3. Choice
CHOICE
ELYRIA
The sky was already darkening by the time Elyria found him, the morning star piercing through the sunset-colored sky as she flew.
After a full day spent calling on his sister and his mother and the steward and his valet and, evidently, every other stars-damned person on the Ravenswing estate, Evander had finally emerged from their private family quarters and deigned to leave the manor.
Elyria had wasted no time going after him. Thankfully, she knew exactly where to look.
Wings fluttering behind her, Elyria soared past the gardens, over the estate walls, and out of the city. She flew until she heard the familiar gentle breaking of waves against rock. The tide was getting low, water whispering against the stony shore below, filling the air with salt and spray.
Evander paced along the edge of the cliffs, arms crossed over his chest. His black curls were windswept, his noble tunic rumpled from the long day of meetings, his black-and-gold wings folded tight on his back.
Elyria did not slow as she approached, touching down behind him with enough force to shake the ground. She’d rehearsed what she had planned to say on the way, how she would chew him out for holing himself up all day, for keeping her waiting, for leaving her in the dark.
Only, when Evander turned to face her, he had that look about him.
Elyria knew it well. It was the one he got when he was thinking too hard, turning a decision over in his mind a thousand different ways.
The irony was that, despite all his agonizing, he would inevitably settle back on whatever he’d decided in the first place, his gut instinct almost always the correct one.
Though . . . there was a little something different about his look this time. Something softer, fuzzier—a kind of sadness that had settled into the crease of his brow, the firm press of his lips.
The fight fizzled right out of Elyria.
She wasn’t about to let him know that, though.
She tapped her foot in a melodramatic display. “Well?”
Evander’s golden eyes flickered with something almost like amusement, though it was gone too quickly to be sure. “Well, what?”
“Now’s really not the time to play games with me, Ev.”
“Oh, but I love playing with you, Elle.”
Elyria let out a dry laugh. “Nice try. I’m waiting for an explanation of why you’ve been avoiding me all day.”
He smiled—and there was that sadness again. “Hard though it may be to believe, not everything is about you, my love.”
“Mmm, you’re right,” she said. “I do find that hard to believe.”
At that, he laughed, and enough tension eased from Elyria’s shoulders for her to fold her wings down before stepping closer to him.
“Especially,” she said, reaching out to bop him playfully on the nose with her index finger, “when all I get to hear the livelong day are whispers of some big announcement of yours, and the last thought Kit planted in my head was so outlandish I knew I needed to hear it contradicted.”
A sly smile crept over his beautiful mouth at that. “Oh? Do share this outlandish thought.”
“Your sister seemed convinced you were summoning her to either prepare for war or prepare for a proposal.” She barked a laugh. “Not sure which is more outrageous.”
“Would it be?” he asked, his smile faltering.
Unease slithered in Elyria’s gut. “Would what be?”
“Truly so outrageous, were I to propose?”
“Is that what this is?” She gestured widely to the surrounding cliffs just as the wind picked up, whipping her periwinkle hair around her face. “Very romantic.”
Evander laughed, though it was a somehow heartbreaking sound. Closing the distance between them, he wrapped his hand around Elyria’s hip, drawing her against him.
“Besides,” she continued, melting into the warmth of his body, “I thought we were beyond all of that.”
“You were always beyond it,” he murmured. “But it was never for my lack of trying.”
She twisted in his arms so that they stood nose-to-nose. “After all these years together, what use have we for a bit of jewelry and a priestess’s blessing? They can’t tell us anything more than we already know.”
“And what is it that we know?” He leaned forward to plant a kiss along the curve of her jaw.
Her breath hitched with every gentle press of his lips. “That I love you. And you love me. And that has always been enough.”
He pulled back. “I do love you,” he said, that sadness flickering across his face, his beautiful bronze skin near glowing in the light of the setting sun. “That’s why it’s time to finally do this.”
Elyria balked at the words, a repetition of what he had said after the incident with Kerrigan. She extricated herself from his arms, realization settling on her shoulders, making her feel twice as heavy. “You aren’t talking about proposing to me.”
“No,” he said. “I’m not.” Evander sighed, running a hand through his dark curls. “It’s not—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “It’s not as though I was trying to keep it secret. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
His expression was stony, his golden eyes serious. Gone was his usual easy humor. All traces of his kiss, the warmth of his embrace, had dissipated in an instant.
A knot twisted in Elyria’s stomach. “Tell me what?”
The silence stretched between them.
Elyria clenched her jaw, drawing her arms tight over her chest. “Tell me what?” she repeated.
Evander hesitated. “I’m entering the Arcane Crucible.”