“Now, Selestina, you carry the marrow of the throne. Rise, and let the dead march in your name.”
The pain stops, and the whispers whoosh through the air, engulfing me in their chaos—souls begging not to be taken, others desperate for rebirth, all clamoring to be heard. They swirl, press, and claw at the edges of my mind until I can’t tell where they end and I begin.
“Silence!” I scream so loud the glass vessels shake on the shelves, their contents rattling like bones in a crypt. Azrael helps me to my feet. I’m so overwhelmed I’m shaking. As I rise, my shadows caress me—soothing the pain, quieting the demands of the trapped souls in the catacombs. They quake and quiver in the presence of my power.
Beelzebub turns to face Azrael. “I have held the throne of Shadow and Bone not as your father, but as your brother—keeping its enemies at bay until you remembered who you were. I have restored the balance, so when you reclaim your throne, your echo will stand beside you.”
“Thank you, brother. I’m indebted to you, and I will repay that debt with a favor of my choosing—as a token of both gratitude and trust.” Azrael inclines his head, the gesture sharp and deliberate.
“Come then,” Beelzebub says with a smile. “Let us prepare for the crowning ceremony. “
Chapter 46
Azrael
Our guests—my brothers from each of the uncorrupted Kingdoms—have arrived to witness our coronation and the public consummation of our mating bond. My footsteps are the only sound as they shuffle across the black marble floors while I wait for Mercy to finish dressing. I reach for her through the bond, then pull back at the last moment, afraid she might be different from the woman I fell in love with now that she possesses Selestina.
Which name will she want to go by?
Will she still love me?
What if things change between us?
The questions roll through my head, refusing to release their grip on my focus. At long last, the heavy door gives a faint groan as someone peeks their head out.
Evanthe. “Are you ready?” she asks, her bright lavender eyes glimmering.
Her dainty, elf-like features were crafted by the Fates long ago as a companion for Queen Selestina. Equal parts beautiful and deadly, she was created to guard her soul, guiding her in every lifetime, and teach her to wield the magical gifts she possesses. A living repository of history.
I return Evanthe’s smile nervously and nod. Centuries have passed since we last walked this path together, yet she has my undying trust. All these years, she’s helped Beelzebub keep the Kingdom and its souls safe.
Evanthe swings the door open wider, and out steps Mercy. She looks just as I remember, save for the subtle changes: the glow of her skin, the rhythm of her heartbeat, now endless, her beauty amplified. The two tattoos marking her hand and shoulder are stark reminders of the sacrifices made for me.
I can’t take my eyes off Mercy. The black gown Evanthe dressed her in is seductive and elegant. Thin straps reveal her bare shoulders, and sheer fabric glides over the curve of her breasts dipping low into a provocative V. My eyes travel lower, catching glimpses of skin exposed along her side, below her breasts in the shape of a triangle. I circle Mercy, drinking her in. The back of her dress crosses over her exposed skin in intricate Xs. Unableto restrain myself, I reach out, letting my fingertips trace down her spine to the small of her back, where the material teases and tempts me.
I can’t wait to watch this come off you,I send through the bond, realizing too late that my thoughts slipped free.
Embarrassed, I pull my hand back and continue my slow circle around her until we face each other once more. The sheer fabric of her gown ripples with each movement, teasing and revealing, flowing over the curves of her hips and legs. Finally my eyes land on her bare leg. The dress has a slit that travels all the way up her thigh. Desire coils in me. I want nothing more than to run my hand along that slope and stroke—
“Ehem,” Mercy clears her throat. “Do you like it?” she asks, her voice still hers and unchanged.
The sweet melody is the reassurance I needed to know nothing has changed between us, because true love is impenetrable.
“You look,” I pause, searching for the appropriate words, “remarkably beautiful. The dress is stunning, like it was made for you.”
She blushes. “It was. Evanthe made it. She said you’d like it.”
It’s my turn to feel the burn of embarrassment. How easy to read must I be? I check all my wards, reaching out with my shadows and magic to survey the wards of the entire castle, thenthe entire kingdom. Relief washes over me as I find every rune, soldier, and shield in place.
“Evanthe was correct, my angel,” I answer, offering her my arm.
As she steps forward, it’s then I notice it’s not just the flowing sheer material that moves with her—shadows fall to the ground like a waterfall before curling into tiny streams that disappear and taper off.
Once again, I lose control. My shadows dart for hers, crashing over them like a hungry wave eager to devour them. The moment our shadows meet, a euphoria of pleasure I’ve never felt before ensnares me. Our hearts beat in synchronization, and I can’t stand the idea of pulling back.
This time it’s Evanthe who clears her throat. “Just a reminder that you need to consummate the bond publicly.”
I pull my shadows back, unaware of the obvious—and apparently very public—display of passion.
