Chapter 57
ROOKE
Tempeste hit me like a memory I could finally touch.
Taste—like this city was ripe with possibility.
The spot Lyrae chose to land us smelled of baked bread. Of iron and fire drifting up from a forge somewhere below us, and the clean bite of freshly fallen snow threading through the narrow streets from the mountain above.
Mount Sylvan, rising above us like a white-dusted guardian, watched over a broken city recently pieced back together.
New masonry and mortar gleamed like pale scars amongst ancient beige stone, a few scorch marks still carved across the facades of old shops—wounds from the war, or some recent battle.
“It’s right down here. I can hear them.”
As she eagerly tugged me along, Lyrae’s hand felt so delicate in mine, bones shifting beneath my clumsy fingers as she led me down a broad stairway, the steps worn smooth by generations.
Even here, she moved like she was still on the battlefield—shoulders squared, stride sure, blue eyes scanning every dark corner.
Then a throng of bundled-up children raced past us, boots pounding on the cobblestones, shrieking with laughter, waving sticks, chasing a hoop made from woven reeds. One of them collided straight into Lyrae’s legs, skidded, and stared up at us both with wide eyes.
Lyrae just brushed her fingers over the girl’s shoulder, gentle and kind.
“If you use the other end of your stick, you’ll have a better chance of stealing the hoop away.
” She flipped the stick around, then pressed it back between fat, chubby fingers.
“There. Now it will be easier to push, with the flat end. Go—show them you’re quick and clever. ”
The child grinned, missing a front tooth, and darted away, chasing after the others.
Lyrae glanced at me, her gaze soft and searching beneath the shadow of her hood. “This is what I wanted,” she explained. “Even at dusk, they can play without fear, and their parents need not worry where they are, or if they are safe. Because they are watched over.”
She nodded to the top of the steps we’d just come down, to the hulking form of a soldier watching over the street like a watchdog. Even in the dim light, I recognized the wolf symbol marking the front of his breastplate, and he offered Lyrae a shallow nod.
She lifted a hand. “One of my very best,” she explained quietly.
“He lost his family in the war—three sons and a wife—and makes it his personal mission to watch over them every night until they go to bed, so they get their playtime in.” Her lips quirked up.
“I’ve even been told he sometimes runs along, though I have yet to see it. ”
My jaw shifted, my chest feeling like it might just collapse beneath the pressure.
I hadn’t grown up around laughter. There were no children in my life—only a father with an obsession that killed him, and a mother whose only mission was to protect me. I’d learned early that even a child wasn’t spared Gravelock’s many cruelties; in fact, he much preferred small, weak victims.
And I had been his favorite.
She led me through the city, golden faelights igniting in the fronts of shops, in windows, hovering over every street until I felt like we were drifting amongst the stars.
We worked our way down to the lowest level, to a sprawling square where vendors had set up tables under fabric awnings to keep the snow off.
A woman sold ribbons dyed the same pale blue as the banners on the ramparts.
An old man with a scar down his cheek sold golden whistles shaped like Tristan’s wyverns.
Soldiers in dark blue cloaks rubbed their gloved hands together near a frozen fountain, their posture watchful but not tense.
This place was…safe.
I turned slowly, studying how the terraces traced the face of the mountain, the wandering streets connecting each tier, the way the markets and shops populated the lowest level, while the highest were for families.
“It’s meant to protect what’s most precious,” I murmured. “A fortress for the Valarian people.”
“It is,” Lyrae said, watching Fae couples—some, like us, hand in hand—move from table to table beneath the bobbing faelights, holding steaming drinks, like they were in no hurry for this night to end.
The lump in my throat grew tighter as I looked down at her, a quiet yearning squeezing my heart in a way it never had before.
“You rebuilt this. All of this. In only three years. How?” I asked, because the new stone beside the old damage made my chest hurt in ways I didn’t want to examine right now. Everything felt too raw, too fresh, too charged with possibility.
And too ready to slip through my fingers, if I dared to dream too hard.
“We did,” she answered, watching the little market with a smile.
“Anaria is a thief, too, you know. After she stole back her father’s power, she used that magic to drop the walls that separated the three realms, then she rebirthed this entire world.
Forests grew out of deserts, rivers flowed over barren rock, and now we live in a world much like the one your mother described—a paradise that appeared almost overnight. ”
Her smile faded, blue eyes darkening as she said, “But freedom was costly, and this city bore the brunt of the Fae King’s cruelty.
Not all of us survived the war. But those who did…
we refused to let ourselves follow the same path as our ancestors…
so we built something new. The world we wished we’d had, when we were children.
A place filled with love and light and peace. ”
A powerful wave of something washed through me again, filling me with a longing sadness that rolled down my spine, nearly taking me out at the knees.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve wished for anything except revenge,” I murmured, my throat tight and aching. “I used to wish for many things in those early days. For my father to still be alive and stand up to Gravelock. To have someone strong to protect my mother. And me.”
Then he’d taken her, too…
“Eventually, though, it was just me, and once Venmir managed to strip the Shadowlands bare and weld those cuffs on me, fighting became…useless. Then Ryland and Varian stumbled onto my island, and an opportunity presented itself.”
I rubbed my bare wrists, not sure why these words kept pouring out of my mouth.
I couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t stop staring down into her blue eyes, either—so soft and intense in a way that delved all the way to my very soul. Down to the very heart of me, as if she saw every piece of me, and she did not shy away from what she saw.
No, she kept looking, a gentle smile on her face that held no judgment, only understanding.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling so…seen.
So here I was, telling her everything, my heart aching with a yearning I didn’t have words for.
She moved closer, then her palm lay along my cheek, warm and calloused, her blue eyes shifting to the color of moonlight. “You never gave up, Kaden. You fought and you won, and now he is gone and only you remain. That means everything, you know.”
The golden faelights reflected off her eyes, highlighting the faint freckles across her nose, the strand of dark hair curving along her cheek. I’d never seen anything so perfect. Never seen anyone I would have sacrificed my entire future for—given up my birthright for.
But for Lyrae, I would walk away from everything without a second thought.
“This city was only a dream, once. Every part was broken and ruined, the people were frightened. We believed the world should be different.” She shrugged. “So we made it different. You can do the same.”
A gaggle of teenagers loped past, laughing, the boys thumping each other in the ribs. An elderly couple sat near the fountain, sharing one of those steaming cups between them.
No one watched their backs.
No one carried the kind of haunted stillness I’d worn like a second skin my entire life.
“Thank you,” I stepped closer, enough to warm the air between us. Enough to slide my free hand to the small of her back and tug her closer, until our bodies were flush. “For showing me your city.”
She huffed a laugh. “Happy to be your tour guide,” then slid her hand up over my chest, let her palm rest there, like a brand over my heart.
“Thank you for seeing this, Kaden. I mean, really seeing this place, the way I see it. I love it here.” She cast a slow, longing look around.
“It’s one of the only places that has truly felt like home.
I always figured I’d spend my entire life here and be perfectly happy. ”
She was mesmerizing, like a painting, and I stashed this memory of her deep inside, where I could pull it out later and look at it at my leisure. Linger over every last detail—the color of her ice-blue eyes, the way her inky lashes kissed the tops of her high cheekbones.
Something I could keep forever, no matter how the rest of tonight turned out.
Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I kissed Lyrae. Deep but gentle, trying to tell her all the things I had no words for, all the emotions buried so deep in my heart I didn’t know how to begin to dig them out.
Her lips moved against mine, hungry and eager, and I urged them wider, diving my tongue into her mouth, exploring until she moaned, body pressed tight against me, my hard cock grinding against her hip.
In public.
In the middle of the street.
I pulled away, hands cupping her face, breath coming fast. “I’m sorry, that was….”
“Amazing.” She pulled me back down and I was lost, the world fading away as I was consumed by the taste of tangerines and honey, her hot, demanding tongue, the way she softly moaned my name into my mouth, her plush breasts crushed flat against my chest.
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that.
Long enough for one of the guards to clear his throat behind us, for the older couple to shush him.
This was all I wanted. Just this.
Her in my arms, for the rest of eternity.
“Do you want to see the Citadelle?” she asked softly, head pressed to my chest, arms wound around my waist, like she couldn’t bear to let me go. “It’s a long hike back to the top, but we should be there when the others return.”
“I could fly us there,” I murmured against her hair. “All you have to do is picture the spot you want to land.”
“I’d rather walk,” she said, not meeting my eyes, sounding adorably shy. “And hold your hand, if that’s okay.”
I wound our fingers together again before I raised them to my lips and pressed a kiss to each of her fingertips, one by one. Perfect.
She was utterly perfect, and for six of the best hours of my life, she’d been all mine.
“I would like nothing better, princess.”