EDINA POVI wake to soft tickles against my skin—like feathers brushing my arms, my neck, my collarbone.A smile curves my lips before I even open my eyes. I stretch, lazy and slow, my arms sliding above my head. The silk sheets whisper around me. Warm. Heavy. Too soft for my own good.When I finally blink into the room, there’s no feather in sight.No one perched at the edge of the bed watching me with a smirk. No green-eyed menace standing smugly in the corner. Not like I was expecting one.Still.A flicker of disappointment curls in my chest before I shove it aside.I sit up slowly, the velvet covers falling into my lap, and glance toward the windows. The twilight beyond is still unchanged—lavender skies painted with stars, the moon hanging full and pale like a glowing pearl over the distant mountains. The Twilight City below is just beginning to stir, lanterns dimming, rooftops catching the earliest hint of dawn’s haze.My eyes shift to the right, catching movement.A raven sits o
EDINA POVI could barely see another soul in this place.It was too quiet—almost sacred in its stillness. A few steps down the corridor, the sound of my own footfalls against the polished marble felt like an intrusion. Every now and then, I caught a flicker of movement—pixies, tall and lithe with skin like deep midnight, wings transparent as glass. They moved silently, dusting ornate frames, trimming glowing vines, adjusting candle sconces with the precision of ritual.No more than three of them had appeared so far. In a house this large, it was unnerving.Valen’s palace had been teeming—ten people at every corner, always someone watching, whispering, judging. That place had been all light and echoing footsteps and the weight of court expectations.This?This felt like shadow and stone and the kind of quiet you could sink into and never come back out of.I turned another corner, pausing beneath a towering arch. The hallway was carved of pale, veined stone, smooth as silk, almost cryst
EDINA POVIn the blink of an eye, I was standing somewhere else.Gone was the wedding. Gone were the eyes on me, the altar, the spilled goblet of wine soaking into stone.Instead—I stood beneath a massive, ancient oak whose branches stretched like arms across the sky, woven through with hanging moss and strands of star-lanterns that glowed faintly with blue-green fire. Dozens—maybe hundreds—of candles floated midair in a gentle spiral around us, casting golden light against the surrounding stone.Baelorin's estate.Built into the side of a cliff and tree-rooted ravine, it rose like something out of a forgotten fairytale—vaulted arches, ivy-drenched balconies, and twisted ironwork railings. Moss blanketed the walls, softening every sharp corner. Crystal-clear water ran beneath the bridges and footpaths, shimmering under the candlelight like liquid sapphire.It was beautiful.And I hated it.Because it meant I was really here. That this had happened.And worse—he was behind me.Close. C
EDINA POVI don't know if I was imagining it, but Baelorin stood at the end of the aisle now, shadowed in the garden's dim gold and silver light, his face drawn taut with—rage, hurt, possession. The moment our eyes locked, my steps faltered.The golden goblet slipped from my hand with a loud clatter, tumbling end over end before hitting the path. Wine spilled across the stone, a dark crimson arc that soaked into the edge of my silver gown like a wound.Gasps rippled through the gathering.Guards appeared in the hallway, hands resting on the hilts of their weapons, their movements stiff and hesitant. Mumbles rose, low and confused, and I wasn’t sure if they were gasping at Baelorin's audacity or my reaction to seeing him.Valen was the first to move. He stepped down from the raised platform, every inch the High Lord now—shoulders squared, jaw tight. "Baelorin," he said, voice like tempered steel.Baelorin tilted his head slightly. "Valen. How high of you to try to play me. To go back o
EDINA POVGrand flower domes had been erected in the garden. I could see them clearly from the window of my room, glowing softly under twilight’s veil—blush roses, night-blooming lilies, and starlace vines woven into sweeping arches that crowned the aisle like a blooming cathedral.I stood there in silence, my heart pounding like war drums in my chest. One beat for every question that looped through my head. One for every doubt I tried to swallow.And for a fleeting, terrible moment—I wondered if I’d made a mistake.What have I done?Did I like Rhaenan? Yes.He was kind. Gentle. Steady in a world that had spun too wildly out of control. He made me feel safe, and that was more than most had ever given me. He made me laugh sometimes, when I forgot how.But love?Love was something else entirely. Something deeper. Wilder. Something with claws and fire.And yet—just to escape the threat of a man with green eyes like a weapon, I had agreed to this.A pact. A bond. A wedding that felt more
MAERWYNN POV“And if I do this… what changes?”“You’ll be stronger,” Caelora said. “Connected. The Aether won’t just react to you—it’ll answer you. And it won’t split you apart every time you reach for it. Or dissapoint.”“It’ll be yours,” Lira added, more quietly. “Fully. Finally.”I nodded once, unsure if the tremble in my hands was fear… or clarity.Because I’d been asking for this—something. A way to stop being caught in the middle. A way to stop feeling like a spark that could burn me alive at any second.But I didn’t know it would come with a choice like this.A choice to die.I swallowed hard. “What are the redemption rights? To be in the Cidron’s good graces, I mean.”Caelora hesitated. “Well... you’re the Aether. That’s a plus.”“Yeah,” I said bitterly. “I’m the Aether because my kin stole it and fused it into our blood. That’s a crime, not a credential. I don’t think she’ll see that as a charming backstory.”Lira nodded, arms crossed. “Fair point.”“Well,” Caelora said, half