Then something happened. The diamond began to heat. Cyrene felt like she was spinning. Except that her feet were on solid ground.
“Almost there,” Vera cried, seemingly yelling over the whirlwind that had picked up between them.
Then a substance shot out of the diamond and straight into the portal erected before them. It was the same shimmery, iridescent material that made up the portal and that Vera had used to kill Malysa. Except this one looked as if it were on fire, burning up the inside of the portal window until all that remained was an opening to a hillside.
One that looked so like the one they stood on…and yet so different.
“The moor,” Vera breathed, tears rolling down her eyes. “Just as I remembered it.”
Cyrene could see the gently rolling hills that Vera had declared the moor. In the distance, she could see a towering white city that rose up to the heavens. It was beautiful, utterly transcendent.
And, for a moment, as she looked at the great world of Domara, the land of the gods, she saw her next adventure. It would be so easy to step through to the other side and see all there was to discover there. Just as Basille Selby was doing. It had been her dream to explore. It called to her. Sang a siren’s song of temptation.
But she knew that she couldn’t.
This was her world. Her responsibility.
And there was no possibility that Dean would follow her through.
And she refused to live without him.
The Domina meant sacrifice and suffering. Maybe this was the last sacrifice. The last great adventure that she had to give up. The dream she had to abandon.
Or maybe it wasn’t sacrifice at all. Maybe it was acknowledging that what she had here, what she’d accomplished…it was enough. It was what she wanted. And Domara was a pipe dream.
The grass always looked greener on the other side. This time…on the moor. But that meant nothing. What she had here was exactly what she had been fighting for. Exactly what she wanted.
So, she turned away from Domara and back to her friend.
“Be safe,” Cyrene said. “And find a way to come back if you can.” She hugged Vera.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Take care of him, too.”
Vera laughed. “If he’ll let me.”
Basille tipped his head at her and then stepped up to Vera’s side. Then, they walked through the portal and onto the moor of Domara. Ameerath flew through the portal overhead of them. Back to her true homeland once and for all. Dean came up and took her hand as they watched them disappear into a new world. Then Cyrene released her hold on her magic in the diamond, and Domara fell away, too.
Gone.
“For a second, I thought you might follow them through,” Dean admitted.
She tilted her head to look up into his endless dark eyes. “For a second, I thought about it.”
He winced.
“But I realized one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re my next great adventure.”
Then, she sealed that promise with a kiss.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
“Are you ready?” Cyrene asked Avoca.
Avoca turned in a slow circle before coming to a stop. “Yes, I’m ready. We’re already married. I shouldn’t be nervous.”
“But this is different. This isn’t you two getting married in the middle of the night in Kinkadia. This is the queen of Eldora marrying her king consort in front of her people.”
“Thank you for that,” Avoca said sarcastically, shaking out her hands. “That makes me feel much better.”
“Your people love you. Ahlvie loves you. This will be perfection.”
Avoca nodded. “You’re right. I’m ready. I’m so ready.” Her gaze slid to her ruined hand. “I wish that I didn’t have this though.”
The black hadn’t spread, just like Helly had said. But it hadn’t diminished any either. In the last three months, Avoca had had several of the other healers look at it. But, short of going to Kinkadia and subjecting herself to more Bryonica healers, nothing more could be done. It wasn’t clear that going to Kinkadia would even help since Helly was the best of the best.
Avoca had embraced the change. She was wearing a sleeveless wedding dress in the soft forest green of her people. The black spreading up from her hand to fan out before it met the green strap on her shoulder. Her mother’s diadem was nestled into her white blonde locks. She looked regal and utterly exquisite. But Cyrene understood why Avoca had wished her hand weren’t deformed. That she had better control. It was as if the limb had been severed, except the darkness had consumed it and they had no idea if it would wither further.
“You look beautiful just as you are,” Cyrene said.
“Thank you,” Avoca said. “It feels silly to wish for something else when we’ve lost so many friends.”
“It doesn’t. It is a piece of you. It’s important.”
“You always know just what to say, Cyrene.”
She smiled. “I was bonded to you for two years. I know where your heart lies. With Ahlvie and your people. Neither care about your hand. It is your head and heart that are more than capable of leading.”
Avoca straightened. “Should we go do this?”
Cyrene nodded. “I think we should.”
“Have you and Dean set a date?”
“Not yet. We’re just too busy getting the academy off the ground. You’ll be the first to know when I do.”
“Good,” Avoca said. “You deserve some happiness after all of this.”
Her eyes watered at the words laced with affection. Then she swallowed back that knot in her throat and walked down the leaf-strewn aisle in the middle of the wooded home of Eldora.
Ahlvie and Dean were at the front of the aisle. Her eyes flicked from one to the other. Ahlvie looked over her shoulder, waiting for his bride. But Dean snagged her attention and held it, admiring her gold dress that shimmered in the dying light on this late October afternoon.
His eyes said everything he couldn’t in that moment. That he couldn’t wait for the moment when she was the one walking down the aisle to him in a white dress. When he could put a ring on her finger and call her his forever. And she felt like maybe it was time. She had mourned long enough. Put all of her energy into running the country and the court and the academy. Maybe she should take some time for herself. For them.
Cyrene stood at the front as everyone else rose to their feet. Avoca slid gracefully down the aisle. The queen of Eldora with all her poise and stunning beauty. She took Ahlvie’s hand with her healthy one, and they turned toward the holy official for the ceremony.
Cyrene barely heard a word that was uttered. Her eyes were locked on Dean’s through the whole thing. Messages being conveyed with no words.
“I do,” Avoca and Ahlvie said together. They laughed softly at having broken tradition, and in some way, that felt right, too.
“You may kiss your bride.”
Ahlvie growled low in the back of his throat. A picture of the beast breaking through as he put his hand on her neck and tugged her close. Their lips met to a chorus of cheers. And Avoca’s cheeks were a soft pink as she turned to face the crowd again.