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
MAERWYNN POVI’ve never attended a faerie wedding.Honestly, I never thought I ever would—at least not in this lifetime. But then again, I never thought I’d be dragged into Lyria either. And yet, here I am. Standing in the middle of a garden that feels more like a dream than a place, watching a wedding take shape right before my eyes.Pixies flitted through the air, carrying ropes of flowers and weaving them into sweeping arches along the edge of Valen’s garden. The blooms shimmered softly, shifting colors with the light—lavender, ivory, moonstone blue. It was a blend I’d never seen before, delicate but wild, elegant but untamed. Just like the court itself.The aisles curved in lazy, organic spirals rather than strict rows, and the benches—crafted from twisted silverwood and leaf-carved ends—floated a few inches above the ground as if the earth itself had given them permission to hover.Firelights drifted lazily through the air, glowing like warm stars suspended in the golden dusk, wh
EDINA POVIt’s hard to tell when it’s day or night in the Twilight Court—always hovering somewhere in between, caught in that breathless moment before the sun tips too far or the stars take full command.But when the air cools just enough to sink into your bones and the wind whispers like it’s trying not to wake something—that’s how you know it’s evening.I shift in the satin sheets, stretching slowly. A weight anchors me.Rhaenan’s arm draped across my waist.His body curled around mine like I belonged there.I glance over my shoulder. His lashes flutter faintly against his cheek, lips slightly parted, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. He looked peaceful in a way I hadn’t seen in… maybe ever. All that quiet strength finally at rest.I watch him, silently, wondering how we ended up here so fast—and why it didn’t feel as wrong as I thought it would.I try to slip away without waking him, the sheets rustling beneath me. But the moment I lift my leg, his arm tightens around