Chapter 40
Forty
Goddess
The night air was too quiet. The town felt suspended, like a held breath waiting to be exhaled.
Lanterns glowed above the narrow streets in golden strings, swaying gently as if the wind itself was trying not to be noticed.
Their warm light flickered over shuttered windows, bolted doors, and abandoned baskets of half-sorted fruit left on stoops.
A place built for joy, now suffocated by fear.
My power should have been empty, burnt out completely after forcing magic through my veins to pull the dying child back from the brink. But instead, magic thrummed quietly beneath my skin. Waiting and begging to be released. All because I accepted it. I am the goddess of the sea.
I stepped down the middle of the deserted street, my boots brushing over scattered petals that had fallen from the vines overhead. The vines themselves trembled as though sensing what lingered just beyond the veil of the visible.
The first note that left my mouth was soft and inviting.
The monsters wanted me, perhaps I could lure them in with my song.
A low, resonant melody left my lips, rippling through the street and weaving between the shuttered homes. My voice wasn’t sweet or gentle; it was a summoning.
Power threaded through the song, coiling in the air like fine strands of shimmering water.
The street widened as I moved deeper into the town square.
Shop fronts crowned with flowers lined the perimeter, and the centre fountain shone like a bowl of liquid moonlight.
My melody echoed across its still surface, making the water quiver.
The air changed. The first pulse of pressure rippled across my skin like a hand pressing softly against my spine. The lights darkened, dimming until a coldness pressed into my skin.
It was here.
The magic in my song sharpened, shifting to a minor key, each note rising with purpose. The world around me grew dense, heavy, as if invisible walls were drawing inward. The cobblestones at the far edge of the square darkened, the lantern light bending as if swallowed.
I blinked and it was there. Thin and impossibly tall with gangly limbs ending in sharpened claws that dragged across the ground. It had no eyes. No mouth. Yet its face tilted towards me, drawn to my song. The fear it radiated struck like a knife of ice stabbing into my spine.
The melody threaded into the night air, curling around its unnatural form. Its head snapped to the side, bones cracking wetly. I blinked—and it had moved closer, another wave of crushing terror slamming into me.
I forced my voice louder and my magic surged, swirling beneath my ribs. I reached inside the monster’s body, pulling at its blood.
My hands lifted, palms trembling from the force rising inside me.
The Veilstrider thrashed in pain, pulling against my hold.
But I pulled harder. The blood tore free from its body, seeping through its dark grey skin in a spiralling torrent.
Its body shrivelled instantly, collapsing like a decaying corpse.
Its chest caved inwards, and its body disintegrated into the ground.
Blue blood spiralled upward in a glittering arc, suspended in the air.
My arms shook under the weight. Its lifeblood trembled in the air like waves in the ocean, flowing and ebbing like the tide.
The Commander walked towards me, blue gore splattering his bare chest.
His jaw had slackened, eyes fixed on me as though the world beyond my song no longer existed. As if he couldn’t look away. Something seemed off.
I dropped the blood, and it collapsed in a heavy crash, splattered over the cobblestone as my song died in my throat.
He stilled, blinking a few times as if waking from a strange dream.
“Commander?” I asked, taking slow steps towards him. Was he hurt?
Something dark crossed his face as I stood in front of him. A wave of dizziness curled through my vision, dark spots dancing in the streetlights but I wasn’t burned out, not entirely.
“Are you okay?” I asked him as he blinked down at me.
“Lyra—” his voice cracked and I lifted my hand slowly. My fingers weakly brushed his jawline, warm and grounding beneath my touch.
“You used too much power,” he chastised, voice hoarse with something deeper than worry. “You—”
I didn’t let him finish. Reaching up, I brought my lips to his, desperately kissing him as if he was the very air I needed to live.
His mouth answered mine with a low, broken groan that shot heat through my entire body. My skin tingled against his want, sinking into my veins and feeding my power.
His hands slid to my waist, pulling me against him in a movement so instinctive, it tore a soft gasp from my lips. The kiss deepened, hard and consuming.
“What have you done to me?” he murmured against my lips and cradled the back of my neck with a shaking hand. I reached up, brushing my thumb along his cheekbone. He leant into it like he was starving for my touch.
“The same thing you have done to me,” I whispered.
I swallowed hard as the truth burned through me like a fire I had no intention of extinguishing. “Before you, I only knew pain,” I breathed, placing my hand on his chest.
His eyes snapped open, dark and endless as his fingers tightened at my waist.
“You brought me back to life and I refuse to let your darkness consume you.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand to silence him.
“We have monsters to hunt,” I stood on my tiptoes and pulled him into one last, soft kiss. “And a god to kill.”
His eyes flared, at the mention of the fallen Sun God.
“You are fucking perfect,” he whispered, voice fierce.
The word sank into me, threatening to tear open old wounds. Perfect was all I was ever meant to be.
I hated perfect—until it came from him. Someone who saw every jagged piece of me and still held on despite the risk of getting cut.
The mid-morning sun shone through the wall-to-ceiling windows in beams of pale gold, making last night’s horrors seem far away.
It wasn’t though, the Commander was arranging burials and helping the grief-stricken families the dead had left behind.
I may have saved the little boy, Leo, but I couldn’t save the fifteen other Fae who succumbed to the Veilstrider’s fear.
The tea’s floral steam washed over me, and I inhaled deeply before taking another sip. Cerilla sat across from me in the green plush chairs of our bedchamber.
“Thank you for the tea.” I smiled at her. I knew she didn’t think I was making the right decision by marrying her brother. But for some reason, I craved her approval. I had never had female figures in my life, and Cerilla was someone I wanted to like me.
“My pleasure, darling.” She paused to take a sip of her tea. “Thank you for killing the monster that breached our walls.”
“I will kill them all, someday,” I told her, raising my chin.
Cerilla’s cup clanked down a little to firmly. “That’s what I am worried about,” she murmured. “Anyway, this morning’s visit is not about monsters and killing. It is about your wedding dress.”
Nerves swam through my stomach, and suddenly my tea tasted sour.
“It is Obsidian Court tradition to wear black. But you are a goddess, so, I am thinking silver. Like a star shining in the night sky.” Would it upset his Court to go against tradition, would it upset the Commander?
“I like silver but—”
“Good!” She clapped her hands together with a brilliant smile.
“I have had the seamstress make your dress already. But if you want anything changed, we can make it happen.” She beamed with genuine excitement and my heart warmed.
I had started to love the idea of my life in the Obsidian Court.
Never leaving the Commander’s side, training with Solas, sharing tea and gossip with Cerilla, even Riven could stay.
He hadn’t come to see me since he’d kissed me, but Cerilla assured me his leg was healed. It felt like he was avoiding me, though I wished he wouldn’t. He was merely trying to help, and after not seeing him for so long, I found myself missing him.
Cerilla stood and walked to the double doors of the suite, flinging them open with both arms. Six maids walked into the room, a Fae male in a tailored suit and white hair leading them. He smiled widely. “Cerilla, darling, you were not exaggerating! She will look fabulous in my creation!”
An hour passed while I stood in the centre of the room, getting pinned into the most beautiful dress I had ever seen.
Ronaldo fluffed out the train and I stared in wonder. It was breathtaking. The material was like a waterfall of stars, shimmering with each tiny movement.
The strapless bodice formed to my curves and plunged between my breasts. The material gathered at my hips before flowing around my legs.
Some of my scars would be visible, but I didn’t care anymore. If anything, they were physical proof that I was strong, a survivor.
The silver looked like it belonged against my pale skin, making the vibrant clear blue of my eyes appear even brighter.
“Absolutely beautiful,” Cerilla said with a dazzling smile. “You have out done yourself, Ronaldo.” The seamster blushed, bowing his head at Cerilla. The way other Fae responded to her made it obvious they feared her. I should have noticed back at the inn that something was off.
The door began to open, and Cerilla cursed, extending her hand out. Magic pulsed against the door, a shimmering darkness that stopped whoever was on the other side from being able to enter.
“Cerilla, let me in my fucking room,” the Commander yelled, radiating urgency.
“She is honestly fine without you for a few hours, brother. Go about your business.”
His growl rattled the door, and I didn’t bother hiding the smile curving my mouth. The truth was, I was not fine with being apart from him.
Cerilla pushed harder against the door, clearly struggling to hold her brother at bay.
“You better get her out of that dress before he breaks the door down,” Cerilla gritted out towards the maids. They scurried towards me, helping me to undress.
Just as I got my silk dressing gown over my shoulders, the doors slammed open and Cerilla made a disgruntled noise.
The Commander’s eyes were wild, the darkness consuming them completely. “Everyone out!” The maids scrambled out like frightened mice and Ronaldo followed them with his head bowed, my wedding dress clutched to his chest in its bag.
“What is it, brother?” Cerilla asked, taking a small step towards him.
“I said everyone, Cerilla, that means you as well.”
Cerilla huffed, spinning on the heel of her slipper and walking out with her black skirts billowing behind her.
The Commander walked towards me and gripped my waist with his large hands urgently. It would have made me flustered if it weren’t for the anger pulsing through the bond.
“You told me you killed the priest. The one who punished you for your father, yes?”
I froze under his touch, not understanding the urgency in his voice.
“I used his own blade to stab him in the heart,” I said softly.
“And are there many priests in your kingdom?” he demanded.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He was the only one.”
“Then why has your father arrived with a priest at his side?”
My hand flattened against my stomach and nausea surged and flecks danced across my vision. The priest was alive. I had felt the knife plunge into his heart. That was not an injury any Mortal could survive.
“I need you to tell me exactly what he did to you.”
My mind was spinning, and I was grateful for his hands around me. Without them, I may have fallen.
“The bloodlettings were my treatment. They said my condition was an imbalance in my blood. That if they didn’t drain it out, the madness would swallow me.” I hadn’t meant for my voice to crack, but it did. Betraying me.
The Commander made a broken sound that radiated danger, a mix between a snarl and strangled gasp.
His shadows burst outward in an uncontrolled pulse, the nearby candles sputtering violently. “Those weren’t treatments.” His words were a snarl. A sick twist curled through my stomach. The commander cursed in the Fae language.
“They were using your blood Lyra. That’s why the priest didn’t fucking die.”