Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Raziel had lived for over two centuries, but he had never experienced a morning quite like this one.
Someone had fetched them a small, cracked mirror for their makeshift room. Nadi had told them of their plan for the day. He’d thought it unwise, but she rightfully made the point that it was not a secret they were capable of keeping. Others would notice them missing.
Besides, he was making a point by marrying her in truth. Both to her, to himself… and to her people. So, there he stood, in front of the hazy mirror, attempting to make himself presentable for what was either the most important day of his existence—or the most pointless one.
The distinction seemed increasingly irrelevant as more and more of his old life fell away. As he looked at the mountain he now had to climb before him to take it all back.
Behind him, Nadi moved with quiet efficiency, braiding her dark hair with the same methodical precision she used when cleaning her blades.
She’d managed to procure a dress from somewhere—nothing elaborate, just a simple thing in deep green that brought out the otherworldly array of colors in her eyes.
On her, it looked like something a queen might wear to her coronation.
Or her execution.
The most important, or most pointless.
“Second thoughts?” she asked without turning around, her fingers working through the intricate pattern she was weaving into her hair.
He smirked. “About which part? Marrying my fae assassin or doing it in the depths of the Wild where any number of things could kill us before we finish the ceremony?”
“Both, I suppose.”
He considered the question seriously. By any rational measure, what they were about to do was insane. He was a vampire, she was fae. Their entire relationship had been built on lies, manipulation, and a shared appetite for violence that probably said terrible things about both their souls.
Yet.
“No,” he said simply, bowing his head to kiss the top of hers. “I don’t live my life looking back. You know that.”
She turned then. The dress clung to her curves in ways that made his mouth go dry, and the intricate braids she’d woven into her hair were threaded with small glinting beads of various strange stones that caught the dim light like captured stars.
“You look…” He paused, searching for words that wouldn’t sound ridiculous. “Magnificent.”
A faint blush colored her cheeks. “You don’t look terrible yourself.”
“Hmph. I look horrendous, but thank you for the lie.” He’d done what he could with their limited resources—hair combed back, the worst of the grime scrubbed from his skin and his clothes. They had not loaned him anything fresh to wear, but they had at least let him wash what he had.
Nothing like the elaborate formalwear he’d have chosen for such an occasion under normal circumstances, but somehow it felt appropriate. This wasn’t about pageantry or politics. This was about something far more fundamental.
A knock at their door interrupted the moment. Nadi opened it to reveal Kalo Lohti, looking every inch the dangerous fae insurrectionist. His silver eyes moved between them, taking in their obvious preparations, and something painful flickered across his face before he mastered it.
“So,” he said quietly. “Kassa told me the rumor, but I didn’t want to believe it. You’re really doing this.”
“We are.” Nadi’s voice was gentle but firm. “I told her we’d be back in time for the raid. I hope you can understand. This is because you had to pick a fight in front of the others, and now I have to clear up your mess.”
Kalo was silent for a long moment, his gaze lingering on her face with an intensity that made Raziel’s hands itch for a weapon. But when he spoke, his voice was steady.
“I understand that you’re choosing the path that makes sense for… who you’ve become. I may not like it, but I understand it. That’s what I wanted to say when your vuampi interrupted us.”
From a bag slung over his shoulder, Kalo produced an ornate wooden box, its surface carved with twisting, organic patterns that seemed to have no rhyme or reason. “I brought you this. The Iltani clan lost theirs, a few dozen years back.”
Nadi’s intake of breath was sharp, almost pained. “Kalo, you can’t. That’s—”
“Yes.” He held it out to her with steady hands. “And you’re still fae, Nadi. No matter who you choose to bind yourself to, you deserve to be married according to our ways. With our blessings.”
She took the box with reverent care, her fingers tracing the carved patterns. Tears gathered in her eyes—the first genuine tears Raziel had seen from her since… well, he remembered some when he was dying. But he was hardly fully aware at the time.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
“I think I do.” Kalo’s smile was sad but genuine. “Be happy, Nadi. Both of you. Try not to destroy the world while you’re at it. At least the part I care about. And… see you bring that back in one piece, will you?”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving them alone with the weight of his unexpected gift.
Raziel studied the box in Nadi’s hands, noting the way she held it like something precious and fragile. “What is it, exactly?”
“Later,” she said softly. “I’ll explain everything later.”
The journey deeper into the Wild took most of the morning.
They left the dockyards behind, making their way through tunnels and passages that grew increasingly organic as they descended.
The bioluminescent vines that had been mere decorations in the upper levels became the dominant feature here, forming complex networks that pulsed with their own inner light.
Raziel found himself studying Nadi as they walked, the way she moved through this strange landscape with unconscious grace. This was her element, he realized. For all that she’d adapted to the world above, this place of impossible beauty and lurking danger was where she truly belonged.
“How much farther?” he asked as they squeezed through a particularly narrow passage between two massive root systems.
“Not far now.” Her voice carried a note of anticipation that made something flutter in his chest. She was nervous… and that meant more to him than he realized. “We’re almost there.”
“There” turned out to be one of the most beautiful places Raziel had ever seen.
They emerged from the tunnel into a vast cavern lit by the soft purple glow of countless vines.
But these weren’t the simple tendrils they’d encountered elsewhere—here, the vines had grown into something resembling an enormous tree, its thick trunk rising toward the cavern ceiling before branching into a canopy of living light.
Tendrils hung down like weeping willows, and insects that glowed in every color imaginable flitted from branch to branch.
The air was warm and humid, filled with the sound of dripping water and the distant call of unseen creatures.
At the base of the vine-tree, in the center of the space, lay a pond. Its surface was so still it might have been black glass. The vines reflected in its depths, creating a mirror image that made it impossible to tell where reality ended and reflection began.
Nadi stopped walking. “This is it. This is where we’ll be married.” She paused. “Again.”
Raziel turned in a slow circle, taking in the otherworldly beauty of the place. “It’s…” He paused, searching for adequate words. “It’s perfect.”
But as he continued his survey, something occurred to him. “I’m troubled that we will have no witnesses.”
“The only witnesses we need are here already.” Nadi moved to the edge of the pond, her reflection clearer than it was in the mirror that morning, so perfect was its dark surface. “Our souls. Our blood. The Wild itself.”
Kneeling at the edge of the water, she gestured for him to do the same across from her. He did as she silently instructed, obviously knowing nothing of fae marriage rituals.
She set down the ornate box Kalo had given her, her movements taking on a ritualistic quality that spoke of deep tradition.
When she opened it, Raziel caught a glimpse of its contents—a goblet that seemed to be carved from a single piece of dark wood, and a dagger whose blade caught the vine-light like captured starlight.
“Each clan has one of these,” she explained, lifting the goblet carefully. “Passed down through generations, used for the most sacred ceremonies. Births, deaths, bindings that join souls together for eternity.”
“And Kalo just… gave it to you?” That was hard to believe.
“Loaned. And he loaned it to us.” She met his gaze steadily. “To acknowledge that what we’re doing is real. That it matters, regardless of what anyone else might think. It was his own way of saying he… approves of this, even if he wishes it went another way, in another life.”
The weight of that gesture—and perhaps the profound respect it represented—settled on Raziel’s shoulders like a mantle. Whatever else Kalo Lohti might be, he was a man who understood the gravity of what they were undertaking.
And a man who was not a sore loser. He could appreciate that.
Nadi lifted the dagger next. When she began to speak, her voice took on a cadence that was clearly ceremonial, words flowing from her in the strange syllables of the fae tongue. “Te’eilim, ish wu’iel. Drustish, ish wu’iel. Lisht’na, ish wu’iel. Nalo ish wu’tiva tul siva, maru na talighi.”
The words washed over Raziel like music, odd and incomprehensible. But he could fool himself into thinking there was power in them, much like his own commands—he could imagine the way the air itself seemed to thicken, in how the bioluminescent vines pulsed brighter in response to her voice.
She drew the blade across her palm without hesitation, letting her blood fall into the goblet. The crimson drops struck the wood with soft sounds that seemed to echo far longer than they should have.
His mouth watered.