“What was her name?” I asked.
“Brenna. My oldest brother is named after her.”
Brenna. Itwasher then. The Spirit from my Undertaking who died of illness, who encouraged me to carry on and work toward healing. Emotion clogged my throat as I looked at her and saw how similar she was to Mila. The long platinum braid and steely, angular blue eyes.
Had she known then that those words would push me to come back from the dead for her great-granddaughter? Had she somehow seen us here, months later, in the home of the woman she helped raise?
“Come on, Warrior Prince,” Mila said, resting her head on my chest over where my Bind with Ophelia used to be. “Let’s face our next adventure.”
She pulled me through the sitting room, and as we left, I sent a silentthank youto her great-grandmother for giving me the tools to recognize I had the strength to return from the Spirit Volcano. For showing me I wasn’t alone in my pain, even if everyone’s looked different. For helping me be here today, where—assuming everything went well with her parents—I was going to ask Mila to receive the Bind with me.
And though I longed for quiet, a part of me hoped Mila and I never stopped having these small adventures. That she never lost the warrior heart that shone through the Undertaking portrait her mother had captured, even if our battles were the mundane, daily ones rather than the realm-altering.
As long as it was the two of us facing them together. For every damn tomorrow.
Epilogue
Ophelia
Eight More Months Later
“Are you sure?”I asked for the hundredth time. My heart was pattering in my chest, knees a bit weak at the idea that he may say no this time.
Tolek stopped walking so suddenly, I slammed into his back. Before I could even say sorry, he spun. His hand slipped from where it held mine, thumb tipping my chin up and fingers curving around the back of my neck. He kissed me, and though he’d been doing so for well over a year now, every time was like the first.
My heart somehow sped even quicker, and if I’d thought my knees were weak before, I was wrong. Chills spread along the place where my wings met my back, and I leaned all my weight into him.
Too soon, Tolek pulled back, smiling only an inch away, panting just like I was. The amber specks in his eyes shone brighter than the fire of the Spirit Volcano.
“Does that convince you how certain I am,apeagna?” he asked, and if the kiss hadn’t sealed it, that rough tone of his voice would have.
I swallowed, nodding because my voice was still lost somewhere in the feel of his lips against mine. In the way my entire body woke and hungered for him. That feeling never went away.
“Good,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Now stop asking.”
Needing to be sure, I finally found my voice. “But the first time?—”
“The first time was different. I promise.”
I searched those eyes I knew so well. There was no chance in the Spirit Realm they’d be that bright if he was lying. Tolek may have hidden parts of himself he was embarrassed about for years, but he never lied to me.
And I finally allowed myself to accept the enormity of what we were about to do. It soared through me, my stomach dropping like I was diving through the air on my own wings.
“Okay,” I finally said, biting my lip to fight my grin. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t wait another second, spinning back toward the Merchant Quarter of Damenal.
Warriors crowded the streets on the calm, spring morning, waving hello as we passed by. The sun shone down, warming the cobblestones and calling flowers to tilt their faces up. The scents of fresh pastries baking wound through the markets, hammers hit steel in the distance, and shop owners of every variety threw their windows wide to welcome the day.
You’d never be able to tell that only a year ago, a god had plagued these streets. That there had been constant, thick gray clouds shrouding the glory of the city atop the peeks. That he’d been terrorizing me, too.
Now, the city was revelrous and open. We hosted festivals on palace grounds and tournaments in the local arenas. I wasn’t a prisoner in my own home, but a part of its beating heart once again, knowing warriors on every block by name.
I squeezed Tol’s hand as he pushed open the parlor door, his answering smirk over his shoulder banishing the lingering taint of Echnid that still lifted its head from time to time.
He was haunted, too. The nightmares of what Thorn had done to him were less frequent but still present. The way he seemed to buzz with a hum of the power he’d wrenched from the still-banished Mindshaper during those final moments made him more restless than ever. Not to mention how the strength of the Blackfyre still thrummed through his sword.
But today, that smirk was real.
