Page 63 of Severe Husband Warning

“You have overturned convictions I carried for centuries with remarkable determination.”

A ripple of restrained amusement passes through the gathered court.

“You entered my life seeking protection. I did not expect to discover that I was the one being rescued.”

My vision blurs. This is Rothgar as no court has ever known him, laying bare truths he guarded for centuries. I cannot look away. With every word, another layer of distance falls away until all that remains is the man who chose me…me…long before either of us had the courage to admit it.

“You taught me that stillness is not the absence of feeling. It is simply the place where truth waits patiently to be acknowledged.”

The crystal pulses warmly beside us.

“I vow to remain worthy of the trust you placed in me when you crossed my garden and entrusted your future to a stranger.”

Tears gather quietly, warm against my lashes, and I have to blink to keep them from falling.

Whatever trials still waited beyond this ceremony, I knew without question that I had chosen the right path.

A faint vibration passes through the stone beneath my slippers.

Rothgar’s voice breaks off as he feels it too. The runes circling the ceremonial focus shiver with unsteady light, drawing the attention of everyone nearest the altar.

High Priestess Nyrra’s brow furrows as she studies the crystal.

The tremor returns with greater force, carrying a harsh note that grates against the harmony of the ritual until every instinct in me recoils from it.

The crystal’s steady hum warps into a discordant whine that vibrates through my bones. The warm glow gathered at its center gutters as though struggling to remain alive before a sickly green spreads outward through the crystal, staining every strand of captured lightning.

Uneasy whispers spread through the congregation. As I search for the source of the disturbance, movement near a service passage catches my eye. A robed figure disappears through the doorway in a hurry.

I catch only enough to recognize the measured stride and the embroidered cuff briefly exposed beneath the edge of the cloak before the figure vanishes into the corridor.

Recognition strikes me hard enough to steal my breath. Malakor’s steward, slipping through a service entrance.

I’d seen him often in Malakor’s household, lingering behind his lord with the same look of practiced contempt whenever he spoke to me. Even now, the memory of his smile leaves a bitter taste.

A sharp crack rings through the sanctuary, silencing every whisper. I look back just as a fine fracture splits the crystal’s flawless surface. Before anyone can move, another branches from it, then another, until delicate lines race through the ceremonial focus like lightning trapped beneath glass.

The crystal answers with a shriek so piercing my hands fly to my ears. It carries none of the warmth that had filled the temple only moments before. Instead, it sounds like the storm itself has been wounded, its agony pouring through the fractured crystal until every corner of the sanctuary trembles beneath it.

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ROTHGAR

My hand clamps around Calla’s wrist, and I pull her behind me just as the crystal’s green light swells beyond its shattered confines. Stormlight gathers at my fingertips, summoning a barrier around us strong enough to contain any magical backlash.

They dissolve the instant they meet the corrupted energy. The green radiance devours them without slowing.

The crystal no longer resembles anything crafted for ritual. The sound claws through the mind itself, scraping against memory and thought with unbearable force. Around us, nobles stagger backward. Several priests collapse to one knee, their hands pressed uselessly over their ears.

High Priestess Nyrra continues chanting. Even now, she forces the ancient words through clenched teeth, desperately trying to regain control of a ritual that has slipped beyond any priest's reach.

The cracks racing across the focus brighten. Every fracture fills with poisonous green until the crystal resembles a prison holding lightning that no longer wishes to remain contained.

The fractures spread too quickly for anyone to contain them. Green light surges through every vein of the crystal until the focus tears itself apart beneath the strain, releasing a wave of corrupted magic that engulfs the altar and races outward through the sanctuary.

The shockwave strikes with enough force to drive me back a step despite the strength rooted in my stance. Stone groans beneath my boots. Every torch lining the temple gutters out at once before reigniting in sickly emerald flame.

I draw Calla against my chest, wrapping both arms around her as the corrupted storm reaches us. I brace for the impact against flesh and bone. Instead, the magic passes through every barrier I raise and reaches somewhere infinitely more vulnerable.