Page 161 of The Edge of Darkness

Auren wrapped her arms around my neck, and I took her with me as I sank back onto the bed. Firelight flickered on the black walls and ceiling, glittering like the stars that were strung high above the mountain we lay beneath.

The thrumming of our mating bond now saturated me from within. It was stronger than before, more vibrant, like an entirely new source of energy had settled in its place. That was the oath, written in stone, and sealed in blood. Mating vows were sacred, binding, eternal, made infinitely stronger with an intimate act.

Auren and I were one. Darkness and light had been bound together. And though it sounded impossible, it had never felt more right.

Still sheathed inside her, I caught my breath, and held her tight. I wished at that moment she could feel how badly I wanted to just stay like this forever, wrapped up with her in the depths of the mountain, as if there wasn’t a looming war on the horizon. As if the only responsibility we had was to pleasure one other and spend the interim moments lost in a world of our own.

Duty would come calling eventually, as it always did, so I savored every second, every breath she took, every heartbeat that bled into mine. And when she finally sat up and met my gaze, a pang rocketed through my chest. She’d never looked more beautiful than she did right then, eyes glazed, hair a mess, forehead damp, lips reddened and raw—pulled into the most stunning smile.

My breath caught. “I’m going to love you until my lungs give out. That is a promise.”

She leaned forward to plant a kiss on my lips, but I caught her cheeks in my hands and held her there, slipping my tongue into her mouth. I kissed her like we had all the time in the world. Like the darkness in me wasn’t a ticking time bomb that I’d just somehow temporarily satiated.

I meant every word. I would love her until my lungs gave out. Whether my lifespan was a short or long one, I’d spend every second of it loving her to my fullest ability. Not even the darkness could stand in my way.

“And I will love you,” she said onto my lips. “Forever.”

Her words lingered longer than they should have, the aching reality in them hanging heavily between us. In the end, she would live forever. I would not. Yes, we fae could live for thousands of years, but what was a few thousand compared to an eternity?

I stared back at her and mapped her features like I always did, threading my fingers through her hair.

“Until the end of time,” I said, echoing our vows, knowing just how differently time would move for the both of us.

Morning came, and The Keep was bustling with movement. Breakfast pastries and steaming cups of coffee were enjoyed in abundance as we all congregated and solidified our plans for the next few days. Even Wrynn, Maeson’s beloved fox, was leaping across the furniture, playing a game of chase with Sorscha, who’d taken a particular liking to the energetic animal.

Morah and Fallon were leaving for Benmoor to finalize the takeover that had been enacted in their name. They would secure the palace, deal with Ferhan, and crown Fallon as the new High Lord. Aremis and Maeson would go with them to stand in place of Niall and me, in a show of full support from Calledan.

As for where the rest of us would be in the meantime, that would involve a much damper climate, lots of ale, and creatures I’d never seen before.

We were heading to Vahrenhall.

After we’d vacated our own party last night, Vanir had left a note with Aremis, instructing that those of us coming to his territory bring something festive to wear. We weren’t exactly sure what that meant, but I’d packed a few options that seemed fitting.

The topic of discussion had shifted to our travels, when, in unison, Remic and Silas turned their attention on the main doors to the patio. Niall’s head lifted next, noting something I couldn’t sense.

A moment later, a knock on the large double doors sounded, and Niall waved a hand to open them. To my surprise, Gareth entered.

“Just in time,” Niall casually said, as if it were one of the Trium entering the room instead of the Woodland Court’s tailor.

“I would have been here earlier, but things took a little longer than I’d planned for.” He noted my puzzled stare, and inclined his head to me. “Hello again.”

Niall glanced in my direction, then released a soft laugh. “You have a knack for impeccable timing, Folquin.”

Folq—Folquin?

Before my eyes, the tailor’s body shifted with a brief flash of light, and my mouth fell open as I beheld the familiar face and stature of the messenger I’d come to know.

Niall grinned. “He did tell you he was a shifter.”

“Yes, but he never said he was Gareth! And neither did you!” I exclaimed.

“You were going to find out eventually.”

I stared at Folquin, noting his changed features, his brassy hair, and . . . the ink quill he pulled from the pocket of what had just been Gareth’s robes.

That damned ink quill! I’d missed the small tale-tell sign before. He’d possessed it in both his forms. Perhaps that was the thing that anchored him to himself and reminded him of who he really was. I imagined it would be quite difficult after a while, to remember who you truly were when you lived your life taking on the forms of others.

“Congratulations on your bonding,” Folquin said. “I was very disappointed to have missed the ceremony, but I had to ensure things in Benmoor went smoothly.”