Chapter 56
Mariah woke with energy thrumming through her veins.
Not the energy of her magic; those threads were still dormant. It was a deeper energy, a wilder energy, the kind she felt only twice a year.
Her eyes fluttered open to the bright warmth of the mountain dawn.
Today was the Summer Solstice.
She still couldn’t quite believe how much had changed in the half year since the Winter Solstice. Not just in herself, but everything. The whole world felt different now.
The bed shifted, a familiar warmth wrapping around her, a head with thick onyx-black hair nuzzling into her neck. Rain and cedarwood filled her lungs.
Her lips tipped up in a smile. Maybe not everything had changed. Somehow, some way, this hadn’t managed to slip through her fingers.
Not yet, anyway.
She wound her arms around Andrian’s shoulders and hooked a leg over his hip. He lifted his head, brilliant eyes meeting hers, still hazy with sleep.
Mariah wondered when he’d last slept so well.
A thrill raced down her spine at the memories from last night. The Leuxrithian performance. The splendid music. The delicious feast.
The way she’d paid attention to none of it, instead dropping to her knees under the table to torment the man beside her.
She’d expected him to return the favor the moment they arrived back in their rooms. Gods, she’d been so desperate for him, she’d practically begged. But Andrian, of course, did what he’d always done.
He’d frustrated her.
With a wicked smirk, he’d held her away from him, kissing her gently on the forehead before quickly falling asleep. She was left breathless and wanting and dissatisfied until she’d eventually found sleep herself.
They’d both suffered enough. Why was he pulling away from her again?
No; she wasn’t going to let him do that. Not again. His skin was hot against hers, heating her blood. Warmth settled deep in her core, and she shifted closer to him, tightening her grip on his skin.
A mirrored heat flickered in his gaze, just before the sleepy haze cleared. Mariah’s breath caught in her chest, waiting for him to lean closer—
The crushing blue of his eyes filled with a familiar devilish glint.
She tried to hold onto him, but he was too fast. Andrian untangled from her, pulling away with a smirk.
Mariah couldn’t stop her scowl. “What’s the matter with you? Is there something wrong?”
Andrian chuckled, pushing up onto his elbow. He leaned over her and placed a gentle kiss to the furrowed skin of her brow. “Of course not. I’m impossibly happy. And good morning to you, too, by the way. Happy Solstice.”
“Happy Solstice,” she said slowly, scanning him. The muscles in his shoulders and chest were flexed, his dark hair messy and ruffled. She slid a hand up, ready to run a nail down his skin and over the ridges of his abdomen—
He caught her wrist, tsking.
She nearly growled at him.
“As much fun as it is watching you squirm, nio,” he murmured lazily, pushing her hand back to the mattress, “I promised you a lesson. You can’t be the one doing all the teaching.”
Heat flared across her cheeks.
She swallowed. “A lesson in what?”
His eyes flashed, more heat rushing into her body. “Patience.” He lowered his head, lips grazing her ear. “I have something deliciously special planned for you. But only if you’re good.” His mouth skated across her cheek, breath mingling with hers. “Can you be good, Mariah?”
“Yes,” she answered on an airy exhale, and gods, she was burning. He had so many nicknames for her—nio, princess, queen—but the sound of her real name, her given name, on his lips…
She was embarrassed, truthfully, to admit how much it affected her.
“Good.” He kissed her gently, chastely, delicately, but it was enough to almost have her crawling out of her skin.
He vanished, the space above her suddenly empty and cold. Andrian strode to the bathroom, giving her a delicious view of his ass.
Mariah bit her tongue to keep from groaning. Again.
“Get dressed,” he called. “Did you think we’d skip training just because it’s a holiday? We have a war to win, princess.”
Bright colors and gauzy fabrics glowed in the fading evening light.
Twinkling lights were strung around stone houses and between towering pine trees. Magically lit torches were staked along the wide well-trodden path, illuminating the way as the residents of Eyarfell wound their way down the bustling streets to the lake for the Solstice celebration.
Mariah drew in a deep breath, enjoying the brush of the summer breeze across her face. She adjusted the draping ruby fabric of her dress across her shoulders with one hand, squeezing her other around Andrian’s fingers.
A few of the residents walking beside them gave her shy, respectful nods. Their attitudes were improving toward Andrian, but she still couldn’t help but notice the wide berth many of them gave.
“Have you seen Matheo today?”
Andrian shook his head with a low laugh. “No.” He nodded down the path to where the trees were parting. “But I have a feeling I know where he is.”
They broke through the tree line, and Mariah’s breath caught in her chest.
It was difficult to see when they were up on the cliffs, but a great, sandy beach spread beside the sparkling, crystalline lake.
A bonfire roared near the waters, soaring, lighthearted music filling the air.
Trees ringed the open space, wreathed in shadow as the forest reached for the water.
The twin moons sat full and brilliant in the sky, their silver and gold light shimmering around them.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
Signe waltzed from the forest, Matheo trailing after her with a wide, boyish grin.
Andrian leaned into Mariah. “Found him,” he whispered. She smirked, meeting Signe in a warm embrace.
“It is. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I know you Onitans have your reasons for all the pomp and circumstance,” Signe said, releasing Mariah. “But I’ve always thought you were missing out on the true magic of the Solstice. I pray my people show it to you tonight.”
Mariah soaked up the impossible beauty of the beach. “How is this place possible? The tree line goes to the water in all places around the lake…except for right here.”
Signe grinned. “We aren’t sure, exactly,” she said, “but we think it’s the fullness of the moons.
Their power pulls the water back, giving us a place to gather and celebrate the night.
” She nodded toward the edge of the forest. Callamus watched his people filter down from the mountains with an expression of contentment.
“Perhaps he can tell you more. I suspect his magic helps in more ways than we know.”
Mariah shook her head. “Some things I’d rather not know the answer to and simply enjoy for what they are.”
“Then you are learning, Your Majesty.” Signe bowed her head, the silver gauze of her dress flowing around her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, throwing a wink over her shoulder at Matheo. “I promised to show your Armature how Leuxrith celebrates the Solstice.”
“Don’t break him, please. I still need him after tonight.”
Signe grinned wickedly, but there was something soft and sad in her violet eyes. Something that chilled Mariah’s humor, but not enough to leaden her heart.
“Happy Solstice, Mariah.”
“Happy Solstice, Signe.”
The priestess bounded away, Matheo following her like an obsessed puppy. Something gold glinted over the lake, just before Cielle settled on a nearby branch. Mariah again wove her fingers through Andrian’s, pulling him onto the beach and closer to the lake.
“How do you think things are going in Kreah? Do you think everyone is okay?” The question had been nagging her for a while, but she hadn’t had the courage to voice it. Something about this night—the light, the dark, the warmth, the magic—helped the words slip onto her tongue.
Andrian pushed his free hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he said, honesty bare in his voice. “You’ve sent Cielle out a few times, yet each time she comes back empty-handed. I trust that Drystan would alert you if something was wrong.”
“I have to trust that, too.” Mariah blew out a sigh. “But the silence worries me.”
“It’s supposed to worry you. You’re the queen.” Andrian tugged her close, free hand slipping around the nape of her neck and tangling in her hair. “I’ll worry with you. But not tonight. Tonight, you deserve a moment to put it all out of your head.”
“It’s not just them, Andrian,” she whispered, holding his brilliant, perfect blue stare. “What about Onita? What about everyone still there, caught in the path of Kol’s wrath? And what about what this night is meant to do; will Onita be okay without an influx of allume?”
A fouler question lurked in the corner of her mind. A memory of the darkness she’d found in that abandoned building in Verith. Of the same darkness that had plagued the lights and power in Onita, one that she’d cast out from the reserves of allume that were channeled all throughout the kingdom.
What if, with her gone, Kol managed to do something worse to her kingdom’s beautiful magic?
Andrian pressed his forehead to hers, his skin warm. “I have to believe that everything will be okay. Even if we weren’t in Leuxrith, we couldn’t risk a ceremony. Who knows what monsters Kol would manage to pull through when your power lowered the barriers between the planes?”
“What if he still tries?” Mariah’s question was meek and soft.
“He could, but he wouldn’t succeed,” Andrian growled. “You are the bridge between the mortals and the gods. Kol needs you and he knows it. He could never wield the power you have.”
“How do you know that?”
Andrian grimaced. “He wanted you,” he whispered. “Before I escaped, he said he wanted you. That you…took something from him. He wanted to know where you’d gone. He sounded mad, but I have to assume it was because of the Solstice.” He exhaled. “Which is another reason I didn’t want to find you.”