessly pricked suspicion in the back of my mind. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.
“Well she won’t be needing to move much anyway.”
The silence after her words was brutal, and not a single person surrounding me flinched.
I stuck my tongue into my cheek, trying to remain calm when every muscle was primed like a jaguar waited in the trees above, ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey.
Vaeron remained silent. The Korona snapped her fingers without looking away from him. From the line, a female stepped forward. Stark white hair, aquamarine irises, and curves accentuated by a dress cinched at the waist, she walked with a sultry sway of her hips directly toward us.
She was stunning—painfully, unfairly so. The kind of beauty painters and sculptors begged to capture.
“It is a good thing you arrived when you did. You were almost late for your vows, brother. Koron Stadiel would not have stood for it.”
Vows?
The word echoed through my mind like a tolling temple bell.
The female stopped beside the Korona, a practiced, alluring grin emerging. Beside Iaoth, she didn’t just shine—she eclipsed. “Vaeron. You didn’t write. I was beginning to think you didn’t care.”
“Dasha,” he replied, her name tense in his mouth. So unlike when he spoke the shape of mine.
A vicious gleam appeared in his sister’s eye. “Come on, Vaeron, that is no way to greet your betrothed after months apart.”