Hux
THIRTY-FOUR
Lunaria stood at the center, the focus ring glinting on her finger, her face tilted toward the cracked glass dome overhead. The dying light painted her in shades of amber and gold, followed the curve of her cheek and the worried furrow between her brows.
She was reading star charts. He’d learned to recognize the expression—that distant focus, the way her eyes tracked patterns invisible to everyone else. Whatever she was seeing in the sky, it wasn’t good.
“What is it?”
She didn’t startle at his voice. She’d probably felt him approaching—the gardens responded to his presence now, and his lion’s footsteps weren’t exactly subtle on the stone paths.
“The Convergence is going to be stronger than Deia predicted.” She turned to face him, and the worry in her dark eyes made his chest tighten.
“The mating surge—all those bonds formed over the past two years—they’ve fed Haven Shores’ magical density.
The ley lines are practically saturated. When the barriers thin...”
“The Hollow King will have more to consume.”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around herself, a gesture he’d learned meant she was fighting the urge to run. “Six mated pairs now. All that love, all that potential, concentrated in one small town. When the Hollow King crosses over, it’s going to find a feast waiting.”
“But it also means we’ll have more power to fight back with,” he said.
“If I can channel it properly.”
“You can.”
“Maybe.” Her laugh was brittle. “The orrery needs a tremendous amount of energy to fire. I’ve never channeled anything close to what’s required. Deia spent four decades building this weapon, and she was more powerful than me. More trained. More—”
“You pulled down stars to save my life.”
The words stopped her. She blinked at him, some of the tension bleeding from her shoulders.
“That was desperation,” she said quietly. “That was watching you die and refusing to accept it.”
“Then be desperate again.” He crossed to her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes. “Fight like you’re fighting for everything you can’t afford to lose.”
“I am.” Her voice cracked on the words. “That’s what terrifies me. I’ve spent years making sure I had nothing to lose. Nothing that could hurt when it was taken away. And now...”
He cupped her face in his hands, tilting it up until she had to meet his gaze. The orrery hummed around them, flowers pulsing with celestial light, the weapon she’d built to save them all framing her like a living halo.
“Now you have me,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t promise that. We don’t know—”
“I can promise I’ll fight for it. For us. For every possible future the Hollow King tried to steal from me.” His thumbs brushed the curve of her cheekbones, memorizing the feel of her.
A laugh escaped her. “You hid it well.”
“I’ve had practice hiding things.” He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her close until their noses touched, breathing her in. “I’m done hiding. Done waiting. Done pretending I don’t want everything with you.”
“Hux—”
“I want to claim you, Luna. Tonight. Before the battle.”
She went absolutely still in his arms.
The words hung between them, heavier than the celestial energy humming through the air.
“Not because I think we’ll lose,” Hux continued, his voice rough with everything he’d been holding back.
“Because I want to go into this fight knowing we’ve chosen each other completely.
Because I want my lion’s teeth in your shoulder and your starlight in my soul and no more doubt about what we are to each other. ”
“The curse—”
“Is already breaking.” He drew back enough to see her face, to watch understanding dawn in her eyes. “The candle showed you. The Fate Lilies keep blooming gold when we pass. Something is changing in me, Luna. You’re changing it. And I want to see what happens when we stop holding back.”
Her hands came up to grip his wrists, not pulling away but anchoring herself. Her pulse raced beneath his palms.
“Claiming is permanent,” she said. “Even if we survive the Convergence, even if we break the curse completely—you’d be bound to me forever. A witch who sees death in stars. A woman who spent years running from everyone she cared about.”
“I’d be bound to the woman I love.” His lion rumbled beneath his skin, impatient, certain. “The woman who chose to stay. Who saved my life with starlight. Who made me feel whole when I’d given up on ever feeling anything.”
“You might regret it.”
“Never.”
“Hux—”
“Tell me you don’t want it.” He brushed his lips against her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth. “Tell me you don’t want my mark on your skin and my name claimed yours. Tell me, and I’ll stop.”
She shuddered. Her fingers tightened on his wrists.
“I can’t.” The words came out broken, honest. “I can’t tell you I don’t want it, because I do. I want everything with you. I want to stop running. I want to stay.”
“Then let me claim you.”
She kissed him.
The kiss of a woman making a choice—throwing herself off a cliff and trusting him to catch her. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. Her body pressed against his, warm curves and urgent need.
His lion roared approval.