CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The storm felt different on this side of the river. The rain still fell, but it carried a faint warmth, as though the sky itself breathed easier beyond the city’s reach.
Umbral rose ahead of us in obsidian towers and curved balconies, its surfaces gleaming black beneath the rainfall. Light glowed from within—not the sharp gold of Haelen, but a muted silver-blue.
Home.
Not the one I was born into, but the one I had claimed in front of a thousand witnesses.
Figures lined the entrance. Veythar guards in dark armor stood with hands resting on hilts, their posture alert. Behind them gathered others. Faces I recognized. Faces I did not. At the center stood Bater, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable until his eyes landed on us.
Talon did not stop until we were deep within the shadow of the gate.
Only then did he let go of my waist, though it was only to dive his hands into my wet hair and frame my face.
He searched my eyes with a desperation that bordered on pain, his thumbs tracing the line of my jaw as if to ensure I had not evaporated into the mist.
“Little flame,” he breathed.
“I am here,” I whispered, my voice wobbling.
Then he crushed his mouth to mine. It tasted of rain and salt and a hunger that had been starved for a thousand years. I clutched at his shirt, my fingers knotting in the fabric as I pulled him closer, needing the radiating heat of him to drown out the memory of today’s events.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his chest heaving.
“If you had died,” he whispered, his voice cracking, “I would have torn the sun from the sky.”
“Is she well?” a familiar voice called out.
I lifted my gaze over Talon’s shoulder. Leona pushed through the gathered crowd, her silver-streaked hair damp, her hands grasping a stone basket. Her eyes shone when she saw me.
“You foolish girl,” Leona breathed, cupping my face before Talon could answer. “We thought the river would bring us your body.”
“I am harder to kill than that,” I said, though my voice wavered.
“You should not test that claim again.”
A ripple of subdued laughter passed through those gathered.
Bater cleared his throat, his expression softening. “As much as I enjoy the reunion, we have a city to secure. The High Court has bent, but they will look for any excuse to snap back. We need a game plan.”
Talon nodded curtly. He planted a final, lingering kiss on my forehead, his lips warm against my cold skin. “I am organizing an emergency meeting with the soldiers. Go with Leona—there is someone who would like to see you.”
I followed Leona deeper into the dark stone thoroughfares. The storm from the other side had followed us in the form of a light mist, and rainwater ran in thin, silver streams along the curves of the obsidian.
“Neya will be glad to see you,” Leona said, before adding, “if she is awake, that is.”
“She is alive?” I breathed.
Leona offered a small nod, her expression softening in the glow of the lanterns. “She is recovering well. It takes more than a piece of Haelen steel to quiet a soul like hers.”
She continued to stroll ahead, the obsidian basket swinging in her hand.
“Leona,” I called out. “Has anyone else crossed the border today?”
She paused and turned to face me with furrowed brows. “No. Were we expecting someone?”
I forced a shake of my head, though the movement tugged at the raw skin along my jaw. “No. It was only a thought.”
I had watched Meliory dart toward the bridge, but fear coiled in my gut. Had he made it? Or had his starved body surrendered to the elements?
The corridor narrowed as we passed beneath a curved archway, and the air shifted from rain and stone to warmth and sweetness.
We stepped into the infirmary, and the scent of crushed lavender and dried sage rose to meet us. The relief I expected was instantly replaced by a jolt of alarm.
A hunched figure leaned over Neya’s still form, his back bent sharply as his hands moved with focused urgency across the bandages at her shoulder.
Leona let out a choked gasp and raced forward.
“Get away from her!” she cried, throwing her arms out to cover Neya
The man stumbled, catching himself against a stone table. His messy head of hair whipped around, and Leona froze. The anger drained from her face so swiftly it left her pale.
“Meliory?” she whispered.
“The wound was festering,” he rasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back a sob. “I had to clean it. I am a healer, Leona. I have not forgotten how.”
A sob tore from her chest and she lunged for him, clutching his ragged shirt as her shoulders shook. I stood in the doorway, my own eyes blurring. The keys I had thrown into that cell had been a reckless act, but here he stood.
“You are here,” she wailed into his chest. “You are actually here.”
“I am here, little prodigy,” he murmured, his trembling hands curling into her cloak.
Leona drew back just enough to cup Meliory’s face in her hands, tears streaking down her cheeks without shame.
“You are half your former size,” she scolded through the tremor in her voice. “You look as though a stiff breeze would carry you off.”
He managed a faint smile. “Then I am fortunate this city shelters me.”
Her laugh broke before she guided him toward a nearby chair and pressed him down gently.
“You brought him back,” she said, turning to me.
I shook my head. “He brought himself.”
She swallowed and offered me a wobbly smile. “Thank you, Kaelia.”
I smiled and move moved toward Neya. She lay propped against dark pillows, her skin pale but no longer ashen.
Clean bandages wrapped her shoulder and ribs, the cloth faintly stained but no longer weeping. Her breathing was slow and even, her brow smooth in sleep.
“Thank you for protecting me,” I whispered, my fingers brushing hers.
Behind me, Leona cleared her throat and swiped at her cheeks. “She will wake soon. The worst of it has passed.”
I closed my eyes briefly then turned to the pair. “I am glad to see you back where you belong, Meliory.”
He smiled and looked at Leona. “If it were not for you, I may have never found my way home.”
I offered Leona one last smile.
“I should rest,” I murmured.
Leona nodded, brushing a damp curl from my temple before returning to Neya’s bedside.
By the time I reached my chamber, my legs felt like lead. The hinges gave way with a soft sigh, and Vesuva slithered up to my feet, her heads coiling around my ankles. I sank into the thick furs of the bed, the scent of the room—clean, familiar, and unmistakably Umbral—swallowing me whole.
Safe.
I lay back and closed my eyes, but the dark brought the memories back in flashes: the block, the crowd, my mother’s scream.
I turned onto my side, pressing my face into the furs as though I could bury the memories there.
I am alive.
My gaze drifted to the window.
Through the narrow pane, I could see the distant spires of Umbral rising dark against the night sky, their curves etched in silver where moonlight caught along their edges. Beyond them, farther than I could truly see, lay the river.
And beyond the river, Haelen.
My family would be in their home now. Or perhaps still in the square. Perhaps arguing with neighbors. Perhaps grieving something that was not death but felt close enough to it.
Would my mother sit at the edge of her bed tonight and wonder if I was cold? Would my father stare out the window toward the river and wonder if I was safe?
I pressed a hand to my chest and rolled onto my back again, staring at the ceiling.
The bond stirred before my ears caught the soft click of the door easing open.
“You are awake,” Talon said softly, crossing the room. The mattress dipped as he sat at the edge of the bed.
“I tried not to be,” I replied, my gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
“You should be resting,” he murmured.
“So should you.”
I turned my head at last.
He had shed his outer layers, leaving only a dark shirt clinging slightly at the collar where rain had not fully dried. His hair was no longer flattened by the storm, but it still bore the faintest wave from earlier dampness.
“You chose me,” he said, his voice disbelieving. “You stood before your entire city and you chose me.”
“I did,” I said, looking up at him.
“They would have killed you.”
“I know.”
His hand came down beside my shoulder. “You left your family.”
“The council gave me no choice, but even if they had, my decision would not change.” My breath trembled. “It is hard to think I will never see them again.”
“If they wish to cross the border, they may,” Talon said firmly. When I looked at him in confusion, he continued. “There is land near the inner gate. A small pavilion, open to the sky. They may sit there without stepping fully into Umbral. I will make a place where they are comfortable, Kaelia.”
My chest warmed at the thought of my mother beneath dark blossoms instead of Haelen stone. “You would do that for them?”
“You chose me,” he said, lifting a hand to brush my hair back. “Now I choose you. And if that means accepting your family, then yes.”
I studied the lines of his face. “I did not choose you because you deserve it. I chose you because I do.”
Something flickered in his expression then, something that looked dangerously close to vulnerability. He shifted closer, his hand finally lifting to brush a loose strand of hair from my cheek.
“I am not accustomed to being chosen,” he said.
“I will always choose you,” I whispered.
Slowly, he slid from the edge of the bed to his knees beside it, his hands resting on my hips.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his forehead brushing my abdomen, “how I am to repay such loyalty.”
A different kind of warmth pooled low in my body, born of certainty and wanting. I reached down, threading my fingers through his hair and tilting his face up toward mine.
“You do not owe me for loving you,” I said.
“Humor me,” he replied, voice deepening.
I shifted, drawing one leg over his shoulder, my bare foot brushing against his back.
“Please me,” I said softly.
His hands tightened at my hips, thumbs pressing gently into the curve of my waist.
He rose in one motion, guiding me back into the furs with careful strength. He did not rush. His palm slid along my thigh, reacquainting himself with the reality of my skin.
“My Solea,” he said quietly.
He moved lower, his hands sliding beneath me to lift my hips, tilting me toward him.
Talon yanked my undergarments down, tossing them to the side. He parted my legs wider and settled between my open thighs.
I felt the heat of his breath first, a warm current that made my skin prickle, and then the first brush of his tongue. I gasped, my head falling back into the soft furs as he began a slow, rhythmic worship.
His touch was not hesitant. He tasted me with a hunger that spoke of every second we had been apart, every moment he thought I was lost to the light.
I clutched at his hair, my fingers tangling in the silken strands as I arched toward him. The sensation was a vibrant, building pressure that made my breath halt in my throat.
“So needy, little flame,” he rumbled against my inner thigh, the vibration of his voice sending a new wave of heat through me. “You are drowning me.”
I let out a broken moan, my hips moving in a circle, chasing the contact. He responded by deepening his focus, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud of my nerves while his fingers began to work within me. Two, then three, stretching me until he made me cry out his name.
“Talon,” I whimpered, my legs trembling as the tension in my belly coiled tighter and tighter.
He did not stop. He suckled the engorged point of my pleasure, his fingers twisting inside me until the world began to fracture at the edges.
“Give it to me,” he growled, his voice a gravelly command. “Let me taste you.”
An eruption of pure, blinding ecstasy racked through my body. A loud cry ripped from my chest, echoing through the chamber as my muscles spasmed in a long, rolling climax.
He did not pull away. He stayed with me until the tremors subsided into a soft glow. He lifted his head, his face illuminated by the bioluminescent moss, looking like a king who had finally found his throne.
“You are mine,” he whispered. “And I will worship you until there is nothing left of me.”
I pulled him up, my arms wrapping around his neck to bring his lips to mine.
I was home.