Chapter 18
DIEM
Iwas almost to the palace doors when I saw my mother running toward me. “You’re back,” she cried. “You’re safe. You—you . . .”
She barreled into me, wrapping me up in her arms. For a moment, I was a little girl in the refuge of a mother’s embrace, certain that she would save me from whatever monsters lurked in the dark.
The comfort was fleeting. The moment her body hit mine, she went stiff, and so did I.
She held me at arm’s length and scowled down at my shadowy cloak as if she could see what lay beneath. “Diem, you’re far too thin.”
I laughed despite myself, though it came out harsh and angry. “I guess I missed the island’s buffet.”
She frowned. “Couldn’t you hunt?”
“Hard to do without a knife.”
“What about fish? And there were crabs beneath the piers—”
“I didn’t know how close I could get to the water without the spell killing me. Wasn’t worth the risk to test it.”
She blinked. “What about plants?”
“Not many in season in winter.”
“There was plenty of waterweed. It would have worked as a last resort.”
“Most days, it was my only resort.”
Her eyes left my body and honed their scrutiny on my face. With every feature she took in, her frown curved deeper.
I backed out of her grasp. On the island, the knowledge that my mother had once been trapped there had been a source of comfort. It had made me feel closer to her to share that unlikely path.
Now, I was faced with the blunt reality that our experiences hadn’t been that similar after all. She’d gone in stocked with weapons and supplies. She’d had shelter, warmth, the ripe summer months, access to the sea, even another person to keep her company.
I’d had . . . me.
The loneliness that haunted me on Coeur?le suddenly felt like it had followed me home.
“You’re here now,” she said gently. “We’ll get you some food. You’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Normal.
I laughed again.
“You found her,” Luther said, jogging to join us.
My mother beamed. “Luther, thank the Undying Fire, she’s finally home.”
He glanced between us, eyes lingering on me. “Everything alright?”
“The Ignios King told us he killed you,” my mother cut in. “That lying bastard.”
“He probably thought it was true,” I admitted. “He stabbed me in the heart. I’m still not sure how I survived it.”
Both of their eyes dropped to my chest, narrowing with curiosity. I shrank at the attention, feeling suddenly exposed.
My mother’s focus abruptly shifted to Luther. “What happened with Ophiucae?”
They launched into conversation, Luther recounting what happened, my mother grilling him for every detail.
They spoke so freely, trading words with an ease entirely lacking the cold distrust they’d shared last time we’d been together.
There was an undercurrent of hierarchy, with my mother curiously holding the upper hand, but they were comfortable.
Not like friends. More like family.
Luther’s hand found the small of my back as he talked. I wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch, but my mother’s shrewd, all-seeing eyes had left me rattled. I wrapped my hands around myself and pulled away. Luther looked down at me, frowning.
My mother glanced over my shoulder. “Why are the townsfolk here?”
“The Crowns imprisoned them during our meeting,” Luther said crossly.
Our meeting?
She sighed. “I better speak with them now before they all go join Ophiucae out of spite. Would you get my daughter some food?” She started to walk away. “Something hearty.” She called back over her shoulder. “No chocolate!”
Luther turned to me, and I to him. The foot of distance between us felt as awkward as the silence.
“Would you like some food?” he asked.
I shook my head. I was hungry, but I’d been hungry for weeks. It had long ago lost its urgency.
He smirked. “Would you like some chocolate?”
“Maybe later.”
He scoured my face, but unlike my mother, I had the sense he was looking for the changes that weren’t so visible on the surface.
I gripped myself tighter. “Luther . . . where were you?”
The question came out too much like an accusation. Luther’s features twitched with the faintest flinch.
“I took your brother to the Guardians in Montios. I thought you’d want him to be with your mother.” He paused, still searching my face. “I decided to stay there, too. I didn’t want to leave them, with Ophiucae so nearby.”
“The Guardians let you in?”
“Your mother told them she’d initiated me into the Lumnos cell. She claimed I’d been working for her in secret for years.”
It wasn’t that far off from the truth, but it shocked me. When I’d asked her to speak in his favor to the prisoners in Fortos, she could barely manage a word. Now she was lying on his behalf?
“At least she’s using her deception for something good,” I said, a little bitterly.
He hesitated. “Auralie knows she’s made mistakes. She’s trying to make up for them.”
I stared at him. He was defending her? What in the glaciers of hell had happened while I was gone?
“We moved the Montios Guardians to Arboros, and Auralie put out a call to all rebels to join us,” he said. “We were certain the Crowns were going to realize they needed you and let you go. I wanted to have an army ready for you when they did.”
“And the Guardians were willing to be that army?”
Again, he hesitated. He looked north, to a large campsite near the edge of the royal grounds. The mass of tents and rising smoke from the campfires took me right back to my days as the rebels’ hostage.
First, their prisoner. Now, their leader?
“For the moment, their loyalty is with Auralie. She told them your cause is worth joining.” His gaze returned to me, bright with hope. “Once they get to know you, Diem, once they see who you are . . .”
He closed the distance between us, his broad hands curving beneath my jaw. His palms were rougher than I remembered, covered with the callouses of labor, not the leisure of a Prince.
The feel of his skin on mine was ecstasy.
The mating bond purred with a delicious sense of rightness, the mark on my chest burning hot beneath my cloak.
Every nerve ending sparked with need for his touch, his kiss, his body, his love—and above all else, a frenzied desire to see a mating mark on his skin.
His forehead pressed against mine. The warmth of his breath on my lips had my knees ready to fold. Gods, this was something more than lust. More even than love. The mating magic had placed a vital piece of me inside him, so that only with him could I ever feel whole.
This was exactly what had always made me fear commitment. I used to look at people like this and mock them, even pity them. I’d wondered: If I give my heart away, I’ll lose who I am forever. Surely I’ll live to regret it.
But I hadn’t lost myself at all. I’d found exactly where I was meant to be. And with his hands on my face and his lips a breath from mine, I felt more me than I had in weeks.
“I thought of you every second,” he whispered. “When I slept, I dreamed of you. When I woke, I saw your face in the clouds. There was not a single moment that I was not thinking of the day I could hold you again.”
My hands rose to his chest, fisting in his tunic. I searched in vain for words to do justice to the agony of how much I’d missed him.
“I thought of every possible way I could get to you,” he said. “I would have gone realm to realm and slaughtered every Crown myself, but I feared that might seal you there forever. And your family . . . if I left them, and something happened—”
“I’m glad you stayed with them,” I managed to get out. “They’re safe. And you’re safe.” My hands slid to his neck. His throat rumbled as my thumb grazed the line of his scar. “That means everything to me.”
Our bodies pressed closer, our hammering heartbeats thumping in time.
“I tried to see you.” His lips brushed mine with his smile. “I knew you’d scold me for it, but I didn’t think I’d survive one more day without you, so I came to the island.”
“I know. I saw you.”
He went still. “You did?”
I nodded. “I was hiding in the grass.”
“Why didn’t you come out?”
Because I looked weak and dirty and pathetic, and if I never made it out alive, I didn’t want you to remember me that way.
Because one word, and I would have run to you, and I wouldn’t have cared if it killed me.
Because I lost my mind on that island, and I’m afraid I’ll never get it back.
The sounds of footsteps and chattering arose behind me, and a distinct, beloved voice: “D, is that you?”
I swiveled around to see my brother standing on the palace steps with a group of young Corbois—including, to my great relief, Eleanor and Lily.
“Diem!” the women shrieked in unison, smiles bursting across their faces. The three of them came running toward me.
My body seized up. The thought of them hugging me, prodding me, seeing what I’d become . . .
Luther stepped back, but I found myself clinging against him, tucking my shoulder behind his like a human shield. He glanced down at me, brows low.
My brother reached us first, grinning and opening his arms to wrap me in a hug. Luther edged further in front of me, and Teller lurched to a stop. Luther gave a slight shake of his head. Teller’s smile disappeared.
Guilt and embarrassment gnawed away at me. I forced a lopsided smile to ease the alarm growing on my brother’s face. “How much trouble did you get into while I was gone?”
“You’re the troublemaker in the family,” he said. “I’m the obedient one, remember? Always do what I’m told.” There was a bite to his voice that was wholly unlike my sweet, easygoing brother. His eyes rose above my head. “Nice Crown.”
Mine dropped to his chin. “Nice, uh . . .” My head cocked. “ . . . would we call that a beard? Maybe a goatee in training. A mustache with a dream . . .”
His cheeks flushed, but his grin returned in earnest. “I see you didn’t lose your sense of humor.”
My smile strained. I felt like I had. This was more like playing a part—being the old Diem I knew they wanted to see.