As the servants came rushing in, Lyana stood in the center of the room, detached from her body as if she were a ghost watching from the corner as her sleeping frock was removed, her hair carefully twisted, her cheeks rouged and her eyelids powdered. She stared at the mirror, unsure who the figure before her eyes was—the dove princess, the raven queen, a broken mix of the two that didn’t seem to work?
Her mating gown was deep onyx at the bottom, shifting to charcoal, then pewter, then pure ivory around the bodice. Diamonds glittered across the wide skirt. Opals glimmered with a rainbow sheen. Pearls studded the top edge, bright against her skin. Her arms were bare. The back of her dress dipped low around her wings, which had been painted black at the edges as a symbol of her transformation. And finally, around her neck, they placed a wreath of her mate's stark obsidian feathers, snug and constricting, like hands around her throat, gripping so tightly she could hardly breathe. Though maybe that was in her head, because in her reflection, the effect was beautiful. Xander’s feathers flared up around her chin, framing her face, and then fanned down, covering the bare skin of her shoulders, slightly longer along her back, as if becoming one with her wings. Just like that she was ready to be mated.
Her heart hammered at the thought, so forceful, so painful she feared she might faint.
“Lyana.”
The sound of his voice caught her off guard, bringing a gasp to her lips as she turned. Xander stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, gently leaning against the frame. He was dressed in black, a mix of formal silks and smooth leathers, regal, the image of a future king, the image of Taetanos himself. A small bundle of her feathers was pinned to his chest with the royal seal hanging right beside them, a dark obsidian ring that somehow still managed to gleam against its midnight backdrop. His lavender eyes were cold, like flower petals frozen on a winter’s day. The sight made her pause.
“Xander,” she whispered, half breathing the word, unable to find her voice. Lyana flicked her gaze toward Cassi, lingering long enough for her friend to shake her head in a silent no, a grimace passing over her features as her focus shifted from one side of the room to the other, from one half of the royal couple to the other.
He pushed away from the frame and stepped into her room. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there, watching her, before he’d decided to make his presence known. The servants scattered, doing their best to become invisible as Xander approached.
“I thought you might want an escort to the carriage,” he said, his voice scratching like the sharpening of a blade, with something dangerous hidden in the tone. “So you don’t lose your way.”
A smile spread across his lips, but it was empty, devoid of all the warmth she’d grown used to. Lyana fought the nausea coiling in her stomach and swallowed. “Yes, thank you. That would be lovely.”
He offered his arm.
She took it.
They left the room together, walking at an easy pace down the hall, unhurried, yet the air was so tense it urged Lyana’s legs to run, her wings to push, her entire body to flee. Xander’s steps, however, remained slow and steady—one, then another, then another, on a fixed beat.
“How was your morning?” she asked weakly.
“Enlightening,” Xander replied smoothly. “Yours?”
Lyana offered him a smile, wanting to ease the tautness in her chest. “A little chaotic, but as you can see”—She motioned toward her gown—“I managed to get ready on time.”
“Are you?” Xander countered. “Ready?”
“Hmm?” The strained sound was the only thing she could get through her lips.
“Are you ready?” he insisted, tone neither light nor heavy, but with enough accents of both to make her uneasy. “Are you ready to make the vows? Ready to be a queen? Ready for all the sacrifices these promises entail? To think of your people’s needs before your own? To do anything for them?”
A soft, uncomfortable laugh escaped her. “Of course, Xander. Isn’t this what we’ve been preparing for our whole lives?”
They reached the door to the courtyard, but Xander stopped within the shadows of the castle. A few yards away, in the bright, gleaming light of the sun, their golden carriage waited, ready to be carted through the spirit gates in a parade that would lead them to the outskirts of the city and the sacred nest beyond.
“Can you promise me, Lyana?” Xander said, taking her hand in his. “Can you promise me that when you say those vows, you’ll mean them? For the rest of our lives? That you won’t break them?”
There was a deeper meaning to his words—one that made her stomach drop and her heart skip a beat.
“I promise,” she said, meeting his gaze and holding it for a few seconds, so he could see the truth in her eyes. The past was in the past, no matter how broken the idea made her feel. There was no Ana. No Rafe. No dreams of different lives and different destinies. Once her vows were spoken, there would only be Lyana Taetanus. Somehow, some way, she’d make sure of it.
Xander dropped his gaze.
His wings and shoulders eased, no longer rigid and hard, as if they bore less of a burden. He let go of her hand to dip his fingers into his pocket. Even in the shade, the emerald in his palm shone brilliantly. Lyana closed her eyes to fight the sting of guilt.
He slipped the ring over her knuckle.
There was nothing to say.
She knew where he’d found it.
He knew she understood.
Today, they’d be joined before the gods, mated for all eternity, so there was no choice but to move on, painful as it was for them both.
Xander strode into the light, his obsidian wings glistening in the sun, and Lyana followed. They climbed into the carriage together. After a few minutes, they were led into the street and greeted by the cheers of their people as their mating parade began. Petals and feathers fell onto their laps as they rode on a leisurely, circular route through every spirit gate in the city. Lyana smiled and waved. Xander did the same. But they didn’t smile at each other. And when she slid her hand across the seat to touch his arm, he jerked away as if burned. The apology churned in the back of her throat, but with so many eyes watching and ears listening, it wasn’t the time. Later, after the vows had been spoken, after promises had been made, maybe she would find the strength to explain, to tell him everything, the whole truth, about who and what she was, who Rafe had allowed her to be. Maybe he’d understand. Maybe he wouldn’t. But he deserved to know.
When they reached the outskirts of Pylaeon, they abandoned the carriage and took to the air, surrounded by guards and following the queen, as they traveled to the sacred nest. Lyana hadn’t been there before, but she knew the way by instinct, something pulling her there, luring her. The feeling she’d had all day strengthened—the buzzing in her veins, the energy in her pulse, the roar in the back of her mind only growing stronger.
They landed by the base of a large tree. Queen Mariam pulled a hidden lever and a doorway appeared in the bark, an opening like the dark, hidden depths of a gaping mouth aching to swallow her whole. Lyana’s body protested, but she followed Xander, mind so consumed by the growing thunder within she could hardly pay attention to the outside world. He led her into the tunnel, leaving the others in the woods to wait for their return.