Chapter 55
A lora leaned on the wooden railing of their balcony, overlooking the calm lake and mountains beyond. She listened to Garrik’s slow and even breathing while he slept on his stomach as she twisted her Smokeshadow ring, feeling his power radiating from the stone.
Drinking in the breeze and scent of pearlseas, the sound of chirping nightbugs, Alora curled her toes against the hardwood and clutched Garrik’s tunic tighter around her body.
Like his shield over camp, the ring thrummed enough that her hair threatened to stand. She twisted it again, smiling at Smokeshadows dancing inside. Alora outstretched her hand—maybe by faeling curiosity—and flipped her palm skyward, grinning brighter than the stars when tendrils of shadow appeared in her palm.
She huffed an amused laugh and willed sparks to dance with the coils licking her magic. Utterly awestruck by Garrik’s power, Alora gaped at it in her hand, perfectly balanced with her own. Smoke and flames. Cold and warm.
Equal in every way.
Frigid cold enveloped her, sinking through his tunic she wore, and cradled her in his soothing presence before he spoke. “I will never tire of that,” infatuated and dazed, he murmured against her ear while his arms toweled her waist.
Alora hummed and continued to play. Waggling her fingers, flickering flames around shadows. “Did I wake you?” By using your power , she didn’t say as her thoughts narrowed on his unusual heartbeat. And she wondered … by commanding Smokeshadows, did she steal from those protecting his heart?
Garrik kissed her temple. No, clever girl. My heart is safe with you. And brushed a finger down her wrist. A shadow whorled around his finger, recognizing its master. “Though I felt it, no. You did not wake me. But I did wonder why you were not in bed. Are you alright?”
They watched a spark as shadow gathered around it. “Yes,” she answered honestly. “I was thinking.”
“If you wish to remodel our home, I do not mind?—”
“No, not that.” She hadn’t seen much of it yet, anyway, having been a little distracted since stepping inside. “I’m not a princess.” Cursed stars, or a High Princess… In fact, she hated the word, the title. And knew what he’d say, so she snapped, “Or a queen.”
Garrik’s answering smile was purely wicked.
Alora swallowed, emotion biting at her fingertips. She dropped her hand, allowing their powers to dissipate when Garrik spoke.
“There is no need to decide now. If you wish to be addressed as Alora , then so be it. It will be an honor to say your name. I too hate it—High Prince. Savage Prince. Your Highness. You can be addressed by whatever you wish.”
“Can’t I just be,” Alora shook her head, rolling her eyes, “Garrik’s … whatever?”
“Garrik’s whatever,” he repeated with an amused chuckle. “What about your favorite book? High Lady?”
A hint of unease thrummed through her veins. Lady. The repulsive title she’d held for decades. The term she never wished to be called again because it scalded her with memories and bruised her with phantom hands. Too much like Kaine’s property.
Although …
Since when did she allow Kaine to snake back into her life? Garrik had helped her reform those parts of her he’d stolen. Why would she allow him to own this, too?
Alora raised her chin, looking out at the lake as if it were subjects of the realm she now commanded. Defiantly imagining ebony hair and cruel mahogany eyes, she half-snarled to his memory, “I’ll consider it.”
Again, she twisted that ring. A new hope sprouted a feeling of wanting. Of taking back yet another piece of herself.
Garrik said through her silence, “Do you want a ceremony?”
Without him explaining it, the word wedding surfaced.
Alora chewed on her cheek. He’d give her one if she wanted. Though it or a ring wasn’t required, once she said the words and vowed to be his wife, they were bound.
She scanned the land, the building cradled between two forests on the mountain, another by the lake. One silhouetted at the top of a rolling hill. Scanned the homes. Of Thalon, Aiden, and Jade. Of Eldacar and even Ezander, knowing her answer.
“I want them to be a part of this.” Their family. “I want to celebrate with them. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Just…” Pressure built behind her nose and eyes, picturing Eldacar embracing Garrik like an older sibling. Imagining Jade hugging her. Aiden throwing flower petals in a ridiculous display of dramatics as Thalon oversaw the ceremony. Rowlen … Rowlen would be there. Escorting her as he once promised.
That perfect picture sweetened as a tear swiftly fell. Far better than anything her old life would’ve offered. This thought, this future, was perfect.
Garrik kissed her hair. “Then we will. Whatever you wish.”
“But what about you? Is that what you want?”
A smile twitched the corners of his mouth. “I want that too.”
“We could do it here.” In this world. Alora’s attention flickered to the graveyard. To the tombstone in memory of his mother.
Garrik deepened a heavy breath, kissed her cheek with gratitude, and said, “That sounds perfect.” But then straightened behind her, caught off-guard by something. Garrik looked to the graveyard, then to her with softened eyes, but said nothing more.
And she wondered if he was thinking of his mother as her thoughts wavered to her parents. “It’ll be dawn soon,” she informed, refusing the pain of knowing her parents wouldn’t be there to see her happy and embraced by the love of their friends. To meet the male who restored her broken pieces and preserved her heart.
She pressed against Garrik when he laid his chin on her shoulder and kissed her neck like he couldn’t get enough of simply touching her.
“Mmm, good. As I intend to worship you in the daylight, too.”
Alora turned, finding those lust-stricken silvers bright and alive even half-lidded. “We’ll be missed.” Her cheeks heated. Not only missed, but Thalon would know what was keeping them. Though she wanted to stay there the rest of eternity with Garrik, the simple fact was they hadn’t located Blood. They’d need to return within a few hours.
“Airatheldra exists outside the bounds of time. A mere second in Elysian could be a day here. A month. Thalon most likely has not returned to his room yet.”
Her eyes brightened at that.
“Which means…” Garrik turned her against the balcony with something wild and ancient in his eyes. He was naked, caging her in as a finger disturbed the unbuttoned fabric at her chest. “My wife,” he growled with a smirk that shot pleasure to her core, “we have endless time to do whatever we please.”
Alora rubbed her thighs together.
Garrik’s impeccable attention noticed.
“What of that library you mentioned?” She glanced over her shoulder at the homes built and spread across the land. “One of those?”
Garrik barked a laugh. “Oh, I have one full of ideas I promise to fulfill before returning, but I am certain Eldacar would not want us fucking in his home.”
Alora traced a finger down the front of him and stopped at his chiseled waistline.
“Wicked, clever thing.” His cock twitched, begging her to continue.
She did. Wolfishly, she did.
When Garrik groaned from her hand wrapped around his cock and she lifted on her toes to kiss him, Alora said, “Well then, husband.” Shuddering at the word she once vowed to never speak, Alora released her hold on the tunic, dropping it to the floorboards. “What are you waiting for?”