Chapter 22 Cyrene #2
“It’s traditional.” Cordelia’s voice came unexpectedly soft. “The joining of two magical lineages in fabric and form. I assume he had it made specially for tonight.”
Beneath the gown lay a delicate silver circlet set with moonstones that gleamed with inner light. Not a crown, but a symbol of status. A statement.
“He’s claiming you before the court,” Cordelia said. “Making it clear where you stand.”
My throat tightened. Even now, when my magic was failing, when I might embarrass him in front of his entire court, Kieran was declaring his choice.
With Cordelia’s help, I dressed. The gown fit perfectly, the fabric cool and fluid as it flowed across my skin. As I smoothed my hands down the skirt, golden light followed my touch, illuminating the silver embroidery from within.
“Well now, isn’t that amazing,” Cordelia cried out, clapping her hands. “The gown is enchanted to respond to your magic.”
I turned to face the mirror, watching the light dance along the patterns. It wasn’t as bright as my usual magic, but it was definitely my signature glow.
“How?” I asked, bewildered. “Everything else I’ve tried to enchant has failed.”
Cordelia adjusted the silver circlet on my head. “Perhaps because this already carries his magic. You’re not fighting alone. As I said, you never have been.”
The thought was both comforting and concerning. I wanted to stand on my own strength, but there was something undeniably powerful about the way our magic blended.
Yet as I studied my reflection, confidence began to build inside me. The woman in the mirror didn’t look uncertain or out of place. She looked regal. Determined. Every bit a queen.
“There she is,” Cordelia said with satisfaction, hovering behind me. “The joy witch who conquered a vampire king’s heart.” Flying backward, toward the ceiling, she paused to look me over. “Are you ready, my dear? Your king awaits.”
I took a deep breath, straightening my shoulders, and nodded.
A knock rang out on the door, and Kieran stepped inside wearing a midnight blue jacket that matched my gown, silver embroidery at the cuffs and collar, plus blue pants, and polished boots. A silver circlet similar to mine rested on his dark hair.
He stopped mid-stride when he saw me, his eyes widening, his lips parting on a silent exhale.
Neither of us spoke. The air between us vibrated with unspoken emotion.
“Well,” Cordelia said with a grin. “I believe my work here is done.” She slipped past Kieran with a knowing smile. “Don’t let him muss your hair before the dance.”
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
Kieran crossed to me, his movements fluid and predatory. “You look…”
“Not bad for a joy witch, right?”
“Breathtaking.” He reached out, his fingers hovering over the fabric at my waist. “I’d hoped the gown would suit you, but this…”
I glanced down, realizing the joy light had brightened as he’d come near. The embroidery now glowed steadily, the patterns shifting.
“It’s responding to us,” I said. “To our magic.”
His hand finally made contact, settling warmly on my waist. “Does that surprise you?”
“Nothing about us should surprise me anymore, yet somehow you always manage it.” I smiled up at him. “Thank you for the gown and the circlet.”
“They’re yours by right. Tonight, there will be no question about your place here.”
The intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. “I’ve been having trouble with my magic. The lanterns—”
He took my hands in his. “We’ll solve that mystery after tonight. For now, focus on the dance.”
“And if my magic fails during the Rite?” The fear I’d been holding back resurfaced. “If I can’t complete it properly?”
“We’ll face what comes together. But your magic won’t fail, Cyrene. Not when it matters most.”
His confidence bolstered mine. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ve felt what happens when our magic connects, and that power can’t be drained or stolen.” He lifted my hand to his lips. “It can only grow stronger.”
The warmth of his breath against my skin sent a shiver through me. “We should go. The court is waiting.”
“I don’t care.” His eyes darkened. “I’m not ready to share you yet.”
He drew me closer, one hand sliding up my back while the other cupped my face. His lips captured mine in a kiss full of promise and possession, sweet yet demanding. I melted into him, winding my arms around his neck.
Our magic flared, gold and midnight blue swirling around us. The gown glowed brighter, the patterns shifting faster.
When we finally pulled apart, both breathless, his eyes had gone almost black with desire.
And my joy lanterns were glowing.
Cordelia swept into the room. “See? They’re working perfectly now. Shall I deliver them to the ballroom?”
“Would you?” I asked.
Kieran peered around, still unable to see her.
“She’s going to take my lanterns to the ballroom for me,” I said.
He bowed, though not in the direction where Cordelia hovered. “Thank you, kind ghost.”
Color blooming in her pale face, she tittered. “He truly is quite charming, isn’t he?”
“He is.”
Cordelia disappeared with a pop, the lanterns with her.
Quandary flew in through the open window, settling on my shoulder with a chirp. You’re both looking very royal tonight.
“He approves of our clothing,” I told Kieran.
“Good. I’d hate to offend our most fearsome ally.” Kieran scratched the little drake under the chin, earning a contented purr. Turning, he offered me his arm. “Shall we go astound the court, my queen?”
The title sent a thrill through me. I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow. “Lead on, my king.”
We left our suite, Quandary flying lazy circles above us as we descended the grand staircase toward the first floor. Music drifted up to meet us, strings and woodwinds playing something both melancholy and hopeful, distinctly vampire in its contradictions.
The closer we got to the ballroom, the tighter my chest became. My gown swirled around my ankles, still glowing softly where our magic met.
Guards stationed along the corridor straightened as we approached. Their eyes widened at the sight of us, and I tried not to fidget under their scrutiny.
As we rounded the final corner, I glimpsed the council members gathered near the ballroom entrance, their heads bent together in conversation. Lady Aragorn’s sharp eyes found mine first, her lips thinning into a tight line before she whispered something to Lord Rathley.
“Apparently, we’re the topic of gossip already,” I said.
Kieran squeezed my hand. “They’ll have much more to discuss after tonight.”
In front of the massive double doors, he paused, turning to face me. The torchlight caught the silver in his circlet, casting shadows across the sharp planes of his face.
“Ready, wife?” He extended his hand, palm up. “They’ll expect us to dance the moment we’re announced.”
I placed my fingers in his, savoring the familiar spark of our connection. “For better or worse, husband.”
The guards rushed forward, pulling the doors open, and inside, a herald’s voice rang out: “His Majesty, King Kieran Nightblood, and Her Majesty, Queen Cyrene Moonwhisper Thornwick Nightblood.”
The crowd parted, revealing an empty dance floor.
We strode out onto the smooth marble surface.