Chapter 55 Shadow and Sun
SHADOW AND SUN
ELYRIA
The moonlight spilling through the narrow window bathed the modest room in silver stillness. The only other light came from Cedric himself—subtle, warm, the barest golden shimmer radiating from under his skin.
It wasn’t bright, wasn’t blinding. Rather, it was as though his glow had settled, the gentle rays of the morning sun warming tired bones. Elyria let her eyes roam over him in awe before closing them and drawing her forehead to his.
They sat in silence at the edge of the bed, wrapped around each other, breaths syncing. She soaked in his charred sandalwood scent, and his soft exhales stirred the loose strands of her hair that had freed themselves from her braid.
The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was full—dense, heavy.
Laden with everything that had happened, the truths that had been revealed .
. . and things they had yet to say. Elyria shifted in his lap, her legs falling to either side of him.
The bed creaked slightly beneath them but otherwise, it was as though the world held its breath.
Cedric’s fingers moved lazily across her lower back, brushing over the gap between her blouse and breeches, grounding her and unraveling her all at once. His hands slid up her arms, cupping her face, his thumb skating over her cheekbone. “Lightbreaker.”
She opened her eyes. “Sunbringer.”
“This is the beginning of our After,” Cedric murmured, his voice so low it was little more than a breath.
Elyria’s throat tightened. “Not yet,” she said. “But soon. Solaris knows we’ve fucking earned it.” And then she kissed him again.
He dropped his hands back to her legs, skimming over her thighs, fingers splayed, as if relearning the shape of her.
Elyria melted into him, their chests flush, and without looking she knew that under her blouse her heart had to be glowing too.
It felt as though it might burst as she threaded her hands through his hair, their lips meeting over and over—slow, reverent. A promise. A vow.
She leaned back to look him in those gold-ringed eyes. “I want to say something, but I’m not sure where to start. It’s . . . hard for me.”
His gaze softened, his scarred lip curving up in a gentle smile. “You don’t need to say anything.”
“No, I do.” She swallowed. “I need you to know that I’m choosing this. Not because of whatever the celestials might have planned, or the magic inside me, or whatever fate decides. I choose this. I choose you.”
Cedric exhaled, the sound nearly a groan. “Say it again.”
“I choose my After with you.”
The golden light between them flared.
“I did not live until I met you,” he said, fingers dancing along the hem of her blouse. He lifted it over her shoulders, the lightweight fabric ghosting over her skin like a whisper. “I will choose you in every life.”
The glow from Cedric’s chest—from her own—painted Elyria’s bare skin gold, and her shadows rose to meet it. They curled around his arms, his back, cradling him in dark even as their light met.
He dipped his head, kissing the mark on her shoulder, and her whole body trembled. His fingers drifted up the side of her wing, fluttering loosely over her back, and the sensation cracked her open.
Her breath caught in her chest, sharp and aching, as she pulled his lips to hers once more.
He stood, shifting his grip under her ass, holding her against his body.
Elyria clung to him. Her nails raked up the bare expanse of his back, her legs wrapped around his waist. The world could have torn itself apart in that moment and she wouldn’t have let go.
She wouldn’t have to. Because just for now, just in this, it did feel as though time slowed. Stopped. Like the celestials themselves were allowing them to bask in this moment, in their heartbreaking closeness.
There was no threat of tomorrow, no treacherous past. There was only now.
Only them.
Cedric swung around, setting her back on the bed.
With deft fingers, he unlaced her breeches, dotting reverent kisses down her legs, across her thighs, as he peeled them off.
And then the rest of his own clothing was gone, and she was in his arms once more, a swirl of light and dark, of skin and heat and want.
Elyria gasped when she felt him, hard and insistent, pressing against her entrance. She let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh of relief and a moan of pleasure as he slid inside, slowly, tenuously.
“You are a miracle,” he said with a groan, filling her entirely—body and spirit.
“You are mine,” she whispered back.
“Yes.” His voice vibrated down their bond, fierce and bright. “There is no end to how I feel about you. No limit.” There was silver lining his eyes when she looked at him. “We are infinite.”
A single tear slipped from Elyria’s own eye, and he kissed it away. She wanted to echo him. Wanted to give him everything. Give him more. But those little words wouldn’t form. The ones she should say, the ones she needed to say.
They lodged in her chest like a splintered blade.
She rolled her hips, relishing in the long drag of him inside her.
She drank in his needy sounds, the flush in his cheeks, the swirl of shadow dancing around them, the whisper of light.
He backed up onto the bed, crashing down on it, the two of them laughing as they repositioned themselves on the mattress.
Elyria looked down at Cedric laid out beneath her, chest rising and falling, and the bond between them pulsed like a heartbeat. That golden thread shimmered to life in her mind’s eye—solid and radiant and vibrant.
Unbreakable.
She placed her hands on his chest as she moved over him, their bodies meeting again and again and again. There was nothing frantic about it, nothing hurried. It was steady, sacred.
Like worship.
He touched her like she was the only thing he’d ever believed in.
Cedric ran one hand up Elyria’s side, then around to her back, skimming the base of her wing. She tensed, sensation rippling through her at the gentle touch.
He inhaled. “I’m sorry, does it still hurt? From before?”
She let out a light laugh, rocking against him once more. “It is the furthest thing from pain.”
Their magic swirled together, his sun brushing the edges of her soul, her shadows and wild magic tangling in his.
And then she was crying out as pleasure crested, throwing her head back in ecstasy.
When she returned her gaze to Cedric’s face, it, too, held nothing but reverent bliss as they came together.
She felt the moment his control slipped, the way his magic flared white-hot, the way hers surged to meet it.
It didn’t burn. Didn’t hurt.
Nothing could hurt her, so long as he was with her.
They were matching constellations dotting the sky, opposing forces forged together—sun and shadow, day and night, radiance and ruin.
The Phoenix and the Revenant.
The glow from their bond bled into the moonlit air, golden and violet, edged in silver. Elyria’s vision dimmed as she collapsed atop Cedric, trembling with aftershocks of pleasure, her wings curling over them both, while his arms wrapped around her like armor.
They lay like that for a while, tangled together, bodies still combined, sweat cooling on their skin. The room was quiet but for their mingled breath and the pounding beats of their hearts.
Eventually, her pulse slowed. She slid off Cedric, and he instantly rolled onto his side, curling his body around hers. His breathing eased to a sleepy cadence, his eyes closing.
In the silence, Elyria made a new kind of vow.
One to each of the Five—Solaris, Lunara, Earth Mother Gaia, Noctis, and even Aurelia, sitting somewhere in her Sanctum.
Whatever awaited them in Seastone . . .
Whatever price a victory against Malchior would demand . . .
Her knight would not be the one to pay it.
This was not a bond forged by fate.
It was hers and his and theirs.
And if she needed to, Elyria would crawl through all four quarters of hell to protect it.