chapter thirty-nine
elysia
My hair floats on a gentle breeze as I lean over the rooftop’s stone railing, the night air brushing cool fingers across my cheeks.
Celestria glows in the distance like a field of captured stars, lanterns scattered across the streets in warm constellations, their light reflected off stone dusted with fresh snow.
The forests come alive at night; trees are threaded with luminescent vines that glow softly.
Forest plants and flowers shimmering in fluorescent hues of purples, pinks, blues and white.
In the open fields, faintly luminescent blooms glimmer through thin blankets of snow, some wilting under winter’s touch, others stubbornly alive, still burning with quiet colour.
Even as the cold settles in, the kingdom refuses to dim.
The moon hangs above it all, silver and solemn, her light kissing the ring on my finger, catching in tiny fractures of blue.
Familiar footsteps sound behind me, muted and unhurried. Then a hand splays at the small of my back. My soul recognises him before my mind does, a rush of warmth and something electric shivering up my spine. His lips press a soft kiss into my hair before he comes to stand beside me.
He leans over the railing, shoulders brushing mine as the moonlight paints him in quiet shades.
My head turns, and my eyes roam over him…
his jaw is dusted with stubble, lips still stained faintly with wine, dark hair tugged by the breeze.
The kingdom’s glow makes his mismatched eyes look softer somehow.
“I still can’t believe Thane proposed to Sirena,” I murmur, smiling to myself. “I’m so happy for them.”
Kaden huffs a quiet laugh, low and warm. “Took him long enough. He’s been an anxious mess for months. And gods, do not get me started on the ring. We were at the jewellers' for hours.”
“You helped him pick it out?” I ask, slightly amused by the idea.
“I don’t think she would’ve gotten one otherwise.” He shakes his head. “The man has terrible taste.”
A chuckle works up my throat. “Well, it was beautiful. It had Sirena written all over it.”
He nods in agreement, “ We went through every option in Celestria, and he changed the proposal plan six times.”
“Six?” I choke on a laugh.
He hums, “First, it was the gardens. Then at sunrise, during breakfast. Then, down by the beach during their nightly stroll. Then, he wanted to plan it during a starfall. At one point, he thought about doing it in the damn combat hall.”
I snort. “Romantic.”
“He was panicking.” A small shrug. “Said it had to be ‘as perfect as Sirena’… his words.”
Something warm curls in my chest. “That’s actually really sweet.”
“It was annoying,” he says flatly, but there’s affection underneath. “But… I’m happy for them.”
“Of course you are, you love them.” It’s more of an acknowledgement than a statement.
He nods, “Yeah… I do. They’re family, or the closest thing I’ve ever had to one, other than my mother.”
My heart aches slightly at the mention, grief simmering through the bond before he stamps it down.
I swallow, eyes soft. “What was she like… your mother?”
He takes a slow breath, eyes looking up to the stars as if he can see her in them.
“She was kind, too kind to have birthed someone like me,” He laughs, then continues.
“She used to paint… all the time. And she was good at it too, portraits, animals, but mainly constellations. Come to think of it, she’s probably where I get my knack for drawing from. ”
My eyebrows raise, “You draw?”
He smirks, “Sometimes, it’s one of the rare activities that helps me forget about the weight on my shoulders. I can simply just… be.”
His eyes stay pinned on the sky as I look up at him, “Can I see them?”
“My drawings?” He looks down, just slightly.
I nod once, slowly. “Yes.”
He runs a thumb over my jaw, achingly soft. “Hmm… maybe one day.”
“What else did she like?” I ask, placing a soft kiss on his thumb as it brushes my lower lip.
His hand drops to my waist, pulling me into him so he’s standing behind me. Both looking out at the glowing kingdom below us.
“She was obsessed with stories of Fae; our home was full of tomes dating back centuries.” A breath of amusement leaves him. “Every night, she’d read them with me by the fireplace. Same stories, same lines. She never got tired of them, and neither did I.”
“That’s why you weren’t afraid of me?” I breathe, leaning my head back against his chest as his arms tighten, chin resting on the top of my head.
“Maybe, but I think deep down I always knew you were something more. I could sense it, even before your power ran through my veins… I wasn’t afraid of your light because I’ve been unknowingly searching for it my whole life.
” He pauses, only a second. “I think somehow she knew I wasn’t meant to fear the extraordinary, that maybe I was born to meet it. ”
My heart stutters.
He places a soft kiss on the crown of my head, “And when I met you… It didn’t feel like something new. It felt like something I’d been waiting on for years.”
Understanding hums through the bond, warm and steady as I turn his words over in my mind.
He’s right.
Meeting him had felt like stepping into a place I somehow already knew.
A return rather than an introduction. Familiar in a way I refused to acknowledge back then… even as something in me recognised him instantly.
Even as some quiet, hidden part of me whispered home.
“Maybe we were always fated to soulbond after all.” I tease, recalling the summons I received seven months ago.
He chuckles against my hair, the sound vibrating down my spine and through my very soul.
“Maybe so.”
A few minutes pass as we stand in comfortable silence, gazing up at the stars.
The night wraps around us like a soft blanket, our breaths syncing without effort as contentment hums between us like a shared heartbeat. Then his voice cuts gently through the quiet, low and warm.
“Why did you stay out here?”
I shrug lightly, eyes still on the stars above. “I wanted a minute to myself… and it’s a full moon.”
A flicker of confusion brushes the bond.
“What, are you a werewolf too?”
Slight shock flickers across my face before amusement smothers it. Kaden Reinheart, the broody, moody and usually scowling warrior mage, just made a joke.
A chuckle works up my throat, and I shake my head.
“No, I’m not a werewolf, smartass. My mother and father…
they had this tradition. Every month, we’d go outside and dance under a full moon.
I wasn’t planning on dancing tonight or anything.
But standing out here, beneath the moon’s glow…
” I let out a small breath. “It makes me feel like I’m still connected to them. ”
He hums in thought, then steps back just enough to turn me gently by the waist, moonlight silvering the edges of his hair and softening the sharp lines of his face.
“Well then,” he murmurs, extending a hand and bowing just slightly. “In that case… may I have this dance?”
A breathy laugh escapes me. “You dance?”
“Absolutely not,” he deadpans, “But I will for you, Moonfire.”
My heart jumps, warmth spreading up my arm as I place my hand in his.
He draws me into him, one hand warm at my waist, the other enclosing mine. For a beat, we simply stand there, the night quiet around us. Then he moves.
It’s slow at first.
A gentle shift of weight.
A soft step to the side.
My heels click softly against the stone as he guides me backwards in a steady rhythm, falling into the waltz like we’ve done it a hundred times, though neither of us ever has. His body is fluid and certain, leading me with subtle pressure at my spine and the faintest tug of his fingertips.
Moonlight drapes over us in shimmering ribbons, catching on the silk of my dress as it swirls around my ankles with every turn. The breeze lifts my hair, curls flowing behind me as he turns me in a slow spiral, our joined hands gliding effortlessly through the air.
We circle each other like two halves of the same orbit, moving in perfect, unspoken harmony.
He takes a step back and holds me at arm’s length, our fingers linked, the world going still for a single heartbeat… then he tugs.
I spin, fabric swirling around my ankles like liquid before I land against him with a soft gasp. His arm sweeps around my waist, steady and sure, pulling me flush to his chest.
The brightest smile I’ve ever worn adorns my face, then my laughter spills out completely unguarded before I can stop it.
His heartbeat skips sharply, lighting up his chest with something warm and startled.
I feel it as surely as if it were my own.
“Gods, do that again,” he murmurs, voice low.
“What?” I breathe.
His thumb brushes my waist, “Smile.”
I never have, I realise. Not truly.
He’s seen smirks, polite facades, fragments of civility… but never this. Never something unguarded, pure and born of him.
So I smile at him, wide and honest, and the world seems to still.
His eyes light up, blue and green dancing with the moonlight, and I swear I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
“You’re utterly breathtaking.”
Before I can respond, he shifts his hand up the line of my spine, guiding me back. Our bodies move together again, slower now, a softer rhythm.
The moon hangs above us, vast and white and watchful, bathing us in silver. My hair flows behind me as he turns me beneath his arm… slow and reverent. When I come back to him, his hand finds my waist with certainty, his other tilting my chin up ever so slightly.
His head dips to mine.
My breath catches.
The world narrows to the space of our shared heartbeat.
Then he kisses me.
His hand cups the nape of my neck, the other anchoring me against him as I melt into his touch, heat and longing tangling between us.
He tastes of wine, and mint, and mine.
The moment our lips part, something shifts.
The moon’s glow deepens, spilling across the rooftop like liquid star-iron, and the shadows pull back as though bowing to it.
Then the sky exhales.
A single streak of blue cuts through the darkness.
Then another.
And another.
Until the night splits open.
A starfall unfurls overhead in a sweeping, impossibly elegant arc. Falling stars, dozens of them, then hundreds, cascading in a sweep that sets the sky ablaze. Their trails burn in shades of blue, white, and faint violet, painting our skin in shifting hues.
Kaden’s arm tightens around me, his breath catching against my cheek. “Gods,” he whispers, stunned. “I’ve never seen a starfall like this before.”
Neither have I.
Something warm unfurls inside me… a familiarity, a soft ache that feels like memory.
My eyes drift up to the moon, now luminous and heavy with light, and my voice slips out in a hush.
“When my mother and father used to dance with me … they’d sing this beautiful melody.”
Kaden looks down at me, mesmerised. “They sang to the moon?”
I nod, watching the sky paint itself in shifting blues.
“To the moon, to me… it was a lullaby. My mother always said the moon's light ran in my blood. That it would guide me when nothing else could.” A ghost of a smile curves my lips. “I used to think she was just being poetic.”
Kaden doesn’t speak for a moment; he simply studies me… really studies me.
Then he turns his gaze upward, voice low and unexpectedly tender. “Then… to the moon that guides you.”
“And the stars that see and listen,” I add.
“And to whatever cosmic madness decided to cross our paths tonight.”
He presses a kiss to my head as the starfall continues to unfold in luminous waves, slow and graceful, like the heavens are blessing something they don’t expect us to understand.
And we stand there beneath it all… held together by moonlight, starlight, and a moment that feels stitched into the fabric of fate.