Chapter 33
Lanterns
TITUS
The sunsets in my kingdom were the best I’d ever seen—soft pinks colliding with burning oranges, molten gold bleeding across the horizon like the sky itself was being forged.
And on dragon-back?
It wasn’t something you watched. It was something you felt.
Why watch a sunset when you could touch one—when it could brush your cheeks and leave you breathless?
We let the females show us what they’d learned today. Delilah worked on controlling Draxxinar with mental commands, while Calpurnia handled manual steering. It made the grumpy old dragon huff in annoyance as his movements turned erratic.
Cercies and I took over the commands, and I caught the wry look he sent my way. Then I heard him in my mind.
—Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
SkyGuard performance from the year we graduated?
—Do you still remember it?
I raised a brow and gave him a haughty grin before giving Drax the unspoken command through our bond.
In unison, our dragons began to climb at nearly a ninety-degree angle.
Delilah and Calpurnia spread their arms like eagles, wind whipping their hair as they whooped into the sky.
The joy in Delilah’s cry warmed me and shook loose the remaining bitterness from earlier like her laughter could cleanse the blood and violence from my hands.
I wrapped an arm around her and kept one hand on the pommel of my saddle as I breathed in her scent.
It steadied me. My heart felt like it synchronized to the beat of hers.
And for a moment, my heart didn’t feel like it belonged to a High Lord or a ruler or a weapon.
It felt like it belonged to her.
When we reached the highest altitude a dragon could safely go, we stalled for several moments—hovering on the edge of the world— before tipping into a nosedive at lightning speed.
Draxxinar and Veyraxxies crossed paths back and forth, weaving their tailwinds into braids across the sky before looping around and spiraling in tight, fearless arcs. I held my Pickles close to make sure she wasn’t frightened.
She wasn’t.
Of course she wasn’t. I knew her.
And as much as she liked to pretend otherwise, she had always had a wild side—an appetite for danger, a hunger for more.
We leveled out and slowed our speed, catching a current that let the dragons rest—wings stretched wide as they glided with minimal effort. We reached the hillside where I’d had my staff set up a picnic dinner.
We dismounted and sent the dragons off to hunt while we got settled on a soft cushioned blanket and pillows—enough room for ten couples. Servants poured wine and passed each of us a glass. Delilah lounged in my lap, taking in the last of the setting sun, and let out a pleased, relaxed sigh.
“This was the best day of my life!” Calpurnia squeaked. “Many more to come, my love,” Cercies said softly before placing a soft kiss on her hand.
I threw a grape at him, because if my General was going to sit there kissing hands like a poet, then he was going to suffer for it. Brotherhood required balance. If I couldn’t mock him, what were we?
He snatched it midair with insulting ease, not even looking, not jostling Calpurnia an inch, like he’d been waiting for it, then popped it into his mouth and chewed like he’d won something.
I huffed a laugh and shook my head. Fucking show-off.
I could get used to this—this simple happiness among friends. There was no political plotting or scheming. Just sweet wine and picnics. No wars or propaganda. Just sunsets and jokes.
Ever since Delilah ripped through the sky into my realm, she had ripped through me. And without her, I would never be whole. I would never be happy.
The servants laid out a decorative charcuterie board with the finest meats, cheeses, breads, chocolates, fruits, and spreads. The females were hungry. Cercies and I exchanged a stifled grin as we hung back and let them pick at the spread.
Only when they slowed down did we take from the board—and of course the chocolates were gone.
All of it warmed my heart. I used to crave power and control. Now, sharing my once-lonely life with people I cared about, who cared about me, was the only thing I wanted anymore.
“Thank you for this,” Delilah whispered to me.
I looked into her icy blue eyes, sparkling with moonlight. “I love you, Pickles. I would do anything for you. I want you to believe me.”
I leaned down toward her face in my lap and met her soft lips with a warm kiss. The sun was fully gone now, leaving only the moon and stars to trace the delicate lines of her face.
Just then, trumpets sounded, and Delilah sat up, startled by the noise.
We were on a hilltop overlooking a village below. People gathered in the streets. One by one, a small flame illuminated a paper lantern. And then, there were thousands. A cluster of individual lights filled the valley between the hills to the brim.
Then, one by one, the lanterns lifted into the night sky. Delilah and Calpurnia gasped.
“It’s so beautiful!!!” Calpurnia cried.
“Did you know this was going to happen?” Delilah asked.
I smiled. “Yes, because I ordered it.”
“You told an entire village to light thousands of paper lanterns for our date?” she asked, starry-eyed, and I loved the shock and wonder in her voice.
I leaned in and whispered my reply into her ear so Cercies and Calpurnia couldn’t hear—not that they were paying attention, tongue-deep in each other’s mouths.
“No. I told an entire village to light three-thousand-six-hundred-and-fifty lanterns—one for every day we have been apart,” I explained.
She looked slightly confused. She narrowed her eyes and replied, “Because you died ten years ago in my realm.”
The lanternlight caught in her eyes, and suddenly they weren’t confused at all.
They went wide—bright, stunned, like the sky had dropped into her gaze. The realization settled there, luminous, and heavy, and for a heartbeat she looked like she couldn’t decide whether to smile or cry. Like she finally understood this wasn’t just a date. This was our love story.
Across dimensions and time, I would find her over and over again.
“Yes. Glad to see you are still good at math, Pickles,” I teased.
She nudged my shoulder playfully.
We all sat back and took in the gentle ascent of the lanterns filling the obsidian sky with a warm, romantic amber glow. The sight was so tranquil it felt like a cure for the day’s poison. The lanterns reminded me of a slow-moving constellation—like a cascade of ascending stars.
If I could, I would never go back to the castle. I would stay here on this hilltop with my mate’s head resting on my chest and the world softened by lantern light.
Relief filled my lungs when she said, “I believe you now, Titus.”
I looked at her curiously.
She continued, “I may not always understand the way you love me… but I believe it’s real.”