Table of Contents

NOTICES

ALIEN GOD

CONTENT WARNINGS

Stone Sky God Name Pronunciation Guide

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER TWO | Wylfrael

CHAPTER THREE | Torrance

CHAPTER FOUR | Torrance

CHAPTER FIVE | Torrance

CHAPTER SIX | Wylfrael

CHAPTER SEVEN | Torrance

CHAPTER EIGHT | Wylfrael

CHAPTER NINE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER TEN | Torrance

CHAPTER ELEVEN | Torrance

CHAPTER TWELVE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER THIRTEEN | Torrance

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | Wylfrael

CHAPTER FIFTEEN | Torrance

CHAPTER SIXTEEN | Wylfrael

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | Torrance

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | Wylfrael

CHAPTER NINETEEN | Torrance

CHAPTER TWENTY | Wylfrael

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | Torrance

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | Wylfrael

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR | Torrance

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX | Torrance

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN | Wylfrael

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT | Torrance

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER THIRTY | Torrance

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO | Torrance

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE | Torrance

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR | Wylfrael

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE | Torrance

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX | Torrance

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN | Wylfrael

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT | Torrance

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE | Torrance

CHAPTER FORTY | Wylfrael

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE | Torrance

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO | Wylfrael

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE | Torrance

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR | Wylfrael

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE | Torrance

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX | Wylfrael

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN | Torrance

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT | Torrance

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE | Torrance

CHAPTER FIFTY | Wylfrael

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO | Torrance

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE | Wylfrael

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR | Torrance

NOTICES

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, used, transmitted, or shared via any means without express authorization from the author, except for small passages and quotations used for review and marketing purposes.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and incidents in this novel are fictitious and not to be construed as reality or fact.

Alien God Copyright © 2023 Peace Weaver Press Inc. President Veronica Doran

ALIEN GOD

Brides of the Stone Sky Gods

Book One

By Ursa Dax

CONTENT WARNINGS

For a complete list of content warnings, please see my website.

Stone Sky God Name Pronunciation Guide

Wylfrael – WOLF-rye-elle

Maerwynne – MARE-win-nuh

Skallagrim – SKAH-la-grim

Rúnwebbe – rune-WEB-buh

Sceadulyr – shay-AH-doo-leer

Cynewylf – KOO-nuh-wolf

Heofonraed – hay-OFF-enn-rad

Sionnach – SIGH-on-nock

Vizhiri – viz-JHEER-ee

PROLOGUE

The stone sky god Cynewylf found his mate, a Sionnachan woman named Sashkah, during the deadliest Sionnachan snowstorm in a hundred eons. But despite the breathless howl of the wind and the drowning drifts of snow that made his steps heavy and numbed his wings, he felt no cold. He felt only the blood-boiling fever, the starburn that consumed him, at the discovery of his fated one after an immortal lifetime of searching. At long last.

When he claimed Sashkah as his love, his mate, his destiny and only desire, his immortality was snuffed out like a star getting swallowed by the tender dark. It happened to every stone sky god when they claimed their mate – the agonizing, beautiful, and inescapable shortening of their lifespan to match that of their mortal love.

It was then that Cynewylf understood why only mated gods could serve on the Council of the Gods in the hallowed halls of Heofonraed. Why the gods with mortal brides were considered the wisest, to be held in esteem above all others.

Because immortality made even the best of men into fools.

Too much time to waste.

Too much time to ruin.

Too much time to fix it all, to build it all up – a world, a universe – and to ruin it all again.

True wisdom came to Cynewylf, as it had to every mated stone sky god before him, when he became mortal in the embrace of his bride. Finally, he understood. Understood that everything could fall apart.

Even him.

When Sashkah bore him a son, a glorious new stone sky god they named Wylfrael, Cynewylf felt the merest flicker of his old, boundless life inside him, brushing at the back of his skull like a feather fallen from the wing of his own long-dead father. In his immortal child Wylfrael, he saw the star-tipped sprawl of the universe that had once been endlessly his. He saw love, like that he held for Sashkah. And the death such love would bring.

His wisdom deepened. And so too did his pain.

Because in that wisdom, he had learned the sharpest and oldest truth of them all, the kind of truth that could break even the heart of a god:

The things we are born to love the hardest are always the things that die.

And when they die…

They kill us, too.

CHAPTER ONE

Wylfrael

With my cousin Skallagrim’s fingers around my throat, I smashed through the stone of the sky and plunged into the world of the gods.

Heofonraed.

The home of the Council of the Gods – the only stone sky gods powerful enough to help me now.

I needed them to capture and bind Skallagrim.

He should have found her by now, I thought, grimacing as Skallagrim’s weight drove me down into the pearlescent stone of Heofonraed. He should have found his mate. Mate-mad.

Brideless immortality unwound even the staunchest, most stable stone sky god’s brain eventually. All stone sky gods were susceptible to going mate-mad.

But not all of them had berserker blood like Skallagrim.

That berserker blood was beating hard within him now. Making him faster, stronger, more brutal, more brutish, than before. His weight was immense upon me – a mountain of green and gold scales, broken up by the flashing of white fangs in his snout and the fury of his remaining eye. One of his eyes had been ruined during our fighting, though I could not pinpoint when.

“Let me go, Skalla,” I choked out, scrabbling at the fingers that threatened to crush my throat. His snout gleamed as he snarled in my face. Though we were cousins, our fathers being brothers, we looked little alike. Skallagrim took after the snouted, scaly Bohnebregg berserkers on his mother’s side, while I had features from my Sionnachan mother. We both had wings, as all stone sky gods did, and star maps. But that was largely where our physical similarities ended.

Unfortunately, I was the smaller of the two of us. Strong, like all stone sky gods were strong, but weaker than my cousin, especially in his fevered rage. My last clash with him had nearly killed me, and I’d spent the stars knew how long slumbering under the sand-battered mountains of another world, trying to regain enough strength to face my cousin again and to bring him here, before the council. I’d finally woken and managed to drag him to Heofonraed through the stone sky door. But we weren’t finished yet.

I need to get him into the hall.

I jerked in Skallagrim’s grasp, my wings trapped and shuddering beneath me, pinned behind my back to the stone. This was bad. I’d let him gain the upper hand, and I was still weakened from our last battle and opening the stone sky door into Heofonraed.

Surely the council must know we are here. We are right outside their gates!

Even beyond the bulk of my cousin’s body, I could see the Eaforswynne – the two massive horned boars that stood guard at the base of gates so high the tops became a blur among pale and shifting clouds.

Using every bit of strength I had, I smashed my fist upward into Skallagrim’s injured eye. He howled. Silver-white blood, the same colour as my own, poured from the wound. I used that sliver of a moment, his distraction, to loosen his grip around my neck. My wings pushed against the stone of the ground, and before Skallagrim could pin me again, I launched into the air, dragging my cousin up with me.

“I call upon the Council of the Gods to open the gates!” I shouted as my cousin fought me. “You must bind Skallagrim!”

The Eaforswynne watched me from below, their red eyes rolling further upwards in their great white heads to keep us within their view. But otherwise, they did not move.

And neither did the gates.

“Cursed stars,” I hissed as my grip on Skallagrim faltered. He wrenched away, dark green wings beating hard. His star map lit up the spaces between his scales, golden, like cracking sunlight. The veins of that light webbed over his torso and along the gargantuan spread of his wings, the same way mine did, but gold where my star map was blue. A tumble of tangled black hair whipped around his face as his wings beat mercilessly.

“End your rampage, Skalla,” I rasped, hoping against hope that there was still some shred of sanity in there somewhere. Once, Skalla had been my dearest friend. Once, he had been clever and charismatic, beloved among both his mother’s people and the stone sky gods. I could still see him, beautiful and powerful, a prince grinning on the banks of the largest Bohnebregg river, his hair bound in a sleek braid adorned with the loving sheen of the setting sun.

But that Skalla was not this Skalla. I did not know the beast before me. The beast who’d already tried to kill me once and who’d smashed his way through untold worlds since then.

A desperate sorrow pierced me when I realized there would be no calling him back from the brink now.

I turned my attention from my cousin, hoping that the gates had opened and cursing murderously to see that they remained closed.

“Open the gates!” I bellowed. I barely got the last word out before Skallagrim caught me in his claws, dragging me back down to the sleek stone below. I beat my wings furiously, trying to remain aloft, knowing that the next time Skallagrim got me beneath him, I’d be doomed.

But it was little use. My beautiful, broken cousin was too strong. He’d kill me and I’d really die this time, bleeding out on the white stone of Heofonraed.

I reached for the shining, carved stone of the gates as Skallagrim’s weight bore me faster and further downward. Pain lanced up my tail, my spine. It felt as if I were being torn in two. My wings pulling me upward with all their strength while Skallagrim clutched at my waist, claws slicing, yanking me back down.

We hit the ground with a terrific smash, landing between the Eaforswynne. The giant boars snuffled and snorted, angry with how close we’d gotten to the gates when their masters so clearly would not open up to us.

Why will they not open? I asked myself dizzily as Skallagrim once again seized my throat in his brutal grip. The Council of the Gods was supposed to be open to the petition of any stone sky god who needed help or guidance. And they were the only ones strong enough to restrain a god gone mate-mad.

So why would they not answer me?

I got no reply. Not from the Eaforswynne. Not from the gate – so close and so closed that it seemed to mock me. Not from the silent stone sky council, hidden in their halls. Not from Skalla, either. My cousin scraped his knees along the stone on either side of my chest, bearing down on my throat with all his strength. I clawed at his shoulders, his neck, his once-regal face, but his scales deflected my weakening claws. I scratched at his bleeding eye, but he seemed past the point of pain now and did not let go. His other eye was fixed on me, burning and bright. The only thing I could see. The only thing left as everything else went dark…

Until it was gone. I gasped as the pressure at my throat instantly eased. Someone had pulled Skallagrim off of me. Relief mingled with regret swept over me as I forced myself up into a standing position. Relief that the council had finally heeded my calls and opened the gates to help me. And regret at the fact I’d now likely never see my cousin again.

But…

The gates had not been opened.

A lone male restrained Skalla. I could not see him well – he stood behind Skallagrim, and though he was about as tall, Skallagrim was broader, blocking my view. But even so, I recognized the arm looped around Skallagrim’s neck, muscles straining beneath black hide interspersed with the glowing stars and veins of a magma-coloured star map.

Maerwynne.

I still did not understand why the council had not opened the gates. But I did not allow myself to stand idle for long. Maerwynne was a powerful stone sky god, but, like me, he was no match for Skallagrim alone.

But between the two of us…

Between the two of us, maybe we’d be able to finally kill him.

It was what I’d wanted to avoid. It was why I’d used all my strength to drag Skalla here in the first place. To bind him instead of end him.

But he was already overpowering Maerwynne.

And I had no choice but to attack him with everything I had. I flew at my cousin, snarling and striking as he shoved Maerwynne away. Maerwynne jumped back into the fray immediately, trying and failing to catch Skallagrim’s heavy, smashing limbs. One of those limbs – the boulder of his fist, it turned out – connected with my temple and sent me reeling. I staggered, righting myself just in time to see Maerwynne thrown against the white stone so hard a crack formed beneath the black and red lines of his body.

A mere moment later, Skallagrim was in the air, throttling upward, fist rising.

No!

I knew what he was doing.

“He’s going to open a sky door!” I need not have bothered saying it. Maerwynne knew it already. He launched into the air, and I followed, my weary wings straining.

But we were both too slow. The sky turned dark and opaque ahead of Skallagrim, hardening into stone. Skallagrim brought down his fist against it, cracking it with a catastrophic boom. The door was open now – a wide, dark crack in the stone of the sky. Without a glance back, Skalla hurled himself inside.

Before we could reach the door, the stone began to disintegrate, ebbing away like the vestiges of a half-forgotten dream dissipating into dawn.

“No!” I roared, clawing at the shimmering mist, all that remained of the stone sky that had been so solid just a heartbeat before. “Maerwynne, open another. I’m too weak.”

If we opened another door now, before Skallagrim’s power faded completely from the air, we’d be able to track him to whichever world he’d fled to. But if we waited too long, the lingering traces of his path across the stars would be lost.

I ground my fangs when I realized Maerwynne was not moving to open a sky door.

“Maerwynne,” I growled, my voice laced with deadly fury. At this point after the battle, Maerwynne was much stronger than I was. And I had no right to threaten him. But I couldn’t let Skallagrim escape. Not now. “Open the sky door.”

Maerwynne’s eyes met mine. The red within black of his gaze reminded me so much of twin crescent moons, two curving scarlet slashes in each dark eye, their tips meeting at the top and bottom, creating deep black pools in the middle.

“You have been gone a long time, Wylfrael,” Maerwynne said slowly. “I have much news to share.”

“News can wait!” I snapped. Who knew where Skalla had ended up? Who knew how much damage he was doing already? He should have found her… He should have found her by now!

“I do not think so,” Maerwynne said. His voice was even, but I was not so stupid from my wounds to miss the hardened edge of warning there. “Things have come to pass that make Skallagrim the least of your concerns.”

“My mate-mad cousin nearly killing me, twice, and then going on a bloody, berserker rage through the cosmos is the least of my concerns?” I scoffed. “You must take me for a fool.”

“I do not.”

I stared at Maerwynne in disbelief. Our wings held us aloft, making us into mirror images of each other. Maerwynne’s star map was a different colour than mine, flame-like against the darkness of his black hide, but its shape was identical. Since we were currently on the same world, our star maps showed the same thing, the constellations stretched over our bodies in the exact same positions, reminding us where we stood in the universe.

Except…

Except, our star maps weren’t the same. The stars that should have glowed on his lower left arm, the way mine did, were gone.

He caught the direction of my gaze and raised his left hand in the air between us. His mouth twisted in a mirthless smile as he closed his starless fist.

“You have been gone a long time,” he said again, softly this time. So softly I barely heard it.

Dread hardened in my guts as I tried to figure out just what it meant that a stone sky god’s star map had started going dark.

“Tell me, Maerwynne.” There was no hope of following Skallagrim’s trail at this point. I would have to regain my strength and try to track him down another way. But for now, I needed to know what had happened to Maerwynne. What had happened everywhere, to everyone, since I’d been gone, recovering under the red mountains of a far-flung world. “Tell me everything.”

CHAPTER TWO

Wylfrael

Maerwynne and I descended to the immaculate white stone of Heofonraed. Well, immaculate except for the crack that had opened up under the force of Maerwynne’s body being flung upon it. If I ignored the crack, looked only at the smooth white, I could almost pretend I was descending upon the winter snow of Sionnach. My mother’s world. The world I’d occupied until Skallagrim had crashed through the sky in his delirious rage and forced me into battle so long ago.

I may not have stopped him yet. But at least I saved Sionnach…

But this was not Sionnach. We landed in front of the gates, the Eaforswynne watching with their silent red eyes.

“Why does the council not open the gates?” I asked bitterly, studying the impenetrable white. If they had simply opened their gates, used Heofonraed’s power to help me, as was their duty, then Skalla would be bound. He’d be safe, along with the rest of the cosmos.

“They will not open to us. They will not hear any petition now.”

I whirled on Maerwynne.

“What are you talking about?”

The whole purpose of the Council of the Gods was to govern and assist the stone sky gods. They were the only ones with access to Heofonraed’s full power – power that was supposed to be used to answer petitions. Petitions like mine.

Maerwynne raised his starless hand again, staring at the extinguished star map. Now that I was closer to him, I could still see remnants of the map that had been there. Dark greyish marks. Scars where there should have been stars.

“It’s the star-darkness. They fear it will spread to their halls. They will allow no unmated god inside.”

“Star-darkness…”

Maerwynne stretched his hand out, his palm in front of my face.

“Star-darkness. This.”

I looked at my own palm, glowing with my star map. Just like Maerwynne’s should have been, but wasn’t.

“What is it?” I let my hand fall, and so did Maerwynne.

“I do not know. When my stars started going dark, I went to see Rúnwebbe. To see if she had answers.”

Rúnwebbe. The whisper weaver. Older and wiser than any stone sky god.

“And?” I pressed.

Maerwynne grimaced. His wings, deep red, gave an uneasy sort of flicker, making his long crimson hair shift behind his shoulders.

“She did not know what it was, nor where it came from. She did have other whispers for me, though. She told me that it was spreading among the mateless stone sky gods. She told me that Sceadulyr’s star map has completely gone out. He is trapped, now, in his Shadowlands palace.”

“Trapped?” I echoed, feeling suddenly off-balance. Maybe it’s the blood loss. I folded my wings and sat heavily upon the shimmering ground. I frowned down at my torso, slick with silver blood coursing from wounds inflicted by Skallagrim.

“Trapped,” Maerwynne replied flatly. “Every place that goes dark on your star map is a place you can no longer open a sky door to.”

I was glad I had seated myself. Because otherwise, Maerwynne’s words would have toppled me.

A stone sky god who cannot open a sky door?

It was unheard of. Impossible.

Maerwynne was no longer looking at me. He gazed at the gates of Heofonraed, his face unreadable, his star-dark hand opening and closing, over and over.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

His fist clamped tight and stayed that way.

“No,” he replied, turning his black and red gaze back to me. “I feel nothing there, Wylfrael.” His voice caught strangely in his throat. “Nothing.”

I swallowed hard, looking down at my own hands, arms, chest, places that thrummed with the soft murmur of the star map’s power. I opened my wings and twisted, inspecting them. In a movement roughened by clumsy haste and blood loss, I stood, yanking off my Sionnachan leather trousers. I stood naked under my own fierce inspection. I was aware that Maerwynne was inspecting me as well, no doubt looking for the same thing I was. Any sign of star-darkness.

At least for now, everything seemed right with my star map. The blue flickers of the constellations glowed along my legs and across my groin as they always had. I fixed my trousers while Maerwynne turned his face from me. Not before I saw a strangled sort of emotion upon his features. I could not tell if it was envy or relief.

“You say this is spreading among mateless gods?”

“Yes,” Maerwynne said.

“Why then does the council block our entry? They should not be susceptible.” The Council of the Gods was comprised only of mated, mortal gods. It had always been so. Losing their immortality meant they acted with greater care, because they were more keenly aware of death and destruction. And because they died the moment their mortal mates did, it meant no god served too long a term and became entrenched in his power and place.

“I do not know,” Maerwynne said. “I am here for the same reason you are. To petition the council. I wanted to speak to them about the star-darkness, find out what they can do to stop it. I did not believe Rúnwebbe when she told me the council would not open their gates. I was flying up, trying to reach the top of the gates, trying anything to get them to open to me. That is when you and Skallagrim came through the sky door and I heard you calling.”

“This is unacceptable!” My roar caused the Eaforswynne to toss their bulky heads in warning. I ignored them, pointing a furious finger at the gates. “They are the only ones with access to the Heofonraed power of the stone sky relics!” They were supposed to use that power for the good of all of us, not hoard it.

“While they will not hear general petitions, they will allow mated gods to put themselves forth as candidates for the council.”

I sighed, lowering my hand.

“So, the only way to understand what is going on behind that gate and to talk to any of them is to be voted in by the current council?”

“It appears so.”

“Who is on the council now? Gunnarwyr?” I scowled, trying to remember the names of the other gods on the council before Skallagrim had sent me into my near-death slumber.

Maerwynne’s red eyebrows rose.

“Stone of the sky, no. He and any other council members you may remember are long dead. You have been gone for many mortal generations, Wylfrael.”

I tensed, letting out a harsh breath between my fangs. I’d had no sense of how long I’d been recovering after my last run-in with Skalla.

That means that every Sionnachan I knew, everyone I fought to protect from Skalla’s rage, is dead now.

Maerwynne kept speaking, and I fought to focus on his words through a clutching haze of grief.

“The current council members are gods I do not know. They are named Aelfsige, Beorht, and Paega.”

I inhaled and pushed my pain away. I watched Maerwynne expectantly, waiting for him to name the rest of the council.

He didn’t.

“Only three?” I asked, startled. I could not ever remember a time that there were less than seven gods on the council. Only three? How is that possible?

“Several newly mated gods have applied to join the council. None of them have been successful. I do not know what has happened to them since then.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered. “You’re telling me that since I’ve been asleep, everything has started to fall apart.”

“There is some hope,” Maerwynne said, though I heard little of that hope in his tone of voice. “There is apparently a cure for the star-darkness. Rúnwebbe told me she’d heard whispers of one stone sky god who found his mate. His star map returned.”

“Have you confirmed this?” I asked sharply.

Maerwynne’s wings shuffled.

“No,” he said. “He was one of the recent applicants to the council. I have heard no news of him since then.”

I grunted, dragging my fingertips through my hair. My head was beginning to ache.

“So, what are you doing wasting your time here with me, Maerwynne? You should be out there finding your mate. Before…”

Before all your stars go dark and you have no hope of finding her at all.

“That is my goal,” he said, his voice hardening with determination. “I will find her. And then I will apply to join the council and find out what is going on in there.”

We both turned to look at the gates once more, neither of us speaking aloud the ominous truth that lingered under Maerwynne’s declaration. The truth that he could go entirely star-dark, or mate-mad, before he ever found her.

“There is one more thing I must tell you, before I go,” Maerwynne said. “I fear I should have started with this news, but I knew you’d want to leave immediately once I told you, and you would not stay to hear the other things I had to say.”

“What is it?” My heart rate increased, every sense focused on Maerwynne and whatever truth he’d left until now to tell me.

“Rúnwebbe told me that a fourth race has achieved star travel.”

I did not think Maerwynne could have shocked me any more than he’d already done. But he had. The only ones who could travel the cosmos were stone sky gods, our uneasy allies the warlords of Riverdark, and our enemies the Tvarvatra.

“Who are they?” I hissed.

“Rúnwebbe calls them human,” Maerwynne replied. “Like the Tvarvatra, they do not travel with their own power but rather in machines. They are weak, but they are clever. They can use their machines to kill. And they are thieves. They plunder the worlds they find.”

“So why wait to tell me that?” It was important information, certainly, but it seemed less pressing than Skalla’s rampage, the star-darkness, and the disturbingly cloistered council. I did not see why such news would make me leave here with haste.

“Because, Wylfrael,” Maerwynne said gravely, his wings drawing around him like a scarlet shield, perhaps to protect himself from the explosive fury I felt at his next words. “These humans have landed on your world. They have invaded Sionnach.”

CHAPTER THREE

Torrance

“Shit.”

My rock hammer glanced off the crystal, sending a too-small jagged chunk thudding into the deep snow around my shins. I blew out a frustrated sigh. My breath seeped into my face and neck warmer, hot and damp against my skin. I risked a glance over at Major Corey. He stood nearby in his US Army winter uniform, a parka and snowpants with a pale grey and white camo pattern. It contrasted with the snowsuit I wore – pure white – marking me as a civilian. Luckily, it didn’t look like he’d noticed I’d fucked up. Again.

“Don’t get frustrated. It makes it harder.”

Suvi’s calming, Finnish-accented voice drifted quietly over to me. She was doing the same thing I was just a metre away to my right, her own rock hammer in her gloved hand. When I looked at her, it was almost like looking at myself. All the civilian women looked the same in our snowsuits. Covered head-to-toe in white, with white-framed protective dark goggles. It was only the nametags we wore, and the voices I’d grown to know so well, that differentiated us out in the field like this. But beneath her snowsuit and goggles, I knew she was looking at me with kind, dove-grey eyes, white-blonde hair under her hood.

“I don’t know. When I get frustrated, I find it actually makes the job easier.”

That remark came from Min-Ji, who was on my left. The three of us had been ordered to work together in this small patch of snow-drenched forest. The rest of the crew, and the other women who’d been dragged here with us, were doing similar work closer to the ship that had brought us to this planet and now served as our home base.

“The trees are lucky you don’t punch them, then,” Suvi teased. I couldn’t see her smile under her white neck warmer, but I could hear it in her voice.

I heard a similar smile in Min-Ji’s reply. She dropped her hammer into the soft, deep snow, and raised her fists to her face, pretending to jab at the tree she’d been working on. She’d been a boxer back on Earth. Before.

Before we’d been taken.

“Fists down and back to work, Park!” Major Corey barked from his post.

Min-Ji dropped her hands, but her fists didn’t unfurl for a long moment.

“I’d love to get one good hit on him,” she muttered before bending to retrieve her hammer. She had to dig a little, since the snow was up to our knees.

“You too, Harju!”

Suvi let out a short sigh at the command then turned back to her work.

“And you, Hayes!”

“It’s Torrance,” I hissed to myself. I hated when Major Corey and the rest of the military crew – the crew who’d abducted us – called me by my last name. Like we were soldiers to be commanded. We weren’t their soldiers. We were civilian academics, most of us scientists.

But maybe it’s better that way. It’s not like any of them really know you, anyway. They hadn’t earned the right to use my first name. That right was reserved for the other women here who were in the same shitty situation as me. Knee-deep in snow on an alien planet none of us had signed up to visit.

I turned my attention back to my tree. It still felt weird to call this a tree. It was a monolith of glittering facets, more crystal than plant. It was generally conical in shape, a massive but slender mountain made of shining, emerald-green stone. But according to Suvi, the botanist of the group, these massive crystalline structures really were alive. And they filtered carbon out of the atmosphere more than two hundred times more efficiently than trees on Earth. We were supposed to be carefully chipping away chunks from the trees to be studied on the ship.

Min-Ji had no trouble with the task. She was a geologist and was used to hacking away at rocks and gems, plus she had impressive upper-body strength from her boxing back home. Even Suvi, with what I knew were delicate hands and willowy wrists under her gloves, had mastered the technique. She had the unique knack of finding invisible fault lines in the trees that meant her hammer struck gently but efficiently, sheering away perfect crystal chunks.

But me? I wasn’t a geologist who could punch through a wooden plank or somebody’s nose, or a botanist who was basically an alien tree whisperer. Nope. I was an astrophysicist. I was used to looking at charts and computing mathematical sequences and stargazing.

“Hayes!”

I jumped, startled from my thoughts by Major Corey’s irritated call from nearby. I glanced back, eyeing the machine gun slung across his torso. I wonder if they’d actually shoot one of us if we fucked up bad enough?

“Sorry,” I mumbled, keeping the sarcastic bite out of my voice. I tucked my hammer under my armpit and rubbed my gloved hands together. “Just gotta warm up and get back into it.”

Major Corey clomped closer. I stumbled back against my tree, suddenly afraid he really was about to get physical with me. No one had gotten shot on this mission, but I’d seen other women get roughed up and put in the ship’s brig. And, of course, we’d all been drugged and violently taken from Earth in the first place. Abducted and taken to an alien planet. Isn’t it supposed to be aliens doing the abducting? Not your own fucking people!

My jaw worked, my heart pounding as Major Corey came to a stop before me. I stared at the American flag stitched onto his military parka. Our particular mission was largely run by the US military, but governments from all over the world were apparently in on this project. Hell, Suvi had been taken out of her bed in Finland, and I’d been snatched from Northern Ontario. Min-Ji had lived in Vancouver before this.

I could sense Min-Ji tensing up nearby. From the side, I saw her gripping her hammer harder, weighing it in her hands, as if figuring out if she could throw it hard and reliably enough to knock Major Corey out.

Don’t do it, I begged silently. The last thing I wanted was to see her in cuffs thrown into the brig. Just let him be an asshole and be done.

“Don’t like the cold, Hayes?” Major Corey sneered. “Maybe we send you to the sand planet next time.”

I shivered, and it wasn’t from the chill in the air. The higher-up military liked to keep a tight wrap on what was going on with other missions – other missions just like ours. Ships of abducted scientists being sent out all over the cosmos to try to find resources we could study to use on Earth. But we all knew what a threat about the sand planet meant. There had been enough whispers, enough snatches of gossip, to know that the ship to the sand planet had been destroyed by alien monsters the moment it had landed. The crew had all been killed, and the women had been taken prisoner by violent alien male hostiles. I didn’t know what had happened to them after that, but it was pretty easy to assume they’d been raped, maybe even murdered. It was a stark reminder of why the military only used female civilian scientists for these projects.

Honestly, getting shot is probably a better fate than that.

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” I said. I was speaking more to Min-Ji and her hammer than Major Corey, but it did the trick. He made an unconvinced noise, then trudged back to his spot to watch us like he’d done all morning.

“Alright everybody,” he snapped, hand resting on his gun. “No more stupid shit. Get back to fucking work.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Torrance

“Man, weather like this makes me want Korean food so bad,” Min-Ji moaned as she bent to retrieve a crystal shard she’d just sheered off her tree. “I’d kill for a bowl of my mom’s kimchi-jjigae right now.”

“That sounds good. What is it?” Suvi asked, aiming her hammer precisely and striking off an impressive hunk. Unlike my green tree, hers was a pale lavender colour. Min-Ji’s was pink. We’d been working tirelessly on our trees since Major Corey had snapped at us a couple of hours ago and had been largely silent until Min-Ji had just spoken.

“It’s amazing is what it is,” Min-Ji replied. She tossed her crystal into the bin we were all using. “Like a stew basically. With pork and spicy fermented cabbage. It’s so good on a cold day.”

“I’ll take a bowl,” Suvi replied wistfully. “Along with a cup of glögi. Spiced mulled wine,” she explained before we had to ask what the Finnish word meant.

I smiled behind my neck warmer. This was a game we often played to pass the time. The game didn’t have a name, or rules, but it was something we all instinctively gravitated towards. Talking about the things we missed, the best parts of our lives back home. Living on military rations on the ship meant that the game often revolved around food.

“Maybe I’m boring, but I just want a really good burger, you know?” I said.

Min-Ji groaned in agreement.

“Fuck yeah. Burger. Kimchi-jjigae. Wine. Sounds like a perfect, balanced meal. I could eat that forever.”

“No salad?” Suvi teased.

“Hey!” Min-Ji shot back. “Aren’t you supposed to be a friend to the plants? You love them so much I figured you’d want me to eat less salad, not more. Besides, the kimchi counts. And throw some lettuce on the burger and you’re golden.”

“It’s precisely because I love the plants and study them so closely that I know how good they are for you,” Suvi laughed. Her chuckle was punctuated by the tinkling sound of her next crystal shard falling into the bin. I tried to ignore the fact that the bin was mostly full of sparkling purple and pink, with only a few bits of dark green peeking out.

“Nah, I’m sticking to my guns on this one. Salad can fuck right off,” Min-Ji said. “Meat. Kimchi. Booze. That’s all you need in life. The three essential food groups.”

The three of us broke into snorting laughter. It felt good to laugh with friends like this. As if things were almost… Normal.

I could practically taste the burger I’d mentioned. Smoky and cooked to perfection. I’d long since moved south to study and then work at the University of Toronto, but I visited my dad up in Thunder Bay whenever I could. He always got the smoker going for me as soon as I arrived. If it wasn’t burgers, it was steak, pulled pork, brisket…

My mouth watered.

So did my eyes.

The last time I’d gone to Thunder Bay was the first time I’d been there without him. The first time since he’d died. The memory was so fucking painful, a wound that wouldn’t heal, because I never got any real closure. I never got to spend time in my childhood home, his home, to say goodbye to him. I never got that chance because men dressed all in black had knocked me out, drugged me up, and dragged me away as soon as I’d gotten my key in the front door’s lock after the funeral. It had been two months since that day. One month spent travelling on the ship. One month on this planet.

Fuck.

If I didn’t get a handle on my emotions now, I’d start bawling. And crying in temperatures this low with goggles on was a recipe for disaster. The goggles would get all wet and fogged, but if I took them off, the tears would freeze in my eyelashes and on my cheeks, making my skin painful and raw. Plus, my nose would be running even more than it already was, making my neck warmer a snotty mess.

I sniffed hard, refocusing on the task at hand to try to distract myself.  I braced myself against the tree with my left hand and raised my hammer high in my right. I brought the hammer down against the stony tree as hard as I could. I felt good about the movement.

Until the hammer glanced off the tree and smashed into my left wrist.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I cried, dropping the hammer. I bent over at the waist, curling around my wrist and squeezing it with my right hand.

“Shit, you OK?” Min-Ji asked. She and Suvi peeled away from their trees, but they both froze when Major Corey shouted at them.

“Back to your posts!”

“She’s hurt!” Min-Ji said, pointing at me as if Major Corey was too stupid to know who she was talking about. Which, to be fair, he might have been.

“For fuck’s sake,” Major Corey muttered. He stomped over. “If you broke something, Hayes, I swear to fucking God…”

“I didn’t,” I gritted out, straightening up. My wrist hurt like a motherfucker, and I already knew I’d have a vicious bruise there soon, but I could tell it wasn’t broken.

“Fine. Stick your hand in the snow for a bit and get back to it, then,” he said.

“No.”

Major Corey went very still. I could practically feel the shocked, concerned intake of breath coming from Suvi and Min-Ji. I was just as shocked myself. I’d never told Major Corey a flat-out no before.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he asked, deadly quiet.

“I said, ‘No.’ I need a break. Um… A toilet break.”

“Then find a tree to squat behind.”

“I can’t,” I said tightly. “I need to deal with something.”

I rolled my eyes at the confused cocking of Major Corey’s head.

“Menstruation,” I added, a terse word of explanation.

Major Corey physically recoiled.

I bit my tongue, the words almost leaving my mouth. Big bad soldier scared of a little blood.

I wasn’t even on my period. I just knew that was the one thing, other than actually breaking a bone, which would get me a short reprieve from the fieldwork to use the ship’s toilets. Between the pain in my wrist and the agony of thinking of my dad, I had to get out of here. Just for a little while.

“Fucking females,” Major Corey said under his breath. I was pretty sure I was the only one who heard that remark because I knew Min-Ji would have something to say about it if she had.

“I’m not dragging my ass all the way back to the ship for this shit,” Major Corey continued louder this time. “You’re on your own. Don’t take too long.”

“She can’t go alone!” Min-Ji cried. “It’s like a twenty-minute hike through the snow! She could get lost.”

“Let one of us go with her,” Suvi added.

“Not happening. You three have been fucking around way too much today already! Your bin’s at half of what it should be for the day!” Major Corey exploded. The sound of his angry voice sent a couple of pale pink bunny-peckers flying away in dismay. We called them bunny-peckers because, while they were generally bunny-like in shape, with long ears, their trunks furred and fluffy, they had feathered wings. Their rabbity faces ended in hard beaks used for pecking at the crystal trees, creating hollows to live and nest. They had a longer, scientific name that I couldn’t remember. Marta the xenobiologist would know it.

I watched the bunny-peckers’ flight across the pinkish sky that so closely matched their colouring. My heart lurched at the natural beauty of the small forest creatures. The freedom in their flight. It made me want to follow them.

“I won’t get lost,” I said softly.

Both Suvi and Min-Ji were looking at me with what I knew was concern behind their goggles and neck warmers.

“Come on, guys,” I said, simultaneously grateful to have friends looking out for me but also a little annoyed they thought I’d get lost on such a straight path. I may have been an absolute shit show at carving crystal off the trees, but I wasn’t stupid. Not many stupid people could earn a tenured position teaching astrophysics by the age of twenty-nine.

“The snow’s deepest here,” I reminded them. “Once I’m up the hill it’s a straight shot to the ship. I’ll be able to see the ship from the top.”

It was true. The walk was long, but once I got out of the well of this part of the forest, the snow wouldn’t be as deep. Here, the snow drifted around the base of the trees, but it was shallower up the hill behind us and beyond. I was used to snow, to cold winters, from back home. I’d hike and go snowshoeing or cross-country skiing with my dad whenever I visited him in the winter.

“Then get going, Hayes. I’ll radio the ship and let them know you’re coming. They’ll be expecting you, so no stupid shit.” Major Corey stepped closer, leaning in so close to my face that I would have felt his breath crawling over my skin if not for our neck warmers. “Straight to the ship, you hear me? Do not make me come track you down.”

“Roger that,” I replied, my tone more biting than I usually dared. I just barely stopped myself from giving him a sarcastic salute. That, or flipping him the bird. Something told me neither gesture would be appreciated.

“See you guys soon,” I called over my shoulder to Min-Ji and Suvi as I turned away from them. I ploughed forward, slowed by the snow but not letting myself falter. My heart pounded with the exertion, the pulse of it throbbing in my wrist. My neck warmer was hot and wet against my mouth as I panted. I wanted to rip the fabric away from my face, but I knew that meant the moisture on the fabric would freeze and it would be like scraping frozen concrete against my skin.

After a few minutes, I stopped and looked back. The others were out of sight now, blocked by the huge, crystalline cones of this alien forest’s trees. I knew I hadn’t gotten too far yet, but by now I could barely hear the tapping of Min-Ji and Suvi’s hammers. The snow swallowed the sound, making the air into cold, quiet velvet.

I faced forward once more, starting my ascent up the huge, broad hill that led out of the forest. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing or where I was going – I definitely wasn’t going back to the ship. I needed to be alone for a bit, and that did not involve heading straight for the soldiers who’d abducted me in the first place. I swore, the pain in my wrist flaring, as I remembered that night. Barely keeping it together after Dad’s funeral. Stepping up to his door but never getting it open before the pain and the needle and the dark.

When I’d woken with the other women on the ship, it was too late. Too late to go back. Too late to hope that someone would rescue us like a goddamn movie.

I thought of the fate of the women on the sand planet and wanted to punch something.

It could be worse, I reminded myself darkly.

It became a mantra as my boots drove through the snow.

It could be worse. It could be worse.

But saying, “It could be worse,” only got you so far when you were desperate for things, for people, to be better.

I was so overwhelmed with hatred and grief that it stopped me dead in my tracks as I crested the hill. My lungs burned, my breath heaving. I squeezed my eyes shut, but luckily, there was no sign of tears now. The anger inside me became hot and rocky, like an ember. My eyes were dry when I opened them again.

This hill really was huge. It tumbled downward, another hill of similar size rising up across from it, creating a flat, snowy valley between them. In that valley rested the dome of the ship that had brought us here. Recent snowfall had turned it into a small white hill of its own.

Looking at the ship made bile rise in my throat. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter absurdity of the situation. I was an astrophysicist. I’d dedicated my life to space and the stars, dreaming of what it would be like to travel among them, not even knowing the technology already existed, the possibility all too real.

My wish had come true in a dark and twisted way. I’d left Earth and travelled light years…

And all I wanted to do was go home.

If I squinted in my goggles, if I ignored the slightly pink tint to the sky here, I could almost pretend this was Ontario in winter. The sun this planet orbited gave off more red light than we were used to back home, which caused the pinkish hue in the sky. But otherwise, despite the odd animals and the crystal trees, this planet shared quite a few commonalities with Earth. It had a breathable atmosphere, and I’d studied enough data by now to know that it had distinct seasons. If I really let my gaze go hazy, the crystal cones that dotted the valley and hill beyond could have almost passed for towering spruce trees. Spruce trees that came in shades of pink, purple, and silver as well as green.

Other civilian women, escorted by soldiers, were in the valley, too, analyzing the trees closer to the ship. I was far enough away that I couldn’t hear any of their activities. And unless one of them looked at a life sign scanner and saw my little dot up here, they probably wouldn’t notice me.

I’ll have to get back soon…

I rubbed my wrist through the puff of my parka’s sleeve, deciding what to do. I already knew I wasn’t going down into the valley or to the ship. But I definitely wasn’t ready to get back to Major Corey, either.

I settled on walking a little further along the ridge of the hill before turning and clomping back down into a new patch of forest. There was no wind today, and it wasn’t snowing. I’d be able to follow my footsteps back pretty easily, so I wasn’t too worried about getting lost. The pale pink sky was clear, the alien sun shattering into infinite spangles along the glittering ground and the shimmering trees. In another lifetime, I would have called it beautiful.

A beautiful prison.

In that moment, my prison became my sanctuary. The hushed, sunlit forest on this strange and foreign world welcomed me, sheltered me, let me escape, just for a few precious moments. The push and pull of the sensation left me breathless. I was trapped here, in this place. This forest. This winter. This world.

And even so, even shackled to its hard trees and sinking in its snow, I begged it for solace.

I reached the bottom of the hill I’d climbed up before and collapsed onto my ass. My stiff snowpants made a crinkly sound, muffled by the snow I smooshed on the way down. My quads were on fire after the hike, my chest tight. With a sigh that felt like surrender, I arched back until I was lying on the ground.

My limbs akimbo, I stared up at the clear pink sky. Even though it was afternoon, the colour reminded me of dawn. A tired laugh bubbled up in my throat when I realized I was in the perfect position to make a snow angel. Not that I had the energy for it. Now that I’d flopped down here, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get back up again.

But something revolted in me at that. Something hard and urgent. Something that told me to fuck the exhaustion, fuck the grief, and make the snow angel anyway. Suddenly, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. The idea that I’d leave something of myself, my childhood, my life, out here in this hidden stretch of snow. A secret human angel left by a trapped interloper – half rebellion, half apology. It wouldn’t be an indelible mark. Fresh snow and wind would wipe it all away. But I would know it was there. And maybe the forest would, too.

With a burst of strength, my arms and legs pushed through the snow, swiping back and forth. The snow was powdery, not too wet or heavy, and I could soon tell by the feel that I’d made a perfect snow angel. My cheeks ached, and I realized I was smiling.

My flare of energy began to fade. My legs came to a quivering stop, my arms resting in the hollow of the angel’s wings. I gazed upward, the pink of the sky so bitingly clear it didn’t even look real.

Except…

Wait.

The sky wasn’t all clear.

Shit. Storm clouds?

I tipped my chin further up, driving my hood harder into the snow as I craned my neck back to better see. The sky over the valley beyond the hill looked… wrong. Darkening, as if with clouds. But it wasn’t clouds. Was it? No, it looked like…

Stone.

Anxious energy spiking into my limbs, I clambered onto my hands and knees and then stood. It was impossible. It made no fucking sense! But somehow, my instinct seemed right.

The sky was turning to stone. Right in front of me.

A dark grey, opaque oval hovered, somehow immune to gravity despite its rocky appearance.

Before I could even try to figure out what the fuck was happening, a thunderous boom so loud it made my skull ache crashed through the air. My breath caught in a stuttering gasp as the cause for the boom became clear.

The stone had cracked. A deep, dizzyingly dark chasm had opened up.

And something was coming out.

CHAPTER FIVE

Torrance

Fuck. Fuck!

This couldn’t be real. And yet, it had to be. We’d gotten off way too easy on this alien planet so far. No alien hostiles, no weird viruses, no natural disasters the likes of which we’d never seen on Earth. Something had to give. Something had to eventually come and bite us in our arrogant, ignorant human asses.

And clearly, ass-biting time had come.

Gunfire cut through the air, the sound of it shocking me into movement. Just as something – a figure? – hauled itself fully out of the crack and dove through the sky, I spun and started running. As much as I could, anyway, with the snow clogging every step I took.

I didn’t get far. A catastrophic surge exploded through the ground, earthquake-like in its intensity. Like a goddamn meteor had just made contact. I couldn’t even cry out before I was flung forward, throttling through the air until I collided face-first with the ground. Thank God it’s winter. Without the deep, pillowy snow to cushion my landing, I definitely would have broken something. Probably my neck. As it was, I was mostly alright, aside from the fact that the wind had been knocked out of me. Having my face pressed into the snow didn’t help, and I fought to right myself. For one queasy heartbeat, I felt like I was in quicksand. Sinking and flailing.

I managed to get myself back to my feet. Disoriented, I looked all around, my head twisting this way and that. A cacophony of sound from the valley beyond the hill washed over me in violent and indecipherable waves. More gunfire? Explosions. And…

Engines revving up.

I didn’t have time to make sense of it all before I was forced into movement yet again. A riot of snow was pummeling down the hill towards me, a small avalanche spurred on by whatever force had thrown me down. My heart in my throat, I just barely managed to haul myself behind a tree when the snow hit, obliterating as a tsunami. I slammed my back against the tree, clutching at it through my gloves, as ferocious white sprayed in furious opaque sheets on either side. The tree trembled, and my eyes fell closed as I silently begged the huge crystal cone not to topple over onto me.

It felt like I was stuck there forever. Like the tidal wave of snow would never stop. Thankfully, it finally did slow, though. The snow on the hill hadn’t been terribly deep, but the hill was so huge, that it was still a massive volume coming at me. By the time I opened my eyes, the snow on either side of the tree had created drifts higher than my head. The avalanche had slowed but was still moving enough that I couldn’t safely leave.

But it turned out I couldn’t safely stay, either. The snow at the tops of the drifts on either side began to cave in, falling down around me. I blinked, and I was buried up to my waist.

Pure, animal fear gripped me.

I’m going to be buried alive.

I couldn’t even do anything to stop it. I tried to dig myself out, but more snow collapsed inward on me. Only a small crystal overhang on the tree above my head kept my upper body clear as everything fell inwards, walls of impenetrable white all around me. And still, the snow moved outside, adding to the walls, the weight, until I was completely encased.

Entombed.

Terror froze me more powerfully than the cold. I couldn’t move. Could barely breathe, and I doubted I’d even be able to do that for long, considering how fast the carbon dioxide would build up in my small bubble beneath the snow.

What do I do? Fuck! Think, Torrance!

What did I know about surviving an avalanche? Was I supposed to spit? I’d heard that, once. But then I remembered something about the spit helping you tell which way was up and which was down, which I already knew considering I was still standing upright. So that was fucking useless.

My hands were trapped against my sides, and I agonized over whether I should try to pull them free or not. Too much movement could make the snow above and ahead of me crash inwards into my bubble of air. But if I didn’t move, I’d die here.

I love you, Dad. But I’m not ready to join you just yet.

Slowly, carefully, I wiggled my fingers, trying to see what I was working with. Pain lanced up my injured wrist, but I ignored it. Man, I was stuck. Like, really, really stuck.

Panic threatened to overwhelm me. My heart beat so hard in my ears I barely caught the sound of voices. I held my breath, my eyes opening as wide as possible behind my goggles as if that would somehow help me hear better. I quickly decided that it wasn’t helping, and I closed them, focusing everything I had on the sound out beyond the snow.

Everything was muffled in here, but the voices were closer than the explosions and engine sounds beyond, and the people seemed to be shouting. I caught half-words and snippets screamed by a voice I knew well.

Min-Ji.

“Rance still ow air!”

Thank God. They must have been clear of the avalanche where they’d been working further along the hill. I should have stayed with them!

Then came another voice I knew. A voice I hated.

“I don’t… Life sigh!”

He doesn’t see my life sign.

Shit! Sometimes physical barriers could prevent a good reading on a life sign, especially when using the small, weaker scanners we took out into the field. The snow was hiding my life sign.

I fought to keep my dismay under control, listening harder. Major Corey was saying something else.

“Eez prolly ed! We’re ot! Tha shi… eve out us!”

That what? That shit? That shiv?

That ship?

Out us…

Without us.

They’re leaving.

Min-Ji screamed something else, or maybe it was Suvi this time, but I didn’t catch it. I was too busy taking the deepest fucking breath I’d ever taken in my life. If I could hear them from outside, if I yelled loud enough, maybe they’d hear me, too.

Just as I opened my mouth, another explosion rang out, terrific and terrible. It cut off my scream and made my snowy house of cards quiver alarmingly around my head. More explosions followed, and I lost track of how many there were or how many minutes ticked by. By the time the reverberations died down, there were no more voices outside. No more gunfire from what I could tell, either.

And the sound of engines…

Was quieter. Getting quieter every fucking second until I couldn’t hear anything outside at all.

I tried to lie to myself. Tried to tell myself that maybe it just sounded quieter because more snow had drifted around me. Or maybe because my own frantic heartbeat was drowning out everything else.

But I knew, deep in my snow-buried bones I knew, that they had left. Left the atmosphere.

Left me.

The ship was gone.

But what was even worse?

The thing that had hauled itself out of the sky, caused the explosions, and forced an entire military crew into retreat despite weapons and shields and machinery…

Was probably still fucking here.

CHAPTER SIX

Wylfrael

The sky door Maerwynne had opened for me from Heofonraed formed near my castle. Thankfully, Sionnach wasn’t located in the dark part of his star map, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to open the door here and I would have waited for some more of my strength to return. I owe him a great debt. I would pay it as soon as I was able. I did not like owing things to others.

I liked being weak even less.

But I was not too weak to confront and kill these ones. The ones in the valley. My valley.

I crashed to the ground, sending shockwaves through the snow. Calamity ensued at my arrival, and I felt a bitter stir of malevolent satisfaction at their fear. How dare these weak, wingless creatures think that they could come here and dig into my world like worms while I was gone?

They should have known that I’d be back.

My satisfaction turned to fury when some of the humans, the ones not running, aimed small machines at me. Weapons. A vicious spray of sound filled the valley, and rock-like projectiles pinged off of my hide. Stone of the sky. I was weaker than I’d realized. Some of the tiny things they sent my way actually penetrated, leaving bloodied marks along my chest and wings. One hit my cheek, skidding just under my eye and leaving an infuriating burn.

Enough.

I heaved up the last vestiges of strength I possessed, concentrating my energy on the snow. I roared as my star map glowed brighter and thrummed with power. I raised my hands and the snow rose with them, becoming a freezing spear that crashed over the group of humans aiming those tiny machines at me. Maerwynne was right. They are weak. Not a single human recovered from the blow.

I turned, fangs bared, from that group, my gaze slashing over the scene. Many of the humans were running into a large, disc-like thing. The contraption that had brought them here, no doubt. It was entirely different in design from a Tvarvatra machine, so at the very least I could surmise they were not allied with those foul beings. The disc machine whirred.

If I’d been stronger, I likely would have killed them all. Collapsed their machine into the snow with a single blow of my fist and forced them all to stand, fight, and die.

But as it was, my energy was too depleted. I wanted them gone, and they were going. Let them look upon me and run. Cowardly little creatures.

The ones who did not carry weapons were all stowed in the disc machine now. The only ones left upon the snow still aimed their tiny weapons my way, flinging their quick, biting stones at me. I stalked towards them, about a dozen of them in all, ignoring the scoring sensations across my skin. The sounds of their weapons gave way to shouts, bleated commands I could not understand. New weapons were engaged against me – ones that they threw from their hands, detonating all around me with fire and fury. For every explosion that went off, I ripped up a wall of snow and ice to protect myself. The snow melted and dispersed quickly under the fiery blows, but it kept me protected enough as I advanced on the remaining warriors. When I got close, they tried to turn and run into the machine, like the others had. I decided these ones would be worth spending some of my dwindling power on. With a stretch of my hand, pummelling snow heaved over them with the force of a mountain falling. I turned my attention to the disc machine to see three figures jumping inside – stragglers I had not noticed before. Two were smaller and weaponless. The taller one aimed his weapon at me as he entered the disc machine.

That enraged me. I was being stupid, now, to keep using my power when there was so little left. But my restraint had become even more eroded than my stores of strength. With a vicious snarl, I snapped open my wings, leaping forward and grasping the human’s neck in my hand. I pulled him from the disc machine as some of the humans screamed. A few of them continued fighting, showering me with little rocks that did not explode and lobbing the large rocks that did explode.

I flew into the air with the wriggling, struggling warrior, out of range of the others on the disc. Even now, he still tried to kill me, clutching at my throat, grabbing my hair.

“You’re a fool,” I hissed at the flat, dark sheen of his eye. “You do not know whose world you’re in now.”

Sounds – maybe words – came from his white and mouthless face. I understood none of them, and wanted to even less. The human unloaded his weapon on me at close range, and I grunted as the stones dug deep into my guts.

I snatched the thing from his hands and crunched it in my grip as if it were nothing more than a bit of wayward ice. I let the black pieces fall to the ground, far below us now. My grip on his neck tightened, and I dragged his hideous, mouthless face up to mine.

“I’ll tell you, then,” I rasped, blood coursing down my legs, my wings beating. “This is Sionnach.” The human squirmed and gasped, but I did not let go. “Sionnach is mine. Mine to guard, mine to protect. And because you’re in it, your life is mine, too.” I held him by his neck out in the air, further away from my body.

“But not for long,” I said grimly.

With that, I flung him down. Down, down, down. He did not move again.

After a moment, I followed him to the snow and landed, wanting to make sure no more warriors remained to threaten me with their impudence and ridiculous little weapons. I saw no others. The disc thing grew louder, then lifted off of the ground, the humans in retreat.

I stood motionless upon the snow of my mother’s homeland, watching as the invaders fled, leaving their dead behind. By tonight, even the corpses would be gone, dragged away by Sionnachan beasts grown bold with winter-sharpened hunger.

Before returning to my castle to see what had become of it, I took to the skies once more, flying over the nearby forest. I needed to see what damage they’d done, and to make entirely sure none of them remained in my woods. I bristled when I saw their tools upon the ground, alongside hunks of trees they’d carved, pieces of my world hacked away without permission or consideration.

At least they’re gone now.

It soothed me, just a little, my anger abating and giving way to exhaustion. I soared down, back to the ground, landing in very deep snow that looked churned and distorted. With a quick sweep of my eyes, I realized it had come from the hill in a small avalanche.

I grimaced, hoping none of the native Sionnachan beasts had been harmed by the deluge. Breathing out in a tight hiss, I began to walk, using small bursts of power to clear the overly deep snow from my path. I didn’t want to fly right now. Right now, I wanted to be in the world, among the trees.

I recognized these trees. Many of them, at least. But they were larger. Older. And there were new young ones I’d never seen. My fingers trailed over their frosted surfaces as I tried to reacquaint myself with the world I felt I’d only just left, but had really been away from for so long.

I paused a wingspan away from the base of one particular tree. It was a tree I knew well – one of the largest even when I’d been a boy. One of the rarer colours, it stood out among the others, shining an iridescent silver-white, the same colour as stone sky blood. When we were young gods, Skalla and I would race each other climbing it. I always won, and I’d half imagined it was because the tree loved me better. That it had helped me somehow.

“So old, and yet still here,” I murmured. Just like me. “I’m sorry I left you to stand guard on your own for so long.”

Thinking of Skalla scaling the tree turned sorrow into a knife inside me. Skalla, as steadfast a friend to me as this tree was. Skalla, beloved child of my father’s only brother. Skalla, who’d nearly killed me and had forced me to abandon Sionnach in the first place, leaving the world open new invaders.

My jaw tightened, and I began to turn away.

But not before something caught my eye. A movement at the base of the old silver tree.

A white hand pushing slowly out of the snow, then stopping.

My wings snapped open in anger. So, there was still one left here, after all. Guts churning with rage, fangs grinding, I collapsed the distance in brutal, driving strides. It seemed an offense beyond anything I could imagine that a human would be hiding and seeking protection from this tree of all trees. All the trees in this forest were mine. But this one felt like mine most of all.

The hand had not moved since working its fingers out of the snow. I knew little of human biology, but based on how the others had been so easily killed by my attacks, it seemed unlikely this one would last much longer.

“This is what happens when you force your way into a world you don’t belong to,” I growled at the limp hand. “Now, you pay the price.”

I decided to leave him there, freezing or suffocating or maybe both. I turned once again to go –

A vivid flash of sunlight reflected off the old silver tree, nearly blinding me and making me falter. My gaze narrowed, whipping back to the tree and the dying human buried at its base.

I hesitated, tail thwapping the snow in irritated motions. The sudden sense that I shouldn’t leave the human there solidified in my skull.

Fine. I’ll kill him myself, then.

With an impatient toss of my hand, my energy pulsed, splitting the snow to reveal a human standing. Or, he had been standing. The lack of snow to support him caused him to toppled forward.

Already dead, then.

But, no. My keen ears pricked, picking up the weak and laboured sound of breathing.

All my rage at the humans returned, blistering as if they were still here and fighting me. The ragged, scorching emotion was entirely focused on this one abandoned warrior. As if he alone was to blame for all of it. I grasped him by the front of his white hooded cloak and slammed his back against the tree. The pain of the motion seemed to shock him into consciousness, a low, cracking groan emanating from his unseen mouth. With my free hand, I held the human’s lolling head upright so I could look at his face.

Cursed stars, these humans were hideous. I’d been to many worlds and seen many beings, but I found the human visage particularly revolting. The broad, shiny black shell of a single eye stretched across the entire upper portion of his face, and he had no nose or mouth that I could see, just a disturbing stretch of white hide.

But…

I could hear that breath much more clearly now. Breath that was coming from where a mouth or nose could be reliably found on many species.

More clothing?

Frustrated by the riddle, I tore at the white, not caring if it really was skin and I was ripping half this creature’s face off. But it wasn’t skin. It was protecting skin instead. And the eye was not an eye, but yet more protective gear. I realized that when I saw the white edges around the black shell pressing harshly into pliable skin, as if it was not naturally meant to be there.

I ripped the black thing away as well.

And froze, harder and more motionless than the trees around me.

Being so repulsed by the human, I’d expected ugliness to continue after tearing away these outer layers. But what I found was something altogether… different.

The human’s face was small, delicate, smooth grey-ish white skin curved over shell-like bone. Her features were placed very similarly to my own, but were smaller. Softer. A slim little nose and a plush, blue-tinted mouth above a pointed chin. Her bluish lips parted as she took a strained breath, revealing two rows of white, blunt teeth. Curling eyelashes fluttered as she tried to focus her gaze – a gaze unlike any other I’d ever seen. White, with rich amber, brown, and black in the middle. Like Sionnachan honey drizzled over snow.

I realized I’d started thinking of the human as she and her instead of him. I’d encountered enough races across the cosmos to know that gender and biology could vary vastly. But she shared enough characteristics with species I knew well that made me think she was a female. And even without that experience, the analysis that consisted of holding her up against other women I’d met, I still would have figured it out. If I’d only encountered other stone sky gods and had never seen a female in my life, I would have known she was one. It was primal. Instinctive. A wordless recognition that flared in my belly and my brain, as vivid and inescapable as the blinding burst of the sun on this very tree just a moment before.

“Wake up, woman,” I hissed, holding her head firmly so that when her snow and honey eyes finally did open all the way she had nowhere to look but at me. “Wake up and tell me exactly what you think you’re doing in my world.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Torrance

“Hello?”

I heard the word, and it took me a moment to realize I was the one who’d said it. It had come out as some kind of automatic response to my returning consciousness. Like I’d been lost in a dark room and had heard the sound of somebody moving nearby.

“Hello?” I said again, confusion muddling my mind. The last thing I remembered was…

The tree and the snow and the explosions and the engines and…

They’re gone.

Where everything had been hazy a moment before, it all became clear, crashing in on me and shattering in sharp fragments. The fighting, the avalanche. The alien figure who’d clawed his way out of a stony sky, defying everything I thought I knew about space and air and atoms.

My eyes wrenched open as adrenaline rattled my limbs. I shook violently, teeth chattering as my eyes focused on… On…?

Him.

Cold air clawed down my throat on my gasping inhale. A face, mere inches from my own, filled my vision, broad and alien and vicious. A gaze like electric blue fire seared me. Stunned, I looked down and away. I shuddered violently when I realized just how close this creature was. He was holding me up, one massive fist scrunched around the front of my parka, the other at the side of my hood, holding my head in place.

I stared mutely at the fist holding my parka, blinking over and over, trying to figure out if he really did have glowing stars webbed all over his hand and bare arm, or if that was just some trick of my oxygen-starved brain. That arm connected to a bulging, muscled shoulder, leading into a bare, mostly human-looking male torso. Except that it wasn’t human. Because the skin was a deep, stony bronze colour, shot through with glowing blue veins of starlight, glittering points of light clustered like constellations everywhere I looked.

And the size marked him as non-human, too. No human man I’d ever seen had shoulders that broad, muscles that tightly packed on a towering frame. The only reason his face had appeared level with mine when I’d opened my eyes was because he’d been forcing my head back with his hand while simultaneously bending down to me.

That hand tightened, as if responding to my thoughts. He wrenched my head back again, my neck craning, until our gazes met once more.

A small, wordless moan tore from my throat. Even though I’d made the sound, I couldn’t quite name the source of it. Fear, maybe. Pain.

Or shock at the obliterating, savage beauty of his eyes.

They weren’t just bright and blue, like I’d thought at first. They were mostly a deep and inescapable black. The blue light I’d noticed came from the iris or the pupil or… Whatever the fuck it was. His irises weren’t round like a human’s, but more like swirling columns running up and down each eye. Blazing blue fury in a black abyss, twisting like tornados made of azure flame. The blue of his gaze was so bright it sent a dusting of light over the rugged slashes of his cheekbones and turned his thick white eyelashes into the colour of a sky I’d once known. A sky somewhere very far from here…

He was saying something to me, I realized distantly. I licked my lips, my exhausted gaze dipping to a broad, angry mouth. Fangs flashed as he spoke, his voice like snow roaring down a mountain.

“I don’t know… I don’t know,” I croaked, not understanding anything he’d said. My head pounded, and I still hadn’t been entirely convinced that this wasn’t some hallucination of a dying brain. Maybe I really was still buried under all that snow…

But his hands on me felt so, so real.

But suddenly, those hands were gone. My knees buckled. Luckily, enough of my weight was pressed backwards against the tree behind me that I slid down its trunk rather than face-planting into the snow. I collapsed to the ground, eyes fluttering closed as weakness made me dizzy.

But I didn’t have time to be dizzy or weak. He’d let me go for some reason, and I wasn’t dead yet. I had to get up. I had to run. Even if I had nowhere to run to.

I cracked my eyes open, then I jolted.

An angel.

For the tiniest moment, in my dazed state, I flashed back to the snow angel I’d made somewhere in this forest, conflating the thing I’d made with the image in front of me. But the one before me now was different. Larger than my powdery snow angel could ever hope to be, with a leathery black wingspan that nearly blotted out the sky. Like the skin on his front, his wings glittered with glorious explosions of blue lights and lines, like an entire universe had been woven into his flesh.

A mane of thick, straight white hair spilled between the wings, ending just above the waistline of tight, black trousers. A long, bushy tail, like a fox’s, was a flash of russet colour contrasting among the white and black and blue. A shift in the light, or maybe a shift in the way the alien held his head, made me notice he had two reddish, fox-like ears, too, poking out from between thick white strands of hair at the top of his head.

Not an angel, I thought, gritting my teeth as I started to rise, panting, to my feet. Not an angel, but a fox-tailed, bat-winged demon. An alien monster I had to get away from at all costs.

Steadying myself against the tree, I raised my foot to take a step.

My boot never hit the ground.

He moved faster than should have been possible, especially for someone his size, all coiled strength and agile muscle. His hands closed around my waist, his wings slamming downward until the world, along with my voice, was ripped entirely away.

The ground was gone.

All that was left was the white and the black and the wings. Red fur, webbed stars.

And the swallowing blue of his eyes.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Wylfrael

The flight to my castle was mercifully short. I was in no shape for a long flight, even though the human female I carried weighed so little. I still wasn’t entirely sure why or how she’d ended up in my arms. I only knew that I could no longer stand about in the woods wasting time when I needed to check on the Sionnachans who lived here. Since I hadn’t killed her yet, and had decided not to leave her, it seemed the only option left was to bring her with me.

I can always kill her later.

But even as I thought the words, I knew that they were hollow. She was too small, too fragile, too brutalized by the snow. She’d come with the invaders, yes, but she’d raised no weapon against me. I wondered what my peaceful Sionnachan mother Sashkah would say, were she still alive to see me kill such a weak, defenceless female in my midst.

I needn’t have wondered. I knew what she would have said. It was something she’d told me many times throughout my life, whenever I got too brash or too angry or too proud.

Oh, Wylfrael, she’d murmur, stroking her hand over my hair, you have too much of the stone sky in you and not enough of Sionnach.

Violent spasms went through the woman’s body as I held her to my chest. My wings churned much more slowly than they should have, as if through sludge, even though the air was crisp and clear.

Once past the previously human-infested valley, everything looked and sounded and smelled just as it ought to have. The forest thickened beneath us, and ahead the Sionnachan mountains rose up in a dark, snow-peaked band. The sun had begun its descent behind the peaks, staining the sky a red so familiar I could have conjured it behind closed eyes no matter how much time I spent away.

Everything was just as I’d left it.

And yet, nothing felt the same.

I tilted forward, wings relaxing open to catch a drift of wind downwards. The woman in my arms tensed when she realized we were landing, another tremor going through her tiny frame.

I landed on my feet, wings sending the top layer of snow skittering away from us. We were in a clearing – an open space between the thick forest behind and the base of the mountains ahead. I was relieved not to see my castle. Good. That old Riverdark spell still holds.

The warlords of Riverdark were powerful mages. Back when he’d been alive, my father Cynewylf had brought one here. The Riverdark mage had owed him a great debt from a previous affair, and as a result he’d agreed to protect our family home with a shielding spell. It made the entire property invisible, even to those who knew where to look.

I placed the human down onto her feet. I watched her carefully, wondering if she’d collapse or try to run.

I had to hand it to her. She was made of slightly stronger stuff than I’d thought.

She chose to run.

She didn’t get very far. A few weak and wobbly steps were all she managed before she fell forward onto her hands and knees in the snow.

Seems her heart is stronger than her legs.

Sighing, I crossed to her and hauled her upright, keeping a firm grip on her upper arm.

“No more running,” I snapped. “I don’t have the patience for it.”

It was true. Now that the fighting had ended, the pain of my wounds was making itself known. If it had just been the human weapons, that would have been one thing. Barely worth bandaging, really. But Skalla had mauled me before I’d even begun battling the humans. Even before this whole thing had started, I had not been at full strength, still weakened from my first fight with my cousin.

The woman said something to me, and I growled in annoyance. I didn’t understand her.

They must be a young race. Or, at least, this language is.

I’d visited Rúnwebbe not long before my first battle with my cousin, and I’d given her a gift in exchange for a fresh bit of her web. She and her web collected whispers from all over the universe, and those whispers included language. But if this human’s language hadn’t existed in its current form back then, then the small pieces of web I’d absorbed into my ears would be useless where this woman was concerned. Only the source web in Rúnwebbe’s world continued collecting whispers, its threads updating as languages morphed and expanded. Once a bit was cut off and used, it could only translate languages that had existed before it got severed. Maerwynne did say I’d been gone for many mortal generations…

The woman spoke again, something that sounded like a question. A question I did not understand and could not answer.

If I want to understand her or interrogate her, I’ll have to see Rúnwebbe first. Get fresh webbing.

But one thing at a time. For now, I just needed to get inside my blasted castle before I bled out all over the snow.

I spoke the Riverdark word for home, mirreth, and then grunted in satisfaction when the castle shimmered into view. The castle was comprised of three ancient, gigantic trees. The trio of trees had been hollowed out, with rooms and stairs and walls built inside them by my father. The three shining, conical towers were connected by above-ground tunnels made of translucent, multi-coloured crystal – the shards of many trees melded together. Some of the tunnels ran along the ground. Others were high up in the air, suspended between the top floors of the towers.

Apparently, the human was not as satisfied as I was by the apparition, because she renewed her attempts to run with a vengeance. Her feet skidded and slipped in the snow, her whole body straining away from my grip.

“I thought I told you, ‘No more running,’” I said flatly, beginning to walk and hauling her along with me. She stumbled, and by the suddenly stubborn look on her tiny face, I wondered if she was about to stop walking beside me altogether. If she was going to collapse to her knees and force me to drag her or pick her up again. She seemed to decide against it, though, which was smart. If she had let all her weight go like that, my strength probably would have popped her arm out of its socket before I could stop it.

“Good,” I grunted as she walked, not exactly impressed, but something close to pleased by her actions. There was something to be said for walking with your own power, even when the path ahead seemed dark. Plus, I was glad I didn’t have to carry her kicking and screaming inside. What would Yllsha think?

It jarred me, the grief when I remembered that Yllsha, the endlessly competent Mistress of Affairs who’d run this castle when I’d last been here, was long dead. Though I felt as if I’d only seen her days ago, she would not be here. Neither would Notto, the Master of the Grounds, with his flashing eyes and smoky, rumbling guffaw.

Who was left?

Would anyone even be here at all?

I opened the green door to the centre tower and pulled the human inside with me. I had no idea what would greet me here after being gone for so long.

But by the stars, I was about to find out.

CHAPTER NINE

Wylfrael

The door closed behind us with a soft thud. The entrance hall was just as I’d left it – a wide, tall space with dark green, shimmering walls. The floor, like the tunnels that connected the three towers to each other, was made of hundreds of shards of trees melded together. The colours had been chosen and placed carefully, creating a large pink, silver, and purple starburst in a deep green sky. I could see the floor’s design clearly – there was light. Firestones flickered along divots and shelves in the natural shape of the walls, casting a fractured orange glow over the interior.

So, someone is here, then.

Firestones only burned for a dozen days or so before they had to be replaced.

Ahead of us was a curving staircase that led upwards to the higher floors of this centre tower, called the Day Tower. White sotasha fur carpet spilled down the steps like a stream of foaming water. At the back of the hall, another door led into the kitchen and laundry areas, and a door back there led outside to the gardens and barns.

“You can stop that, now,” I muttered, casting my eyes sideways and down at the human. She was still fighting against my grip, her strange eyes darting back and forth, her breath coming fast and quick between red lips. I frowned, tugging her close and leaning down to inspect her face. Had her lips and skin not had a blue and grey tint earlier? When I’d first found her in the snow? I was sure of it, but now her skin was all pink and crimson, her cheeks flaming and her lips darkest of all.

Perhaps humans had colour-changing hide? I’d met other races with such a feature. I raised my free hand, drawing a fingertip along her cheek. Her pulling and struggling ceased instantly. Her eyes went wide – so wide I could see that the golden-brown part in the centre was actually a circle, with white all the way around. Strangely enough, the black of her eye also seemed much more pronounced than it had been outside. Swallowing up the warmth. Colour changing eyes as well? To what purpose?

“What is the meaning of this? Your shifting skin and eyes?” I asked, drawing my finger along the hollow of space below her left eye. Her skin shocked me with just how soft and delicate it was, plush and supple, blooming heat beneath my touch.

I knew asking her questions was pointless right now. But I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to understand her, and by extension, the humans who’d invaded my world. She did not answer with words. She merely trembled for a moment, staring at my face. Then, her lips flattening into a grim line, she raised her hand and knocked my finger away.

I let her do it, having found no answers in my exploration of her cheek. When my finger dropped, her hand flattened against the side of her face, pressing against the places I’d touched her. As if trying to shield herself from further touches. Or trying to press comfort upon a wound.

Had that simple touch hurt her? Stone of the sky, humans were even weaker than I’d thought.

I made a conscious effort to loosen my grip on her upper arm. Just in case.

I did not have more time to dwell upon the human’s physical fragility. A sudden clatter of movement upon the stairs drew the woman’s attention along with my own.

“Sionnach preserve me! Is that… Is that you, Lord Wylfrael?”

A young Sionnachan woman stood upon the stairs, her upper half in shadow, as she’d halted, presumably due to shock, partway down where the firestone light only reached her legs.

“Yes,” I replied in the Sionnachan tongue. “I’ve returned.” Far later than I meant to…

“Oh… Oh, my! Shoshen! Shoshen!”

The Sionnachan woman bounded back up the way she’d come, her bushy tail a furred orange flash, continuing to call for someone I assumed was named Shoshen. A muffled, questioning reply came from somewhere up above, to which she barked, “The lord’s returned, you great bumble wit! Get down here at once!”

The commotion we’d brought had now clearly extended to the upper floors, as I heard the distinct sound of something dropping and smashing, followed by a string of panicky curses. A back-and-forth conversation ensued before two sets of Sionnachan feet in slippers began making haste down the stairs. The two stopped before me, panting slightly.

“Forgive me, my lord,” said the young woman. She flattened her pointed orange ears – ears so similar in shape to my own – in a show of deference. A quick whack of her tail against the other Sionnachan’s bottom had him flattening his ears as well.

“Yes, forgive us, Lord Wylfrael,” said the other Sionnachan, a young male who looked like he’d just entered adulthood. He seemed slightly younger than the woman with him. “We were not… Ah. We were not expecting you.”

“Nor was I expecting you,” I replied.

“Of course,” the woman said, her ears returning to their upright position. “When you were last here, the Mistress of Affairs would have been…”

“Yllsha,” I supplied. The absence of Yllsha, and Notto, and every other Sionnachan I’d known in this castle, pressed down on me like a physical weight. I was immortal. I had watched Sionnachans with their mortal blink of a lifespan die before. I’d lost many loved ones during my life, including my own parents. But I’d been there for those deaths. I’d presided over the Sionnachan death ceremonies. I’d gotten my chance to say goodbye. But this? It did not feel like Yllsha and the others were dead. It felt as if they’d just… Vanished. And that if I waited long enough, they’d walk through the kitchen door into this very hall, Yllsha reprimanding Notto and Notto grinning his cavalier grin.

It disoriented me. Yllsha and Notto still felt very much a part of my current life. But to these two before me, they were faceless ghosts of history.

“I am Aiko, my lord. I am the current Mistress of Affairs. This is my younger brother, Shoshen, Master of the Grounds. Yllsha and Notto are our ancestors.”

“Both of them?” I asked, surprised. I wondered if the human registered the shock in my tone of voice, because I felt her gaze snap to me from the side.

“Yes, my lord,” answered Aiko.

“They were our great great great… Forgive me, Lord Wylfrael, I do not know how great they were,” Shoshen said. “But they were our very far-back, very great grandparents.”

A soft chuckle escaped from my lips. The human jerked in my grasp, as if the sound had burned her.

“So those two finally gave in and married, then,” I said, the shadow of a smile still playing about my lips. I sorely wished I had been there for the wedding, and to meet their children and grandchildren. But this helped – meeting Aiko and Shoshen. Now that I looked closely, I could see some of Yllsha’s sharp yet warm competence in Aiko’s firmly raised chin. And though he seemed more timid than I’d known his ancestor to be, Shoshen had an echo of Notto’s mirth in his eyes.

“Speaking of marriage… Forgive me if the question is impertinent, my lord, but is this your… your…” Aiko’s green gaze fell on the human, who tensed under this new observation.

I clenched my fangs, halting a groan of irritation. They think that, like my father, I’ve found my mate on Sionnach.

“No,” I said flatly. “She’s one of the invaders who arrived during my absence. The others are dead or gone. She is the last of them.”

“Oh! So… she’s…” Aiko’s ears twitched as she clearly sought the right word for the situation.

“A prisoner.”

Aiko and Shoshen both inhaled sharply. The Sionnachans were peaceful and cooperative. They had no dungeons, no real crime to speak of. The word “prisoner” only existed in their language to use in a metaphorical sense. Prisoner of the mind. Prisoner of the heart.

Shoshen darted a look at his older sister, but she merely raised her downy orange arms in front of her, clenching her hands into fists and then opening them flat in a quick movement that meant “yes,” or “acknowledged.”

Though I knew she did not understand what I’d said, the human chose that moment to wrench herself from my loosened grip, as if in revolt against the idea of being a prisoner. With an annoyed sigh, I let her go, remaining in my place as she darted away from us. She ran to the base of the stairs, seeming to consider ascending, but no doubt realized that would trap her further. She hurried to the back of the hall.

“Oh! Oh!” Aiko said, her tail puffing up in panic. “Bring her back, Shoshen!”

Shoshen advanced slowly, his arms out to the side. The scene was an absurd one. Aiko and Shoshen were acting like a wild burrowbird had flown into the house. It made me laugh for the second time.

“She’s slow. She won’t get far.”

“My lord?” Shoshen said, turning back to me with a questioning look, waiting for explicit instructions.

The human used that moment of distraction to clumsily wrench open the door. She ran into the kitchen and out of sight.

My laughter died, giving way to cold impatience.

She’s slow. But wily, this one.

“Ready rooms for us upon our return. I want her in the highest chamber of the Dawn Tower. I will stay in the chamber directly below hers.” I strode across the hall. It was only when my feet slipped slightly on the smooth tree tile that I looked down. Melting snow had mixed with my blood, leaving wet silvery streaks along the floor. “I will require bandages.”

Aiko gasped.

“My lord! The blood! In all the commotion, I hadn’t noticed!”

“Apologies for the mess,” I said, frowning at the streaks on an otherwise spotless floor. “I can tell you’ve worked hard to keep things clean.”

“Do not apologize for that, Lord Wylfrael!” Aiko sputtered. “Please, rest now, and let Shoshen retrieve the prisoner!”

A mirthless smirk played about my lips. Shoshen looked like a strong enough Sionnachan lad. But he was young even by a mortal’s standards. A dewy, unsure innocence in his wide eyes made me think my escaped human, weak though she was, might be able to evade him.

“Prepare the rooms,” I reiterated as I resumed walking across the hall. My voice hardened when I reached the kitchen and saw the far door flung open, tiny footsteps leading out into the snow. “I will bring her back.”

CHAPTER TEN

Torrance

Istaggered out into the snow without a plan, simply needing to get as far away from those people, those aliens, as I could. Some dull, distant part of me recognized I wasn’t thinking straight. That shock and trauma and adrenaline had reduced the rational part of my mind to a blubbering mess, allowing panicky instinct to take over. I just need to get away. If I can only be on my own for a bit to fucking think…

I trudged through shin-deep snow, knowing I wasn’t fast enough but not having any clue as to what to do about it. Any minute they’re going to come out that door and follow me…

I didn’t allow myself to look back. Just kept ploughing forward towards the treeline, grown dark and ominous. The sun had nearly entirely set, a bloodied streak of crimson glowing behind the mountains under an otherwise dark and starry sky. This planet had no moon, and I found the absence of it disorienting in the extreme.

How the fuck did we not know there were alien people so close by?

I’d seen the towering structure shimmer into existence, as if out of thin air, myself. Whatever shielded it must have also hidden it from our ship’s scanners. No way would the military have just let that go without investigating it if they knew how close it was to our base. They probably would have taken the aliens prisoner to study them…

Which is exactly what was happening to me, wasn’t it? I was the alien here. I was the one out of place. The one they wanted to trap. Maybe to study. Maybe to punish.

Why else would the winged one have saved me? I knew I couldn’t have gotten out of that snow alone. When I’d come to, he was there. He was the one holding me upright.

Saved me…

The phrase didn’t feel quite right. I doubted his actions were benevolent. He had to have hurt, probably even killed, some of the other humans to have forced them into such a quick retreat. An obscene amount of money had gone into this mission, and only a threat of terrible, existential proportions would have made the crew abandon it.

He didn’t save me. He just didn’t want death to take me out of his control.

The thought made my movements flighty and frantic. My lungs were cold fire, my throat agony, my legs on the brink of collapse.

I’m not going to make it much further.

I cried out in horrified shock when the snow directly in front of me rose up, like a tidal wave, freezing into a two-metre-tall barrier that blocked my path.

How is this even real? Even the snow doesn’t want me to leave!

Not knowing what else to do, in a defeated gesture of anguish, I kicked at the newly-formed wall. It accomplished nothing, which infuriated me, making me want to kick it again and again and again.

A sound from behind me, a single growled word, stopped me. The voice was gruff yet somehow smooth, like tearing silk, and I knew who’d called to me before I even turned around.

I turned around anyway.

Light spilling out from the open door behind him made him into a brutal silhouette. A winged shadow of carved stone and leather, velvet and ice, all black apart from the pinpricks of blue on his skin and the arresting flames of his gaze. One of his arms was raised. He flicked his hand in an almost leisurely gesture, and I heard the snow wall topple into a useless heap behind me.

It was him. He made the wall…

The snow wall had fallen, but I knew that I was more cornered than ever before. He didn’t need to speak for me to understand what his hand and his eyes and the looming archangel shadow of his body told me.

The night air was still but heavy with meaning, the truth loud in the snow-drenched silence.

He said nothing.

You cannot run from me, is what I heard.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Torrance

Ireturned inside with my winged captor. There was no other choice. He clearly wasn’t going to let me run off into the forest, and even if he had allowed me that, it would have meant certain death for me out there without the shelter and resources of the ship.

I can’t believe the ship is gone…

We walked through a large room that appeared to be a rustic kitchen – something I hadn’t noticed on my mad dash outside. Once past that, we were back in the grand entrance hall with its emerald green walls and the intricately-laid tile floor. The other two aliens who’d been here before were gone. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. They hadn’t seemed especially menacing in and of themselves, but I’d gleaned from their interactions that they held the winged man up as some sort of authority figure and would no doubt take his side over mine if things came down to it.

My captor wasn’t holding me by the arm this time. He didn’t need to. We both recognized that his display of power outside had broken my will to attempt escape again.

At least for tonight.

He walked across the hall, and I kept shaky pace beside him, knowing that he was leading me somewhere though not quite knowing where. I stole a sideways glance, observing him in the strange orange light that seemed to emanate from lantern-like rocks along the walls. He looked more like some cruel fae prince, or a fallen god, than an alien. Rugged yet regally cut jaw and cheekbones, hair like midnight moon, an entire sprawling starscape etched into his skin and wings.

Beside him like this, I could get a sense of how truly huge he was. At least seven feet tall, with shoulders that seemed even more broad than they really were because of the wings. His dark reddish, fox-like tail and ears were features he shared with the other two aliens who’d been here before, but though clearly somehow related, it was obvious they weren’t the exact same species. Comparing the other two to him would have been like comparing sparrows to a dragon.

We reached the foot of the hall’s impressive curving staircase, made of more deep green crystal. The centre of the staircase was plush with some kind of white fur carpeting. For an absurd moment, I wanted to take off my boots so I didn’t ruin it. Nearly bent to do it, too. Old habits die hard.

The alien began ascending the stairs without even turning back to see if I’d followed. The arrogance in that astounded and enraged me. He won’t check if I’m behind him because he knows I will be. Trailing behind him like a fucking puppy, helpless to do anything else.

I stood shaking and seething at the bottom of the stairs, wanting to plant myself there, to wait so long that he’d have to turn around and see I hadn’t followed. I was desperate to take a stand, in some small way, now that I knew I couldn’t run. But I was afraid of what would happen if I did. And while I wrestled with what to do, he kept moving up the steps in measured strides. One. Two. Three. With every step he took, my nerve dwindled. Four. Five. My mouth went dry, palms sweating in my gloves. Six. When his foot touched down on the seventh step, he halted. He remained there for a moment, one foot higher than the other, thick leg muscles on display in his tight leather-looking trousers. For the first time, I noticed the material wasn’t just black, but stained with bright silver-white, like smeared paint. It was coming from his skin above, coursing in shimmering rivulets. Now that I’d noticed it, I saw it everywhere – running in narrow trails down his arms and splattered across his wings.

Is he… bleeding?

If he was, it didn’t seem to be bothering him, at least to my eyes. He practically thrummed with restrained power as he posed on the stairs, his muscle-corded arms loose and relaxed by his sides, his stance perfectly balanced between the two steps. He stood entirely still except for his head, which turned in a subtle movement to the left, allowing me a glimpse of his hard jaw and nose in a one-quarter profile view. I doubted he could even see me from that angle, and yet I suddenly felt completely exposed. Stripped bare by a set of eyes that weren’t even on me.

Swallowing hard, I mounted the first step. He faced fully forward once again and continued walking.

And just like the bastard knew I would, I followed.

WE MOUNTED SO MANY stairs I grew dizzy and thought I’d fall all the way back down. These trees, or towers, or whatever they were, were definitely as large on the inside as they’d appeared on the outside. Eventually, we ended up on a broad landing of sorts. On each side of the landing was an opening that led into what looked like a tunnel. I’d seen this from the outside, I realized. Suspended, tubular walkways made of crystal that connected the three towers to each other. Without pausing, the alien headed for the exit to our left, stepping out onto the protected walkway.

My failed moment of defiance at the bottom of the stairs taught me not to bother standing around here. Whatever was ahead – pain or prison cell – I had to face it. I could walk. Or I could get dragged.

I hurried to catch up.

I gulped as I stepped into the suspended tunnel. I couldn’t help but peek downwards, immediately wishing I hadn’t. The crystal was translucent, which made it seem like I was walking on something that only half-existed. The ground below was a dizzying distance away. My stomach twisted and dropped.

Gritting my teeth, I wrenched my eyes up, finding the alien further ahead. It was quite a long tunnel, at least twenty metres, maybe more. Even though it was cold in here, I ripped off my gloves and shoved them into my parka’s pockets, needing to feel the solid tunnel wall with my bare skin. I remained close to the right side of the walkway, my hand moving along the rounded wall as if I couldn’t see and needed to feel my way along.

I tried my best not to look down again. For a while, I kept my gaze fastened to the winged alien’s back. But before long, it drifted to the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. The crystal shards hadn’t been randomly put together, but, like the floor in the entrance hall, had been artfully arranged. It created a stained-glass effect. Starlight filtered through crystal flowers and fields above my head, dappling my white snowsuit and the alien’s hair with petals of light – rose and lilac and jade.

Was that a good thing? That this alien’s home (at least, I assumed it was his home) was beautiful? That he appreciated art, or nature, or both? That aesthetic and design were considered important? It made him seem a little more human, at least, but that wasn’t necessarily a point in his favour. Look what humans did to me.

The starlight gleamed in his blood.

And to him.

We reached the end of the tunnel, emerging onto another landing. If what I remembered from my brief view from the outside was correct, this tower was slightly shorter than the largest centre one we’d just come from, and the tunnel connected somewhere close to the shorter tower’s pointed top. And yet, there were still more fucking stairs.

I sucked in a breath, swallowed my groan of complaint, and started to climb.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Wylfrael

Aiko met us on the stairs, descending to the landing outside the room I’d chosen just as we reached it.

“Ah! My lord! The chambers are prepared. There was not much to do. Though we did not know when you would return, we have kept everything ready for you.”

“Thank you,” I grunted. I stepped aside, making room for the panting, wobbling human who trailed behind me. At several points on the walk here, I didn’t think she’d make it. But every time I paused, sensing the need to go back and haul her up myself, she’d made it abundantly clear she did not want any assistance. She didn’t have much further to go, now. The only thing left above this landing was the room I’d chosen for her, and it was directly overhead.

“Take her up to her room,” I said to Aiko, jerking my chin at the human. “I assume she eats, so bring her a meal.”

The human watched me flatly. All the warmth was gone from her eyes in the gloom of the stairwell, endless obsidian pools.

For some reason, that bothered me.

“And bring a blasted firestone for this landing,” I said, more curtly than I’d intended. “It’s too dark here.”

“Of course, my lord!”

I fought to steady my voice, to regain some composure.

“Thank you again, Aiko. I will be in my room. When the human is finished eating, I expect her to be brought to me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Go.”

I opened the door to my chamber, stepping through. Clearly, there had been some confusion, though, because the human followed me in.

“No, Sionnach preserve us, not that way!” Aiko bleated nervously. I spun on my heel, catching the human’s narrow shoulders in my hands. Her eyes opened wide. In the warmly lit chamber, her gaze had regained its golden hue.

Better.

“Go with Aiko,” I said gruffly, spinning her in my hands until she faced the Sionnachan Mistress of Affairs. I let her go, and she stumbled forward.

She turned back to look at me, her brow wrinkled with a lack of understanding, or maybe with suspicion, as if she didn’t believe I was going to let her out of my sight.

“You.” I pointed a clawed finger at her. “Aiko.” My finger swung to the Sionnachan. “Go.” Now I pointed back out towards the landing at the stairs.

Something came over her face, then. A slackening. Relief.

“Don’t get too excited,” I muttered darkly. “You’ll be back here before you know it.”

But my words had no effect. Something did excite her – fear, or maybe pure, vicious hatred for me. Whatever it was, it quickened her movements more than I would have thought possible.

She ran from my room like it would kill her if she stayed.

I remained there, looking out the doorway into the shadows of the landing, until I heard the door above mine open, then shut.

I dragged my fingers through my hair and sighed.

Finally alone.

“My Lord? I have the bandages.”

… Never mind.

I smoothed my face into something I hoped did not convey my annoyance before I turned around. My parents, my mother in particular, had always impressed upon me how much I was to care for and respect the castle’s staff.

“Thank you, Shoshen.”

Shoshen, it turned out, was not alone. A much older Sionnachan man, leaning on a silver tree crystal cane, was with him. They both flattened their ears.

“My Lord, this is our father, Ashken. He was the previous Master of the Grounds who trained me,” Shoshen said. “I hope you do not mind that I woke him to greet you.”

“Not at all,” I replied, crossing the room to them. “I am happy to meet you, Ashken, just as I will be to meet the others.”

“Others?” Shoshen asked, turning to glance at his father.

“Lord Wylfrael,” Ashken said, his voice deeper and stronger than his use of the cane would have led me to expect, “there are no others. It is only me, and my two children, who serve the castle now.”

My tone turned caustic.

“Was it the invaders? Were the other Sionnachans here harmed?”

If the humans killed them…

I stormed to the door, ready to tear the human out of her room and demand answers from her, even if she could not understand my questions. But Ashken’s words stopped me in my tracks.

“No, my lord. That old Riverdark spell has served the castle well. Those invaders did not come here or harm any Sionnachan that I know of.”

Well, that was something at least. I turned back and rejoined them. Shoshen seemed to remember himself, jumping and making a little “ah!” sound. He brandished a bandage at me, soaked in healing Sionnachan herbs, stepping closer to clean my wounds. I waved him off with a grunt, taking it and doing it myself. I wiped the soaked bandage across my chest, cleaning away the blood and disinfecting the wounds.

“So, where’s the rest of the staff, then?” I asked, switching out my now-bloodied bandage for a fresh one Shoshen handed me reverently. When I’d left, there had been a dozen servants in the castle’s employ.

“Well, my lord,” Ashken began slowly. “To put it plainly, people lost hope you’d ever return. The coffers kept them paid in your absence, but generation after generation, belief that you were dead grew stronger. People began to leave their posts here, returning to be with their families in villages far beyond the mountains. Or they died, and no one was willing to cross the mountains to replace them.” The old man paused, as if unsure whether to say the next part. “Forgive me my boldness, Lord Wylfrael, but few Sionnachans wanted to serve in the abandoned house of a dead god.”

My eyebrows lifted in surprise at old Ashken’s bluntness. I decided I appreciated his honesty.

“I can understand that,” I muttered, passing Shoshen yet another ruined bandage. My front was mostly cleaned up now, and I began packing the wounds with dry bandages.

“We, of course, never felt that way,” Ashken added. “Our family has always held strong in the faith that you would return. Someday.”

“Well, here I am.” I tried to ignore the knife of shame in my guts that twisted at the thought of generation after generation of Sionnachans waiting here for me. Waiting for a god who did not come.

Curse you, Skalla…

“Thank you for remaining,” I said, meaning it. I didn’t particularly care one way or the other about having servants around to tend to my needs, but their loyalty touched me. And with the human prisoner here now, I’d be able to offload tasks like feeding her and fetching clothes for her to the others. Plus, I’d be able to get information about what went on in my absence without having to trek to one the of villages so far from here they likely wouldn’t have any information about the humans’ activities, anyway.

Although…

“Have you been in contact with anyone beyond the mountains?” I asked sharply. I hadn’t yet considered the idea that there could be more human settlements on my world.

“Yes, my lord,” Ashken replied. “After the invaders arrived in their sled from the sky, I sent letters, carried by burrowbirds, to other villages. The replies we received seemed to indicate the flying sled with its foreigners in the valley was the only one, and they did not travel far from here. Though, they had only been here thirty-one days before you arrived today, so there is no way to know what their future plans may have been.”

“As long as their future plans do not include returning,” I mused darkly. I doubted they’d even attempt such a thing, considering how fast they’d fled. If they did try to return in the future, I’d be even stronger, and I’d crush their machine, the sled, as Ashken called it, with my bare fists…

But for now, I was satisfied that they were gone.

Except for the one currently in the chamber directly above my head.

“You may leave me now. You are dismissed for the night,” I told the father and son. They closed and opened their fists (Ashken doing the gesture with only one hand, his other fist clutching his cane) before quietly leaving the room. As they padded down the stairs together, Ashken’s laugh, choked with emotion, echoed.

“It is just as I always told you and your sister it would be, my boy! Lord Wylfrael has returned! Snows of Sionnach, am I ever glad I lived to see this day…”

I didn’t share Ashken’s joy over this day. In fact, it had been a singularly trying one among all the uncounted days of my immortal existence. First, the fight with Skalla that had left me so weakened. Then, coming home to find the humans here. Surrounding all of that, there was the swirling dread of this new star-darkness spreading and the strange, unyielding silence from the Council of the Gods.

Remembering Maerwynne’s disturbingly starless fist, I checked over my own body once more for signs of the same. But all I found were stars just where they should be and wounds to be cleaned and bandaged.

I’d just bandaged them all – all the ones deep enough that required it, anyway – when a soft call from beyond the doorway caught my ears.

“Lord Wylfrael?”

Aiko was in the open doorway, wringing her hands. Her tail was a bushy orange puff of anxiety, her small upturned nose twitching nervously.

“What is it?” I asked, meeting her at the door.

“It’s the woman. The prisoner,” she corrected herself, clearly still not used to the idea. “She will not eat. She will not come down to see you, either. And… Forgive me my lord, but I do not think it is because she does not understand my words.”

“Of course, it isn’t,” I snapped. The human was choosing to be difficult, I could already tell. What an irritating species.

Aiko’s hands tightened against each other, her ears flattening.

“I am sorry, my lord!”

“Don’t apologize. Not your fault,” I muttered as I began taking the stairs upwards two at a time. Aiko, and likely Ashken and Shoshen, were too gentle to even think of forcing the human to do anything, let alone dragging her down the stairs to meet me.

But I was not.

I burst into the room. The human woman was seated in a chair that was too large for her, glaring at a bowl of Sionnachan stew as if the meal had killed everyone she’d ever loved.

At the sound of my footsteps, she flinched and turned to me.

We stared at each other for a long moment in the low, fire-warmed light.

She looked different from before. She’d shed her outer layers of clothing, revealing a frame that was even smaller than I’d thought, no longer puffed up with odd white fabric. She had hair, too – a revelation. I’d had no idea all of that was under there, trapped under the tight hood she’d worn. It spilled over her bony shoulders and down her back in rich undulations of brown that gleamed reddish-gold wherever the firelight hit it.

Her eyes, however, were the same as before. Snow and honey. Fear, defiance, and accusation, all bound up together under the shadows of curling lashes.

“Aiko tells me you won’t eat.”

She merely looked at me, muted by her lack of understanding. Or by sheer stubbornness.

This day needs to end.

Why, why would she not eat? Did her kind not eat after all? She had a mouth, and teeth, and a throat. I thought of her mad dash into the shelter-less snow of the forest and grimly wondered if she meant to die of starvation rather than stay here with me.

Before I was aware of it, my feet were moving. She scrambled away in her high-backed chair. Too late, she tried to get down, but I was already there, standing between her and the table, blocking her. Her feet bumped my shins, and I noticed that her feet looked different now, too. Clearly, she’d been wearing boots before. Now they appeared to be bare, tiny toes curling inward, retreating at the inadvertent contact with my legs.

“Eat,” I snapped. I grabbed up the spoon from the bowl with one hand, my other gripping the arm of the chair as I leaned over her. Her honeyed gaze darted back and forth from the spoon to my face.

“I did not bring you here to let you starve,” I said, bringing the spoon closer to her lips.

She rolled her lips inward in protest, her mouth thinning into a white line. The infuriating creature would not do it. Something like panic gripped me. I hardened it. Turned it to anger.

“I’ll force this down your throat if I have to.”

I would do it, too. I’d already decided that I would not kill her, and the idea that I’d let a prisoner die on my watch was unacceptable to me. I released the arm of the chair, threading my fingers through her soft, shiny hair. I made a fist and tightened it until her head lurched back, her small mouth opening with a soft cry of affronted surprise.

I seized the chance, bringing the spoon upward. But before I could shove it in her mouth, she fixed me with a burning gaze and hissed something that threw me utterly off-balance. Off-balance because, somehow, we’d ended up in the bizarrely uneven position of her knowing my name when I did not know hers.

“Lord Wylfrael.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Torrance

The alien’s fist in my hair grew tighter, and I knew that my instinct was correct. So that is his name. I’d heard the phrase several times down in the entrance hall, and then the tall fox-looking alien who’d brought me to this room had mentioned it many times as well, her voice curving with deference around the syllables. AH-sha WOLF-rye-elle.

I didn’t have any clever follow-up to that, though. I’d simply wanted to make him stop, just for a moment. To see that I was smart, that I could listen, that I knew more about him than he’d maybe planned for. It seemed to have worked. Me calling him by his name had frozen him into a statue.

It was an absurd reaction. A reaction that might have gotten me killed. But I couldn’t help the exhausted giddiness that suddenly rose in my throat. My lips parted. I started to laugh.

Instantly, the statue thawed. His eyes narrowed viciously, flashing to my mouth. The next thing I knew, I was coughing and spluttering, half choking on warm, salty liquid, my teeth banging against a stone spoon. Asha Wylfrael released my hair, and I leaned forward, hacking and wheezing. When I’d recovered from my coughing fit, I raised my streaming eyes to find Asha Wylfrael coolly poised and waiting, his face smoothed into expressionlessness. The spoon he held was already filled with more soup, an unspoken but easily understood threat.

“Fine,” I croaked, holding out my hand for the spoon. It didn’t seem like there was any way to avoid eating it now, and by this point, I doubted it was poison. Why get me all the way up here just to poison me, when Asha Wylfrael could have killed me with a flick of his black-clawed fingers?

Defeated, I scooted my butt forward on the huge, flat seat of the pink crystal chair, taking the spoon and eating. The meaty soup’s flavours were unusual, the herbs more bitter than I was used to, but not necessarily unpleasant. A worrisome thought entered my mind – that even if it wasn’t intentionally poisoned, it might still make me sick. But I couldn’t do anything about that now. The ship, with all the human-safe rations, was gone. If I wanted to stay alive, I had to eat.

I should have thought of that before, I bemoaned silently, trying and failing to ignore the blue heat of Asha Wylfrael’s gaze on my mouth. I shouldn’t have refused the soup when she brought it. If I’d just eaten it in the first place, he wouldn’t have had to come up here.

But the fox-looking alien (whom I was pretty sure now was a “she”) was so gentle, so soft-spoken compared to him, that for the first time since Asha Wylfrael had pulled me from the snow, I hadn’t been afraid. I hadn’t been afraid to say no, to choose something for myself, even if it was as small as deciding not to eat the dinner. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Because now, he was here, my momentary illusion of safety and freedom evaporated under the cold scorch of his eyes.

I was too exhausted to maintain the defiance required to look at him, so I looked around the room instead. It was no prison cell. At least, not one with bars that I could see. It was fucking gorgeous, is what it was.

This was the highest room of the conical structure, and the ceiling arrowed upward into a point that gave the room a cathedral-like ceiling. The room wasn’t terribly large, since this was the narrowest point of the tower, after all, but the high, pointed ceiling made it feel expansive.

It seemed the aliens used their crystal trees in a similar way we’d use wood on Earth. The table and massive chair, built for an alien much larger than me, were carved from pink crystal, glinting like rose quartz. The walls were the same colour, and I was now fairly certain that the towers hadn’t been constructed from crystal, but rather carved out of gigantic trees that had grown up naturally in these spots. Behind me was a sumptuous-looking bed, its frame dark green, and ahead was a huge fireplace with a hearty fire that warmed the room. Still no wood there. Like I’d seen in the entry hall with the odd rock-like lanterns, this fire, too, seemed to have a large stone for fuel, a white boulder engulfed in a flickering, tear-drop-shaped flame. Beside the fire was a large indent carved into the floor and inlaid with spiralling designs of tile. I wasn’t sure what that was for, yet. Beyond that was what looked like a small room built out of the crystal wall. The door was shut, and the fact I couldn’t see inside unnerved me. A spark of panic ignited when I thought that it could be some kind of interrogation room.

My stomach churned, and I put down my spoon in the now-empty bowl. Asha Wylfrael said something above me, his tone biting, and I jumped, my gaze swinging wildly to meet his. He was frowning. At least, I thought he was. His features were arranged similarly to a human’s, but who knew if the expressions meant the same thing? But I heard him laugh… In the entrance hall, I’m sure I heard him laugh.

He spoke again, gesturing a black claw at my bowl. Confused, I followed the line of his finger until I saw a few bits of stringy material left. Some kind of fibrous root vegetable, I was pretty sure.

I hesitated for a moment before clarity dawned.

“Are you seriously telling me to eat all my vegetables right now?” I asked, tone rising in disbelief. It was so absurd I wanted to laugh. But the last time I’d done that in front of him, I’d nearly choked to death on the spoon he’d shoved in there, and I wasn’t looking to repeat that experience anytime soon. Under his relentlessly stern observation, I scooped up the last bites and ate them.

“There,” I said, pushing the bowl and spoon away. The bowl, like the spoon, was made of some kind of stone, a different material from the crystal. It looked like marble, green with veins of gold.

I couldn’t tell if he was satisfied with that or not. His jaw tightened, his eyes pinned to me with a severity that made me recoil and turn away.

“Thank you for the food,” I said softly. I needed to cool it with the defiance and the attitude. He hadn’t killed me yet, and I didn’t need to push my luck any further. Maybe if I was a good little human, who ate her veggies and minded her Ps and Qs, he’d leave me alone long enough for me to figure out what the hell I should do next.

No one said anything, and I found I couldn’t bear the silence. Heart flailing against my ribs, I turned to look at him once more, peeking out from behind the curtain of my hair.

His expression hadn’t exactly softened, but he no longer looked like he was mulling over the idea of incinerating me on the spot. Considering the fact I’d watched him use some kind of telekinesis to manipulate the snow without touching it, burning me to a crisp with just his eyes didn’t seem too far off a possibility.

“Thank you,” I said again, trying to sound sincere. Not that he understood me. I gave him a thin smile that I hoped looked appropriately meek but that probably just came out strained.

I’m sorry.

I almost said it. Sorry for being here. For coming to this world where we so clearly weren’t welcome. I knew we were in the wrong for landing here and stealing resources the way we had. But I hadn’t had a choice in that. I’d been wronged, just like he had.

And then I remembered the chaos and the carnage of his descent from the sky. I remembered the fact it was very likely he might have killed my friends. Min-Ji and Suvi’s faces flashed in my mind, and any thought of apologizing died in my throat.

So why hasn’t he killed me yet?

Asha Wylfrael said something to the fox lady. She darted forward, scooping up my bowl and spoon.

It hit me again that I was in a building with real fucking aliens. And not just little forest creatures. Intelligent beings, with clothing and customs and language.

I couldn’t stop staring at the female one. She had a less human face than Asha Wylfrael did. She really did look like a fox. Her face was a flaming orange colour, not furry, but her skin looking like soft down. Soft white flecks were dusted across her cheeks, almost like freckles. Her nose was pink and pointed, nearly a snout, her ears high and twitchy. She was taller than me, well over six feet tall, but very lean, with long arms and legs covered in that same bright orange down. Her tail was huge and fluffy, as was a white and orange mane of fur-like hair that ran down the back of her neck. She was dressed in a shockingly pretty cream-coloured silk vest and matching trousers and slippers, the fabric embroidered with tiny pink and green triangular trees. The loveliness of the garments, the embroidered forests, made something lurch inside me. It was the same feeling I’d had in the stained-glass-like tunnel with Asha Wylfrael. A feeling of confused kinship, a heartsick nostalgia that made me wonder just how different we really were from each other.

Even though she was doing Asha Wylfrael’s bidding, I decided that I liked her. She’d been so gentle with me when she’d shown me up here, and her green, cat-like eyes held a wary softness. She hadn’t dragged me, her strong fist around my arm, the way Asha Wylfrael had. She’d seemed nearly more afraid of me than I was of her, to be honest.

Which is kind of fair. I’m the one who invaded her world.

“Thank you,” I said, this time speaking only to the tall female. I meant it more when I said it to her.

Her green eyes went huge and darted to Asha Wylfrael. She backed away, her ears flattening like a frightened cat’s.

Oops. I guess I did something wrong.

I wanted to say something else, something more to her, but decided against it. At least for now. If she came back alone, without him, I’d try again.

But for now, I didn’t have the energy for anything else. Now that I was sitting, my body was turning to shivering mush, my muscles destroyed from the adrenaline and the strain of the day. The food was warm and heavy in my stomach, and I had to stay alert and not give in to the fatigue. I waited wearily, wondering what else they’d want to do with me tonight.

Nothing, it turned out. Thank God.

Asha Wylfrael said something in a low voice, and the fox alien replied and headed for the door. Relief poured through me when Asha Wylfrael, after a long, piercing look, turned and followed her. Nothing else was said to me when he swept through the door. Just before it closed behind him, I noticed the white bandages slung across his torso and patched over his torn and bleeding skin.

The sight of those bandages filled me with despair. He had cleaned this day off of him. He would heal and would go back to whatever sort of alien life he’d been living. Meanwhile, I…

I’d still be here. Alone.

Wondering how the ever-loving fuck I was going to make it through this.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Wylfrael

“Do you still wish me to bring her down to your chamber, my lord?”

I almost missed Aiko’s question. I’d been too busy running over the encounter with the prisoner, alternating between irritation and confusion.

“What? Ah. No.” There was no point, now. I did not even know what I had hoped to accomplish with that in the first place. I couldn’t understand her language, nor she mine. I’d gotten her to eat, which I considered a small victory, though a rather pathetic one. I doubted I’d get anything else useful out of her tonight.

I need to prioritise getting to Rúnwebbe as soon as possible. I had to be able to talk to her. To interrogate this little human with the summer-sweet eyes who seemed to oscillate so wildly between defiant and demure, willful and wary. This tiny invader who did not know enough of me to be afraid of me, but who felt it, sometimes, suddenly remembering the way one might remember a forgotten object in another room. I could see it when her eyes went white all the way around the gold. And when her heartbeat hammered in her throat.

An impossibly slender column, that throat. Stupidly thin, if you asked me.

Which no one did.

“Don’t you think her neck is too skinny?” I huffed as Aiko and I reached the landing outside my bedroom. “It’s a miracle she made it across the cosmos at all with a neck that breakable.”

“My lord?” A concerned warble had entered Aiko’s voice. She was right to sound worried. I sounded like a half-mad fool.

“Never mind. Thank you for everything, Aiko. You are dismissed,” I said, rubbing my fingertips viciously across my forehead. Aiko bid me a guarded goodnight, then turned tail and disappeared down the stairs and into the tunnel.

I went into my room. It was essentially a larger version of the one I’d just left upstairs, complete with a bed, a bath laid into the floor near the fire, a table and two chairs, and a smaller chamber with a toilet and washbasin off to the side.

My eyes landed on something that had not been there before. Though I’d dismissed them, either Shoshen or Ashken had brought a bowl of stew and a goblet of ale and left it all on the table for me. Considering how many stairs it took to get here from the kitchen, I was betting it was Shoshen.

Good lad…

I sat down heavily in the chair and took up the goblet, staring at it broodingly. The goblet was made of silver tree crystal carved into such a thin cup that it was transparent as a newly-formed sheet of ice. Inside, the ale was a dark umber swirl.

I tilted the glass, letting the firelight filter through it, turning the brown to red. But that reminded me of the light hitting the human’s hair upstairs, and suddenly all I could feel was the fine, silken strands sliding across the skin of my hand.

I chugged the ale, fuming.

Was I going to have to make sure she ate every meal?

The Sionnachans would be too timid for such a task. But I didn’t have time to watch her at every meal, making sure she didn’t starve. I still had to deal with Skalla. My fangs tightened, wings tensing against the chair’s back when I thought of him out there, unhinged and unleashed, with no one to hold him or help him or stop him. No one to help those he encountered, either.

Curse the council!

I finished the last sip of ale and wiped a violent hand across the back of my mouth, breathing heavily. They should have opened their gates! Without their power, there was no way I could deal with Skalla. Even Maerwynne and I together hadn’t been able to stop him and bind him. And even if I could somehow track him down and subdue him without killing him, what then? Bring him back here?

Impossible.

I thought of trying to hold Skalla prisoner here, the way I was doing with the human, and laughed bitterly. I’d be dealing with a lot more than pouty refusals to eat, that was for certain. I’d likely be faced with dozens of Sionnachan corpses in Skalla’s wake, and I absolutely refused to let anything like that happen. It was why I’d fought with him, forced him out of this world and nearly died facing him when he’d appeared here so long ago.

I ran my thumb back and forth over the crystal goblet, remembering what Maerwynne had said. That he was going to find his mate, cure his star-darkness, and join the council. Considering that seemed to be the only way to find out what was going on in Heofonraed, it seemed a decent enough plan. But finding one’s mate could take eons. Would he even find her in time? Before his star map went out like a candle burning down into nothing?

I blew out a weary sigh when I realized that I should be doing the same as Maerwynne. Trying to find my mate before this star-darkness began to affect me, too. But I couldn’t in good conscience begin such a search now and leave all my other duties unattended. Not while Skalla was smashing his way through the cosmos.

But the only way I’ll be able to speak to the council about Skalla is if I join, and I can only join if I have a mate…

My wounds ached, and my head throbbed at the maddening circle of it. I couldn’t let Skalla continue his berserker rampage. The only way to stop him required that I find my mate. But finding my mate could take many mortal generations, which meant Skalla would continue his rampage anyway.

I hurled the goblet. It hit the wall above the fireplace, shattering into a dizzying storm of falling fragments, like snow.

“Oh, my lord! Let me help you clean that up!”

I rose, finding Aiko on the landing outside, staring wide-eyed at the mess.

“I suppose neither you nor Shoshen quite knows what it means to be dismissed for the night,” I replied wryly, trying to keep the bite of impatience out of my voice. I should have closed the door.

“Forgive me, my lord! I was bringing the firestone you requested for the landing!”

I noticed the flickering light out there now, catching on her orange and white mane of fluffy hair.

“Thank you. Now you may go. Get some rest,” I said wearily, approaching the door and laying my hand on it.

For the second time, she said goodnight and hurried down the stairs. I liked her, and her brother and father, but stone of the cursed sky I hoped they’d all stay away now, in the other tower for the night, so that I could have half a heartbeat on my own to think.

But despite my need for solitude, I called out and stopped her before she disappeared.

“Aiko?”

The Sionnachan instantly turned back to look at me from her place below on the steps.

“Yes, my lord?”

I wasn’t seeing Aiko now, but rather the human’s little face as I gripped her hair, her delicate throat exposed, her eyes narrowed in accusatory triumph. I could practically hear the echo of her voice in the hallway. In my head. Lord Wylfrael…

I blinked away the memory, focusing once again on the waiting servant on the stairs. For a moment, I thought about telling Aiko, “Never mind,” and sending her on her way once more.

The human is my prisoner. I need to know more about her people, what their capabilities and goals are, what their crimes were. I do not need to wonder about things like –

“Find out the prisoner’s name.”

If my command surprised Aiko, she did not show it. She merely gave me a silent “yes” with her fists before finally descending for the night.

I closed the door this time upon re-entering the chamber, trying to give myself some space and silence to think. But thinking didn’t get me very far. My thoughts chased each other, each duty before me seeming more important than the last but unable to be completed until I dealt with other things first.

But I wouldn’t be able to deal with anything at all, except maybe handling the tiny weak human, if I didn’t get some rest. I could feel my power retreating, sputtering like wind-whipped flame inside me. Before I could even attempt to do anything else, I had to let my strength recover.

I stripped out of my blood-stained trousers and tossed them aside. I ran a little water into the intricately tiled bath, splashing it over my legs and my wings, washing any remaining dried blood away. My wings were in good shape, at least. Luckily Skalla hadn’t shredded them. Wings took so much longer to heal than the wounds on my torso would.

Naked, I stalked across the room, water dripping on the floor in my wake. I tossed myself on top of the white sotasha fur bedspread and lay on my back, wings spread out beneath me, my hands behind my head. I glared up at the room’s ceiling, wondering what the human was doing on the other side of the crystal. Even being unfamiliar with her species, I knew she was exhausted. Had she fallen into bed, like me? Or was she still awake, pacing the room like a caged animal, thinking of ways to escape?

She won’t escape. Of that much, I was certain. If she tried, I’d hear her on the stairs outside my room, even in my sleep. And if she did somehow get past me, she’d never make it far in all that snow.

Trying to content myself with the fact that at least one part of this situation was under control, I let my eyes slide shut.

But behind closed lids, all I could see was her face as she said my name.

And I did not feel in control at all.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Torrance

Iforced myself to stay awake for as long as possible, in case anyone came back. But no one did. Before collapsing, I did a sweep of the room, familiarizing myself with everything. With relief, I found that the extra room off to the side wasn’t some interrogation room or torture closet, but what looked like a room with a toilet and alien sink. It wasn’t a design I was used to, but it was close enough that I could tell. There was a tiled basin built with a hole into the floor for squatting over. Above it was what appeared to be a sort of tap coming out from the wall for rinsing down the contents. A similar tap was positioned above a high, tiled sink. There was no mirror, which was probably a good thing. I didn’t need to know what a mess I looked like after today.

I made use of the toilet, my legs shaking at the simple exertion of squatting. Not seeing anything that resembled toilet paper, I used water – frigid cold, making me yelp – to splash against my skin. I braced myself against the cool crystal wall, dripping and waiting to air dry before I pulled my panties and trousers back up.

Ultimately, I decided not to bother. My panties were soaked with sweat from the stress of the day, and I had no desire to put them back on against my freshly rinsed skin. I peeled off my panties and trousers, then stood on quivering legs, cold water rolling in beads down to my bare toes.

Dressed only in the plain grey T-shirt issued by the crew on the ship, I stepped up to the sink – too high, meant for someone much taller than me – and noticed a small crystal jar of something on the edge. The jar was green, which gave the white, creamy contents an olive cast. Soap? God, I hope so.

I scooped some onto my finger, giving an experimental sniff. It smelled vaguely floral, and I wondered what kind of flowers this world had. Then, my heart sank at the thought I’d probably still be here when spring rolled around to find out.

If I’m still alive by then.

I pulled the lever on the tap and water gushed out. Warmer this time, thankfully. The creamy stuff spread into a smooth, fragrant lather over my skin before rinsing away clean. I decided to repurpose it as laundry detergent, and gave my panties a quick wash, too.

Holding my wrung-out panties in one hand and my trousers in the other, I peeked out of the small bathroom. Still nobody in the bedroom. Good. The last thing I needed was to meet an alien now with my pants down. Literally.

I hurried over the smooth pink floor to the bed. I circled around the massive piece of furniture so that if anyone came in right now, I’d be blocked from their view from the chest down. On either side of the bed, instead of bedside tables, were tall sets of crystal shelves carved into the wall. A few of the shelves had items, including what looked like spare linens or things that might serve as towels. I laid my panties to dry in what I hoped was a discreet spot then wriggled into my trousers. Once I was covered again, I felt brave enough to head back out into the main room.

My snowsuit, boots, and socks had been dumped in a damp, messy pile and were still where I’d left them on the floor. I retrieved them and put them on the shelves by the bed, too. I wanted to make sure I knew where everything was in case I needed to dress quickly for some reason. Too bad I don’t have my rock hammer.

That thought struck me like a blow from the very hammer that had entered my mind. Bereft, I stared at the clothes on the shelves. The only items I had left in this entire world, and they weren’t even mine. The clothing, right down to my underwear and bra, was a uniform forced on me by the ship’s crew. There was nothing of old Torrance, nothing of my real life, left anymore.

Nothing except me.

The little energy I had, fuelled by the boost in calories from the stew and adrenaline, seeped out of me like someone had pulled a plug out of a small drain somewhere inside me. The air around me became a physical weight, pressing down on my shoulders until I could barely breathe. I didn’t want to lie down, didn’t want to sleep. Didn’t want to make myself even more vulnerable than I was even for a moment. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay standing for long.

With my last dregs of strength, I went to the chamber’s door and tested it.

Unlocked.

I couldn’t even manage excitement at that fact. They didn’t need to put a lock on my door because they knew what I knew. That I’d never survive on my own beyond these walls. That, combined with the fact that Asha Wylfrael could probably just slam my door shut with a wave of his hand, not even touching it, meant that a physical lock wasn’t needed.

What does he want with me?

We didn’t understand each other, so it wasn’t like I could give him any real information. Maybe he wanted to punish me, but then why put me in a beautiful room and make sure I was fed?

A new horror gripped me. There was no doubt in my mind he was male. Could he want me for something even worse than just keeping a simple prisoner?

My stomach dropped, and I clutched the door for support. Clearly, there was interspecies breeding present here, considering how some of Asha Wylfrael’s features so closely resembled those of the fox people and yet in other ways, he looked completely different.

Now I wished there was a lock on my door. To keep him out. Not that it would do much good against someone of his obvious power.

I stumbled over to the bed. Hoisting myself into it was a feat of strength I didn’t know I had, but, arms like noodles afterwards, I managed it. My wrist throbbed, pain I’d forgotten and ignored until now. I shook my head at the redness there, the beginnings of the bruise. Striking myself with the hammer seemed like it had happened a lifetime ago instead of earlier today. I wondered if Suvi and Min-Ji and the other women had escaped on the ship, or if they’d been killed. By him.

A choked sound ripped out of my throat. A sob without tears. Gasping and shivering, I got under the thick, white fur and burrowed into the pillows and mattress. Like a child hiding from monsters, I pulled the fur duvet up and over my head, curling into the darkness as if it would protect me.

But it wouldn’t. I knew it wouldn’t.

I wasn’t a child anymore.

And the monsters, it turned out, were very, very real.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Wylfrael

Iwoke at dawn. I could tell the sun was rising by the soft bloom of colour warming the walls of the chamber, making the deep pink into something almost orange. The crystal walls were too thick to let in the starlight at night, necessitating firestone lanterns. But sunlight penetrated with much stronger rays, making the castle glow almost as if from within during the day. When the sun rose, it warmed this tower first. Then, it trekked above the centre tower, the Day Tower. The third tower was the Eve Tower, which lay closest to the mountains where the sun set each night.

I sat up in bed, stretching my wings experimentally. Good. The shallowest wounds, the ones created by the human weapons, had already healed during sleep. The deeper ones, inflicted by my cousin, would take longer, though.

I bit back a rush of impatience at that. I didn’t have time to sit around here waiting to heal. I gave a grim, short laugh when I remembered that things could have been worse. I could have been on the brink of death, forced into an ages-long slumber to recover, the way I had been after my last fight with my cousin.

I slipped out of the bed, feeling a sharp ache all around my torso and back where Skalla’s claws had dug in so deep. My tail snapped back and forth, my wings flickering with tension. Where are you, cousin?

A soft rap at the door pulled me from thoughts of Skallagrim.

“Enter.”

Shoshen opened the door and came in, ears flattened.

“My lord. I heard you rise and wanted to bring you fresh clothing.”

I took a bundle of soft Sionnachan leather from his hands.

“You heard me rise?” I asked, lifting a questioning brow. Sionnachans had excellent hearing, but not good enough to hear me from the servants’ quarters in the Day Tower.

“Ah, yes. I have been out there for some time.” He pointed out the door to the landing. “I did not want to wake you, so I waited to hear movement.”

“You’ve been waiting out there since before the sun rose?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Ashken, Shoshen, and Aiko exemplified the Sionnachan spirit. Loyal, industrious, and gentle.

“Thank you,” I said. Shoshen looked pleased, a smile tugging at his orange face.

I pulled on the fresh trousers, along with one of my vests, and a pair of boots, no doubt taken from my old room in the Eve Tower.

As if sensing my thoughts, Shoshen said, “Your old room is ready too, my lord, should you choose to use it.”

“I will remain here for the time being,” I informed him. As long as that human was in the room overhead, I wouldn’t sleep anywhere else. “Have you heard any movement upstairs?”

“None, my lord.”

Hmm. Was that good or bad? I knew nothing about human sleeping patterns or needs, but the silence above made me uneasy.

“Some breakfast, please. For the human and for me,” I said to Shoshen.

“Yes, my lord!” He left.

I wasn’t even hungry. In all honesty, I just wanted to give Shoshen something to do that would provide me with a little uninterrupted quiet.

But it was too quiet. Shoshen was right – no movement from above. My jaw ticked.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had sprinted up the stairs and yanked open the door to the human’s room.

My eyes scanned the dawn-flamed chamber, muscles tensing at the idea that she might have collapsed somewhere on the floor during the night. But I did not see her anywhere on the floor, nor in the bathtub. The door to the water closet was open, and she was not there, either.

Which only left the bed.

I knew she was there before my eyes landed on the lump under the white bedding. Her distinct scent was strongest over there, laced with the fragrances of clean, soft fur and soap. I stole over to the bed, staying silent in case, like me, she could be woken by sound. I wanted the chance to observe her unnoticed. To look down at this interloper, my prisoner, without her speaking my name and looking back.

My gaze fell on her sleeping face, and my entire body stilled.

Every time I see this human, she is different.

Removing her protective gear and outer clothing had turned her into another creature entirely. Sleep, it seemed, did something similar. Gone was the panic and tension, the fight and the fear from her face. No more terror, no triumph. She was on her back, only her head, neck, and hands visible. Every feature had smoothed, her brow relaxed, her fingers slack against the fur. Tiny breaths made the furs rise and fall. She looked nearly innocent like this – an innocent invader. Dawn brushed her pale skin and dark eyelashes with pinkish-gold, gold that I knew would match her eyes if she were to open them. Standing over her like this, I was reminded of the first words I’d said to her, out there in the snows of Sionnach.

Wake up, woman, and tell me just what you think you’re doing in my world.

The question was still there. The urge to wake her, though, was not. Now that I knew she was alive, I could rest a little easier in this moment of quiet. This moment with no running, no fighting, no making sure she followed me or ate.

“Why can you not always be this easy to deal with?” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.

A little pucker appeared between her brows, as if, even in sleep, she wished to display some sort of defiance against me. Instinctively, I snapped open my wings and arched them overhead to block some of the light hitting her face.

Her face once again relaxed, a silken sigh emitting from parted lips. I adjusted the angle of my wings to better shade her, and it was only when the movement made one of my wounds throb in protest that I stopped to wonder what in the blasted stars and stone I was doing.

She was my prisoner! I was not here to help her sleep better.

Let her face the dawn. Face me.

My wings drew back in a movement so quick it made dark hairs rustle around her face. The pucker of tension between her brows returned as the light flooded in, and that both satisfied and bothered me.

I was allowing the human to do far too much of that. Bother me. She was weak. Pitiful. A fragile creature who’d had to build a machine just to get here at all. I was a god. I could smash the stone of the sky with a single blow of my fist and cross the universe with one beat of my wings.

And yet…

And yet, I was left unsettled, on edge, wings flickering with tension and fangs grinding, all because of the little human sleeping in this bed.

I should leave the chamber now. Leave, and not return until I have Rúnwebbe’s web so I can properly question her.

The door stood open from when I’d come through it as if agreeing with my assessment and beckoning me outwards.

I did not go.

I flung myself into the chair by the fire and waited.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Torrance

My eyes opened, and I lay still for a long time, trying to make sense of the glowing spire of rose gold overhead. A plush mattress cushioned me, and thick, fluffy blankets warmed me. This was way more comfortable than my bed on the ship…

The ship!

I wasn’t on the fucking ship. I was at the top of an alien tower guarded by the male who’d likely killed my friends. I felt as if I were trapped in some dark fairy tale, only there was no window, no ladder of hair I could let down. It was just me.

Except, it wasn’t just me. I realized quickly I was not alone. My eyes landed on the chair near the hearth. My breath shrivelled in my lungs, and every muscle tensed as I fought not to move and draw his notice.

He was here. Asha Wylfrael. In my room while I slept. From here, I could see him seated in profile. He slouched back against the chair, his long, muscled legs stretched in from of him and his wings draping down and to the sides. His fingers were steepled together against his chest – a chest that was now mostly covered with what looked like a black leather vest. His broad jaw was tight, his eyes ahead, staring intently into nothing. He looked like a sullen dark prince, as if he’d moodily tossed himself into his throne.

He didn’t stay that way for long. His wings folded brusquely behind him and his back went ramrod straight. He knows I’m awake. Panic made my throat go tight and dry.

He rose, the movement one of perfectly contained power. He turned towards the bed, no longer a sprawled-out prince but a king, a monarch in his realm.

“How long have you been here?” I whispered, sitting up and drawing the furs against my chest, as if they could somehow protect me.

His only answer was a penetrating stare.

I broke eye contact when I heard a sound at the door. One of the fox aliens, not the woman who’d been in my room last night, entered with a tray.

More room service, I thought dryly. How long could they keep me in here? And where would I even go if I was released?

The other alien was very similar in appearance to the female one, but had broader shoulders, larger hands and ears, and held himself in such a way that made me think he might be male. Like the other one, he had green, cat-like eyes, but no white flecking through his fur. Instead, he was completely orange, from the shaggy fur of his head to the downy stuff that covered his whole body. He wore a vest, like Asha Wylfrael, and matching trousers and slippers made of what looked like pale blue silk.

Asha Wylfrael and the fox man had a short conversation, probably about me, speaking as if I weren’t there. The fact I couldn’t understand anything they said was maddening. Like I was trapped behind a thick pane of glass, banging from the inside to be heard, to be a part of the world again.

The fox alien left. I watched him go warily, not wanting to be alone with Asha Wylfrael again. What the fuck was he doing in here while I was asleep? That was more ominous than I wanted to even consider. Having someone else around, especially someone who seemed as gentle and calm as the fox creatures, lent me a little comfort. Even though the fox aliens were obviously my captors, too, they seemed almost sweet. The female one yesterday had been so gentle, her voice trilling and soft, when she’d led me up here.

Not like him. Him, with the broad black wings and the stars on his skin and the eyes that tried to tear me open.

I won’t let him, I thought, steeling myself. If he tries anything, I’ll fight. I’m weaker than him, but I refuse to let him terrify me with just a look.

He didn’t try anything in that moment besides sweeping imperiously back to the table he’d been lounging at before. This time, he sat in the opposite chair, the one turned more towards the bed. His wings rustled, and he held out a large, glowing hand towards the other chair in a gesture that couldn’t mean anything else but sit here. Now.

I thought about refusing, turning up my nose at the offered seat and the food and him, and I hesitated. A ripple of tension went through his wings. His eyes narrowed, gleaming blue slits, and then he was up. I tensed, assuming he’d come for me in the bed. Instead, he stalked to the other chair, yanked its massive crystal body back as if it weighed no more than a plastic lawn chair, then stopped. Both he and the chair were fully facing me, now. His hands rested on the chair’s high back, the top of which only came partway up his chest.

Every bodily instinct told me not to go. Asha Wylfrael loomed, wings spiking darkly into the air, looking like some sort of savagely beautiful demon guarding a gateway into Hell. This felt somehow pivotal, like the moment in a story when the naïve young woman eats food in the fae realm and is trapped there. Forever.

My scalp prickled, the ghost of Asha Wylfrael’s fist in my hair. A reminder that I had no choice, no choice but to go to him, to go through the demon’s door, to eat the fae’s food.

I slid out of the bed.

I should have been prepared for the way my muscles gave out when my feet hit the floor. But I wasn’t.

He was, though.

Before I could hit the hard crystal and probably crack my poor human tailbone, hands were on me. Two huge, powerful hands, nearly circling my entire waist. I froze at the contact, breath catching painfully in my throat.

Asha Wylfrael’s hands emanated heat. For some reason, this surprised me. So much of him seemed cold and icy, echoing the landscape outside. The frost-white hair, the blue eyes that seemed to freeze as much as they burned. But there was no denying the heat of his contact, seeping through my grey cotton T-shirt. The heat was at my back, too, as he’d apparently hauled me up against his chest when catching me. I stared down, panic rising at the sight of his sharp black claws so close to the vulnerable skin of my abdomen, only flimsy fabric in between.

“I can stand up,” I choked out. “Let me go.”

So much adrenaline was coursing through my veins now I probably could have run a damn marathon if I’d wanted to. My muscles ached from yesterday’s exertions, and the stress made me even shakier, but there was strength there, too. Thank God I ate something last night.

Grimly, I realized it wasn’t God I should be thanking for making me eat. My scalp prickled again, more urgently this time, the tingles throbbing downwards into my spine.

Carefully, slowly, I put more and more weight onto my feet, straightening my legs and showing him I could stand on my own. He didn’t let go right away, as if not quite trusting I could do it.

“That’s one thing you obviously have to learn about humans,” I said. “We’re stubborn.”

He murmured something in response – a dark, hot whisper near my ear, his breath a shock of sensation that made me shiver.

I worried he’d said something like, “I don’t care if you can stand, I won’t let you go.” But he retreated, his hands drawing away from my waist. I panted, my body burning even while goosebumps puckered over my skin, as he strode back to the table. He leaned back against it, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his face a cool, unreadable mask.

It was a test, with him as the only judge. My hands curling into sweaty fists, I vowed I wouldn’t fail.

I began to walk. My muscles quivered but otherwise held strong. When I reached the chair, I hauled myself into it with relief, feeling like I’d crossed into safety.

The illusion of safety was shattered when the chair scraped into movement. I gasped, clutching at the pink crystal arms of the chair as Asha Wylfrael pushed me towards the table from behind. He didn’t stop until the arms of the chair collided with the table, creating a cage of crystal I wouldn’t be able to escape without shimmying down on the chair’s seat, sliding to the floor, and crawling out.

From behind the chair, Asha Wylfrael reached down for one of the plates on the tray ahead. I didn’t move my head, but my eyes slid to the side, staring at the ferocious curve of his star-bitten bicep as he placed a plate in front of me.

I followed the glowing line of his arm down to the plate. The food there was mostly recognizable, I thought. There was what looked like bread, but dark red in colour, like it had been soaked in wine. There was also a small jar of a taupe mixture that looked like some sort of paté, and beside that, a collection of shiny, black spheres that reminded me of tapioca pearls.

Asha Wylfrael and I noticed the stone knife at the same time. There was a hiss of sound above me, a sharp intake of breath. We lunged for it simultaneously, but he was faster, his hand closing powerfully over the green crystal handle. Swearing under my breath, I let my hands fall to my lap. Asha Wylfrael stood staring down at me, his silence a rebuke that needed no words, no shared language.

“It wasn’t like I was about to stab you or something,” I muttered, daring to look up at him from beneath my lashes. “I just…” My words disappeared, an unexpected tightness entering my throat. I just wanted something, something I could use, something I could keep, something to make me feel safe…

I blinked rapidly, not willing to let a single tear fall in front of him. He watched me impassively. Then, he did something surprising.

He held the knife up, close to my face. I flinched back, afraid he was going to cut me, but he didn’t. Instead, he ran the edge of his thumb down the knife’s edge, pressing so hard I saw a divot form in the flesh.

No blood.

Heat flooded my cheeks, a combination of humiliation and powerless despair. It’s a fucking alien butter knife.

I lurched forward, my elbows hitting the table. My head sank down into my hands, my palms pressing against my burning eyes until all I could see was darkness. I wanted to stay there. The darkness. I’d lost so much – my dad, my home, the friends I’d had on this planet. Now, here I was, a prisoner not even trusted enough to hold a goddamn butter knife.

“Why are you even here?” I asked dully. He hadn’t killed me yet, and he didn’t seem to have come to hurt me. He couldn’t interrogate me, either. So what, then?

I didn’t expect an answer. And I didn’t get a verbal one. But there was something. Something that startled me enough to pull my hands away from my face.

It was the sound of stone and crystal hitting my plate.

I blinked at the knife as it rattled back into place, as if it had been carelessly tossed down from above. I looked up questioningly, seeking Asha Wylfrael’s face but only finding his back as he walked away from me to the other side of the table. When he sat down in the chair facing me, he did not look at me, but wordlessly began to eat from the other plate.

He came to eat fucking breakfast with me?

I watched him incredulously, wondering if I was dreaming. This scene was just way too bizarre. The two of us seated across from each other, with matching plates, like we were sharing a meal at some bistro together.

“Why are you even here?” I asked again, the question a whisper this time. His eyes flashed to mine, and I found myself looking back down at my plate. My gaze lingered on the knife, now still.

Tentatively, I picked it up, my fingers curving around the dark emerald handle. Across the table, Asha Wylfrael stopped eating, as if waiting to see if I’d hurl it at his head even knowing now that it couldn’t cut. When I didn’t, he took a swig of something from a mug.

Why did you give this to me?

Had he tossed it back down on my plate simply because he’d been satisfied the knife couldn’t actually do any damage?

Or had he noticed my reaction – my defeat when he’d taken it from me – and changed his mind about keeping it from me?

Or maybe it was all a trap. Something meant to look like carelessness, or kindness, that was supposed to lure me into a false sense of security.

“Did you kill them?”

I hadn’t even realized I’d asked the question until the words were out of my mouth. Asha Wylfrael lowered his mug, staring at me intently, as if by reading my lips from across the table he’d be able to make more sense of my foreign words.

“Did you” – I pointed at him – “kill” – I took the knife and mimed aiming it at my own throat – “them?” At the last word, I swung the knife wildly to the side, pointing towards a wall, beyond the wall. To the place my friends had once been. “Did you kill them? Did you kill the other women? Humans?”

Asha Wylfrael’s fox-like ears twitched. He leaned forward, bracing his starlit forearms on the table.

“Humans,” he growled. I shuddered at the disarming sound – the ripple of his deep alien voice wrapped around a word I actually understood. His eyes flicked to the knife I held. “Kill humans.”

He didn’t nod or anything like that, but there was a sense of acknowledgement in his repetition of the words. I knew in the deepest parts of myself that he’d understood my question. And had now answered it.

So, he did kill them.

Obviously not everyone, as the ship had left with some sort of crew. My heart twisted when I thought of Min-Ji and Suvi. They were so late getting back to the ship. Is there even a chance they made it?

I remembered how easily Asha Wylfrael had erected and then toppled that massive wall of snow, and I doubted it. He was too powerful. He could have stopped them in their tracks before they ever reached the safety of the ship.

“And will you kill me, too?”

Asha Wylfrael cocked his head, trying to make sense of the word “kill” among all the others.

“Asha Wylfrael… Kill me?” I once again aimed the knife at my own throat, this time to emphasize who it was I meant.

His silvery brows rose in an apparent mixture of understanding and surprise. He leaned back in his chair and studied me, one hand’s fingers drumming a slow beat against his leather-clad thigh, the other hand rubbing thoughtfully at his chin.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have asked him that. He looks like he’s actually considering it now!

Cursing myself for being such an idiot, I tightened my hold on the knife. It was so dull it was basically worthless.

But right now, it was just about all I had.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Wylfrael

The blunt, if clumsy, courage of her question gave me pause. Made me stop and study her, rubbing my hand across my jaw. I wasn’t considering the answer to the question itself – I already knew I wouldn’t kill her now. I was considering her. This fragile creature with her skinny little neck, useless little knife, and enough spirit to go chasing down the question of her own death, even if it meant throwing that question at the feet of a god.

“What would you do if I tried?” I mused, more to myself than to her, wondering just how far that spirit would take her. I knew she wouldn’t understand the question, and she didn’t. But she held the knife a little higher anyway, as if in answer.

I smirked at the futile fierceness of the gesture.

“I’m not going to kill you,” I finally said. I waved my hand in a dismissive motion. I didn’t know how to construct a sentence in the negative in her language, having only just learned the words “kill” “you” and “me,” so the hand movement would have to be enough. I did not feel like putting more effort into the communication than that. Let her understand me, or let her not. If she is afraid that I will kill her, it is only because she has earned that fear. Let her deal with the consequences of invading my world. I do not owe her anything.

But if I did not owe her anything…

Why had I given her back that knife in the first place?

Because it’s dull, I told myself as she watched me and clutched it. Because she could never hope to harm me, or herself, with it even if she tried.

It was certainly not because of the way she’d slumped forward, as if in grief when I’d taken it, such a small thing, away from her.

No, that was not the reason. Because if that was why – if I were for some absurd reason beginning to care about what this criminal human felt…

I need some space from her. I needed to keep myself away until I’d seen Rúnwebbe and could properly interrogate her. Once I could put words to all her vicious motivations, learn from her own mouth just how much wrong she’d done by me, I would be able to find my equilibrium again.

“Worry less about me killing you and more about starving to death,” I grumbled, rising from my seat and walking to her side. I nudged the plate closer.

She stared down at the plate without moving for so long I thought I’d have to force her to eat again. But finally, keeping the knife in one hand, she picked up the bread with the other. She ate slowly and without looking at me.

When she’d finished the bread and started reaching for her mug of sweetened sotasha milk, I noticed a dark reddish-purple mark marring her wrist. Some sort of human colouring? It looks swollen, though…

Before her fingers closed around the mug’s handle, my hand shot out and gripped her wrist. She cried out with more than just surprise and anger when my thumb pressed into the spot. Hers was a sound unmistakable across species – a short and strangled melody of pain.

“A wound?” I asked, immediately loosening my hold. I did not let go, though. I raised her arm higher, inspecting the dark mark. No bleeding. A bruise? “When did this happen?”

She gave me no answer besides the curling of her fingers into a fist. I ran my thumb, more gently this time, along the swollen area, all the while mentally reviewing the places I’d touched her since yesterday. Her jaw, her waist, her upper arm… Had I grasped her flimsy little wrist here, too? I stroked the dark mark over and over, back and forth, wondering with something that felt far too much like shame if I’d done this.

The human shuddered, a feverish tremble running up her slender arm. I released her as if I’d been branded. She took back her arm and hid it beneath the table.

“What is your name?” I asked, my voice sounding harsh and hoarse in my ears. I cleared my throat, and the sound made her finally turn her small face back up to mine. “You already know mine. You called me Lord Wylfrael. What is your name?”

She pressed her lips against each other and looked away.

I fought the urge to grab her arm again, to make her face me even if it hurt, to force her to tell me what I wanted to know. It was bizarre – ridiculous – that I cared this much about her insignificant name at all.

But that didn’t stop the wanting.

“I will find out eventually, little human,” I muttered. It would only be a matter of time until I learned her name and everything else I wanted to know, too. In the meantime, I’d already gleaned one facet of information about her, whether she’d wanted me to or not.

As I stalked from the room, it was all I could think about, that blooming secret I’d stolen from her skin:

The hateful, ugly, beautiful colour of her body when it bruised.

I DECIDED THAT GETTING space from my prisoner, as I seemed so desperately to need, meant leaving the castle entirely. I stationed Shoshen outside her chamber and then went outside. I did not use any of my powers to whisk snow away from my path as I walked, instead ploughing directly through it, enjoying the seep of cold through my trousers and boots. I spread my wings as I walked, stretching the flesh, and breathed deeply of the winter air I knew so well. I headed for the back of the estate, pausing for a moment when I saw the remnants of last night – footsteps, and the pile of collapsed snow I’d heaved up to stop the human’s escape.

Breathing out harshly, my breath like smoke in the clear daylight air, I lifted my hand and drew upon my powers, smoothing the snow, erasing every mark. Not quite satisfied but not sure what else to do about it, I kept walking, entering the treeline that stood between the castle and the mountains. Back here, the sotasha barn stood, a broad building made of thick crystal tile that housed the animals Sionnachans used for leather, milk, fur, and meat. I could hear the massive, shaggy white beasts huffing and grunting inside. Beside the barn was a structure much more open to the air. A single sontanna stood there, its antlers and fur snowy silver, its mane a luminous pale pink, like Sionnach’s sky. It watched me warily. Pain hit me, like a blow, when I remembered this sontanna did not know me. Like Aiko, Ashken, and Shoshen, it was a descendent of creatures I’d once loved, and it looked at me like I was a stranger.

If Ashken and Shoshen had done their jobs as Masters of the Grounds, the sontanna would be well trained. I would be able to approach it, to command it, and ride it if I wished.

But I turned from it instead, forging further into the trees, until the silent sontanna, the snuffling sotasha, the castle, and my prisoner, were out of sight.

I did not stop walking until I hit the mountains. My wounds hurt, but I could tell that even the deepest ones inflicted by Skalla were healing well. Slowly, my power was returning. By tomorrow, I might be strong enough to open a sky door to Rúnwebbe’s world…

That thought spurred me on, gave me energy. I bent my legs and launched into the air, throttling higher and higher. Once high enough, I caught the wind, sailing easily among the mountains and over the valleys. I decided in the air I’d visit the nearest villages. I wanted to see what information they had about what had happened while I’d been gone, and to re-establish myself among them. To assert that I was still alive, that I was here. That I had returned, even when they’d all feared I wouldn’t.

The nearest village, even on wings as quick as mine, was nearly half a day’s flight from my castle. It would give me time and distance to think, I reasoned, as I set myself on the path.

But by the time I reached the village, though, I did not feel I’d had nearly enough time to think at all. I’d come to no new conclusions about the various problems pricking at me. I still had to visit Rúnwebbe before I’d be able to speak to the human, and beyond that, I still needed to tackle larger problems – Skalla and the council, the star-darkness, and finding my mate. The issues were bound up together in a tangled web that even Rúnwebbe would envy.

I pushed it all aside for now to focus on my current task, hating how the human’s face was the hardest to push aside of them all.

This Sionnachan village stood on a high, broad hill, bare in the middle of dense forest. At least, it had the last time I was here. It had grown since then, the buildings spilling down the hill into cleared land, pushing the forest back. The village buildings looked so squat and short compared to the spires of the castle I’d come from and the trees scattered around. Sionnachans made their buildings using materials from the trees, but they did not carve up into the trees themselves the way my father had done when he’d built the castle for my mother. Typically, Sionnachan buildings were boxy, or cylindrical, made from crystal tile and bricks, their roofs angled to help the snow slide off and not build up too heavily on top.

I landed at the base of the hill, in the centre of a lane mostly cleared of snow. I walked along the broad lane, which led up the hill. A sled pulled by two graceful sontanna crested the hill ahead of me, beginning the descent. I stepped aside to make way, taking note of the way the two Sionnachan males in the sled twisted to gape at me in disbelief as they passed. Another Sionnachan, who’d been sweeping snow away from her front door, dropped her broom and then hastily flattened her ears at the sight of me. I grunted a greeting at her, which caused her to nearly jump out of her tawny skin. When I took a step towards her, she gasped and fled inside, leaving her broom half-buried in the snow.

Getting answers may not be as easy as I’d hoped, I thought to myself as I retrieved her broom and stood it up against the bricks of her home. Here, beyond the mountains, the trees grew in slightly different variations. There were fewer pink and green trees and many more purple ones, which meant most of the buildings in the village glinted like purple gems among the snow.

I was glad to see so many new buildings. The village had clearly prospered in my time away. And yet, there was an arresting sort of relief that overtook me when I reached the top of the hill and found the main road through the village fundamentally unchanged. When my eyes fell on one of the largest buildings – a broad tiled cylinder shining in the afternoon sun – I knew exactly where it was I needed to go.

If I wanted answers, if I wanted to talk, where better a place to go than the local pub, where tongues were loosened by ale?

I unfurled my wings and flew there, landing at the pub’s door before wrenching it open and stepping inside.

I was right – this was the place to come for chatter. The main circular room of the pub was filled to the crystal rafters with it. More than two dozen Sionnachans ate, drank, and conversed along spiralling benches that curled inward from the rounded outer wall.

One by one, though, as the Sionnachans took notice of me at the door, they fell silent. Somewhere, a goblet smashed to the floor.

At the centre of the pub, where the long benches finally ended their inward swirl, was a large circular counter with a hollow in the middle where the pub master stood. For a brief moment, I thought I recognized him, with his distinctly spotted black and cream colouring and pale blue eyes. But he was taller than the last pub master I’d known. And younger. Another descendant, no doubt.

He was louder than the last pub master, Gershen, had been too. Louder, and apparently bolder. Where Gershen would have given me a brief, gruff greeting, barely audible over the sounds of the pub, this new one called out to me, his voice rich and clear, meeting my eyes with a grin when no other Sionnachan in the vicinity seemed capable of even drawing breath in my presence.

“Lord Wylfrael! Ashken sent a burrowbird with word that you’d returned. We all wondered if you’d come here.”

“I have returned,” I said, a perhaps redundant confirmation of what my appearance had already told them. But it seemed as if they needed more confirmation. Most of them looked like they couldn’t make any sense of what they were seeing.

A whisper from a bench on the other side of the pub caught my keen ears. “So old Ashken hasn’t lost his lane in the snow, then.”

“No, he has not,” I said crisply, reining in my annoyance at the way the villagers had so obviously doubted the word, and the sanity, of my old Master of the Grounds. “You would all do well to respect my staff whenever you come into contact with them, and to heed their words as if they were words direct from my lips.”

Flattened ears, and muttered phrases of “Yes, Lord Wylfrael. Of course, Lord Wylfrael,” rolled along the benches like wind bending the flowers in a field.

I frowned, not liking the way this interaction had begun. I did not enjoy the role of the angry lord, but angry was all I’d been since I’d awoken. I breathed in deeply, smelling firestone and meat and Sionnachan fur, fur just like my mother’s, and reminded myself to be calm. Civil. The Sionnachans were gentle and good, but they were clearly wary of me. I also reminded myself that, though they called me Lord Wylfrael, they were not beholden to me. My castle, and the forests around it, were my mother’s ancestral lands and now belonged to me. But I did not own the land they lived on in this village – they did. They called me lord, as they had also done for my father, not because we required it but out of their own half-fearful deference to stone sky immortality and power. Sionnachans had no kings, no landlords, and each village was completely autonomous of every other.

But because I was a stone sky god, with powers they could scarcely imagine and had never even witnessed in their lifetimes, to them I was not simply Wylfrael. I was the long-lost immortal lord, carved out of stories passed down by their parents and grandparents, a childhood legend brought to life right before their very eyes.

I did not want to be a half-forgotten legend. I wanted to exist here, to be real in this time and place. To be known as I had once known this world so well. A living god. Not a ghost.

“I’ve come to greet you all,” I said, my voice a controlled boom in the space. “To let you know that I have indeed returned, and to inquire about activities near my castle. A little over thirty days ago, a machine landed, bringing with it interlopers called humans. What do you know of them?”

The Sionnachans shifted on their benches, eyeing me and each other uneasily.

The pub master was the one who answered, the only one who seemed at all at ease with me in their midst.

“We know only what Ashken sent by burrowbird, my lord,” he called while polishing a goblet with a spare rag. “We heard tell of these people and their sled from the sky, but have not seen them ourselves. We thought it best to give them a wide berth, and they have not come to seek us out.”

So, basically what Ashken already told me, then. There had been no real contact between the invaders and my mother’s people. It was for the best. The Sionnachans were too peaceful to launch an attack against invaders the way I had done. I did not like to think what would have happened if the aggressive humans and their weapons had made their way here eventually…

“I will inform you now, then, that the humans have left. I do not believe they will be back.” I did not tell them that I’d killed nearly as many humans as had escaped on the machine. They were already unnerved by me. No need to frighten them further.

I decided not to tell them about my prisoner, either.

The crowd noticeably relaxed at my tidings, and I claimed that as a small victory.

I spent all afternoon in the pub, learning the names of the Sionnachans there and speaking with the pub master. As I’d assumed, he was a descendant of the old Gershen. His name was Garrshek, and he proved himself to be a gregarious, grinning sort of Sionnachan. He recounted the local history with a finely honed memory for detail, filling me in on their village’s growth since I’d been gone.

There was something refreshing about it. About chatting with a Sionnachan who did not seem afraid of me, and who was not employed by me. If I did not have more pressing matters to attend to, I would have stayed there longer.

But as it was, I did have more pressing matters. I could not hide from Skalla and star-darkness and a certain honey-eyed prisoner for long. I’d gotten what I needed out of this visit - confirmation that the humans hadn’t done anything nefarious to the nearest Sionnachan population. Now, it was time to leave.

I exited the pub and stepped onto the street. The sun was setting, smearing the pink of the sky with scarlet and a deep, resounding purple that matched the village’s buildings. I was about to unfurl my wings and leap right into that sky when a building across the road caught my eye.

Like the pub, it had been standing before. I remembered it. Based on the silk and fur banners outside, the business was the same sort as well – a fabric shop. Wanting to hold on to just a little bit more of the world I remembered, I crossed the street and went inside.

Firestone lanterns flickered on the walls, casting a rosy glow over tables and shelves laden with fabrics. Not just fabrics, but also garments – vests and trousers and boots and cloaks. The man behind the crystal counter was wide-eyed at my entrance, but recovered quickly, flattening his ears and greeting me.

“Lord Wylfrael! Welcome, welcome!”

He didn’t seem nearly as bowled-over as the Sionnachans in the pub had been at my arrival. I wondered if someone from the pub had run over here, had spread the word through the entire village, that Ashken was sane after all and Lord Wylfrael really had returned.

“Hello,” I said, folding my wings carefully behind me so as not to knock down any of the fine fabrics and dirty them. “I am glad to see this shop is still here.”

“Yes, of course, my lord! Thank you, my lord! I am Hoshta. This shop has been in my mother’s family since… Well, since you were last here.” The shopkeeper was old, but tall, with a straight back and a mixture of grey and white down and fur. Despite a slight nervousness about him, I could sense the pride he held for this business.

I walked through the shop, stopping here and there to finger an especially fine bolt of silk or piece of leather. It was something that had already occurred to me, but that came back much stronger, now – the human would need clothing if she was to stay here.

A part of me scoffed at that. Let her wear her one outfit until it is filthy and falling apart. And then, let her be cold and naked in the tower.

But the idea of her naked and caged, waiting for my interrogations with nothing to cover her body but her abundance of silken dark hair spilling over her shoulders, was so shockingly, abominably erotic that I had to sharpen it into cold rage to keep myself from combusting on the spot.

“Fabric!” I gritted out. “I need fabric. For clothing.”

“Oh, of course! Yes!”  Hoshta hurried out from behind his counter. “What sort of fabric did you have in mind? I have some really lovely silk this season. The palest pink you could dream of. And-”

“Anything extremely scratchy and uncomfortable will do,” I grunted, my jaw working. Now that the naked human had paraded, uninvited, into my mind, I couldn’t get her out. Of course, the only reasonable solution was to punish the real human for it by clothing her in the most irritating fabric imaginable.

“I am afraid I do not have anything that would qualify as scratchy, my lord,” Hoshta fretted. “We take great pride in the quality and comfort of our fabrics.”

“Of course, you do,” I said stiffly, trying to maintain some outward composure. “I should not have implied otherwise.”

Since there was nothing scratchy, or even remotely ugly, in the shop, I settled on the most basic and plain items. Soft brown wool, grey silk, and a white fur cloak with a hood. I asked Hoshta if he had any boots meant for children, knowing adult ones would be too large, and he told me regretfully that he did not.

She doesn’t need boots. She has boots! The human boots that carried her foolish little feet into this world without your permission, remember?

I dumped my selected items on the counter, brooding as Hoshta tallied it all up. It was only when he told me the total that I realized I’d come here without any Sionnachan coin.

“Of course, if my lord prefers,” Hoshta said slowly, as if worried he might offend me, “he can put it on credit. Despite your long absence, we have kept your account open for you.” His voice softened slightly. “My mother insisted on it, just as her mother did, and her mother before her. We always hoped you’d return safely, Lord Wylfrael.”

“Thank you,” I replied. I was not simply thanking him for the credit, but for keeping a place open for me for so long. A wry smile touched my lips. “I hope I have not left anything unpaid on the account. If there is interest, it must be a mighty sum indeed.”

Hoshta’s ears flattened and he gasped, affronted. “Interest! On Lord Wylfrael’s account! Certainly not, my lord! Besides, your staff have kept things relatively up to date. Now, there is a small sum on the account, my lord. Very small indeed, for orders your Mistress of Affairs has made recently that she has not yet settled.”

“They will be settled quickly,” I said firmly, reminding myself to deal with that upon my return to the castle.

“Very good my lord, very good. Thank you.”

Hoshta placed the items into a large satchel for me. Just as I took it and turned, something out of the corner of my eye froze me to the spot. A flash of gold and white that had become so familiar I thought for a moment that her eyes had followed me here.

But it was lace. Shimmering, delicate golden lace sewn onto the finest snow-white silk.

My breath felt sharp and greedy in my lungs. My claws curled against the satchel I held, wanting simultaneously to stroke the lace and to tear it to pieces.

Leave it, Wylfrael, my mind said.

But my hand reached for it anyway, and my mouth said something else entirely as my fingers made contact with the lace.

“This one too, Hoshta. Put it on my account.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Torrance

Asha Wylfrael didn’t come back that day. I hoped he’d gotten bored of me, but somewhat doubted it after the nearly perverse way he’d stroked the angry bruise on my wrist.

And then there was the way my body had responded – a betrayal even more perverse. I’d been unable to even try to pull away, to do anything but hold my breath and shiver under his touch, hot and cold and confused.

By the time evening rolled around, something I could track by the way light moved and stretched through the thick crystal walls in the windowless tower, I was convinced I was going out of my mind. Stockholm syndrome? A head injury I’m not aware of? That had to explain the riot of feverish sensation that had gripped me when the male, the monster who’d killed my friends, had held my arm.

At least he didn’t make it hurt more… When he’d first grabbed me, and I’d cried out and flinched, he’d immediately loosened his grip. And he’d seemed to tell me earlier that he wasn’t going to kill me. That has to be a good sign, right? At least where my safety is concerned. Or maybe it really was Stockholm syndrome, and I was looking for signs of kindness in gestures that were barely more than merciful. He’d admitted to killing other humans already, so really, what sort of kindness could there actually be?

At least he’s staying away for now.

The opening of the door in the evening made me jump and think I was wrong, but it was only the fox woman, coming to bring me food. She chattered gently, maybe even nervously, in their language as she brought in a tray. Outside in the hall, the male fox alien stood where he’d been all day, a new fixture that made me wonder if Asha Wylfrael had left the tower entirely.

If he’s gone, maybe I can get these two more on my side…

It was clear they were servants of some sort to Asha Wylfrael. They jumped to obey what appeared to be his every command. However, they also seemed kind. When the female one spoke to me, it was more like a nurse talking to a patient, or someone speaking to a skittish wild animal, than a guard to a prisoner. Neither of these fox aliens had ever touched me, and at times the female one seemed almost uncomfortable, like she wasn’t happy about the fact I was trapped here.

Maybe I was reading far too much into the emotions of alien beings I didn’t understand.

Or maybe this could be some kind of opportunity.

“Thank you for the food,” I said brightly, smiling and nodding at the woman. Her cat-like green eyes went huge in shock at the way I was addressing her after a day of silence from my end. She placed a tray on the table and then shyly smiled back.

She started speaking, repeating one word in particular, Aiko, Aiko, while gesturing towards herself with two closed fists.

“Aiko… Is that your name? You’re Aiko?” I pointed at her.

Her smile widened, and her fists opened and closed in a quick movement. Unlike Asha Wyflrael, who had hands similar to a human’s (apart from the claws and glowing stars, that is,) the fox people’s were different. More paw-like, with three fingers and a thumb.

She closed her fists again and aimed them towards me, repeating a lilting phrase that I tried to understand even though there was no chance I would.

“Do you want to know my name?” I asked, hoping that was it. “I’m Torrance.” I repeated my name several times, as she had done, and mimicked the way she’d used her fists to point at herself. I was rewarded with yet another smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back. She seemed excited to know my name, and that buoyed my hopes. They wouldn’t want to learn my name if I was just a faceless alien prisoner. They wanted to know who I was, to see me as a person despite the circumstances. Not like him, who only seemed to care about molesting my bruised wrist and making sure that I didn’t run away or starve on his watch.

“What about you?” I asked, looking out the door to the fox alien on the landing outside my room. “What’s your name?”

This one seemed less sure than Aiko, and he looked to her for answers. Even though he was bigger than Aiko, I got the sense that he was younger, or that maybe Aiko was his boss. She said something to him, and he finally made eye contact with me, aiming his fists at his chest.

“Shoshen.”

“Nice to meet you, Shoshen. I’m Torrance.” I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile and then headed for the table. I sat down without being told and would eat without being told, too. I wanted Aiko and Shoshen to see that I was willing to work with them. That I could be a good little human. Maybe they’d start to trust me.

The lunch Aiko brought earlier had been more of the same as breakfast. The burgundy bread was crumbly and tasted faintly of beets, but was good. The paté stuff had turned out to be some sort of mashed smoked fish which was surprisingly delicious, especially when smeared on the bread. The shiny beads, less so. They were fish eggs, I was pretty sure, rubbery and too difficult for me to force down.

Dinner, though, was different. No stew today, but instead thinly sliced dark meat arranged in a spiral, stuffed with… Well, I wasn’t sure yet. The drink was yet more of what I’d had before – a slightly sour dairy concoction sweetened with something akin to honey. I didn’t mind the taste, and it didn’t upset my stomach, but I really wanted water. I was too afraid to drink water directly from the tap in case there was some sort of alien microbe in it.

I picked up the meat thing, holding it like a burrito, and took a bite.

I nodded enthusiastically and made “mmm!” sounds at Aiko, who seemed pleased by my reaction. I wonder if she made this, I thought as I took another bite. It actually was quite good. The stuffing was a strong sort of cheese, I was pretty sure. The meat was similar to venison, something my dad would cook every once in a while.

The sudden grief was a punch to the throat. I choked, unable to swallow the food in my mouth. Aiko stepped forward in concern, but I waved her off, reaching for my mug and chugging the milky liquid.

I ate the rest of the meal slowly, drowning in memories. I couldn’t bring myself to smile again.

Later that night, after Aiko left with my tray and Asha Wylfrael still hadn’t returned, I finally allowed myself to cry. I curled tightly under the fur bedspread, sobbing into the pillows. I wept for my dad who’d just died, for the mom who’d died before I’d ever got to properly meet her. There were tears for so much of my old life, snatched from my grip like a toy torn from a child’s hands. I cried for my friends, too. For Min-Ji and Suvi and the other women, some of whom I desperately hoped had survived all this.

And for the first time since being captured, I shook with the guilt of it all. For the fact that I was the one who’d lived when others hadn’t. I had been so focused on making sense of my new situation, of hating the fact that I was trapped, that I hadn’t stopped to realize the enormity of the fact that I had survived when my friends hadn’t.

I was alive. The people I loved weren’t. And I didn’t know how the fuck I was supposed to be worthy of that chance.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and I stared numbly at the burning boulder in the hearth.

I wanted to feel cleansed after crying.

But instead, I just felt empty.

I retreated into that hollow place, closed my eyes, and disappeared.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Wylfrael

When I returned to the castle, night was halfway done. I landed at the back of the property and entered through the kitchen. I half expected to see Aiko in there cooking or scrubbing pots, but then reminded myself of the time. She’d probably long since gone to bed. Which reminded me that I needed to relieve Shoshen of his post outside the human’s door.

I moved quickly, flying up the many stairs since it was so much faster than walking. After the long flight today and my still-healing wounds, my wings were weary, but it still felt good to use them. They’d been folded under my back for so long while I’d slumbered.

The tunnels were too narrow to fly through, so I walked, but did so briskly, the satchel from Hoshta held tightly under my arm. I thought about depositing the satchel in my room first, but without seeming to have actually made a conscious decision on the matter, I went straight up to the human’s chamber door.

“My lord!” Shoshen flattened his ears.

“I hope the prisoner behaved herself for you and Aiko,” I said. My eyes were on the crystal door instead of my Sionnachan Master of the Grounds as he replied.

“Yes, my lord. She ate the food Aiko brought her with little fuss.”

I grunted at that. A part of me wanted to be satisfied with that and say, “Good.” But another part, an angry, twisting part, hated that she’d eaten without a fight for my servants, but not for me.

She submits to the servants but disobeys the lord…

What an infuriatingly upside-down sort of creature she was. I wanted to march in there, tear her out of her bed, set her on her ridiculously tiny feet and remind her which way was up. To remind her that I was a stone sky god, I was in control, I was the one to be obeyed.

“You’re dismissed, Shoshen.”

“Thank you, my lord. Ah, there is one other thing.”

He hesitated. I narrowed my eyes, and he inhaled quickly.

“She… she was making an odd sound before.”

“What sort of sound?” I asked sharply.

“I… I am not quite sure. It was a while ago, now. Just after sundown. It was a… a sort of quiet wailing sound.”

“Wailing?”

I dropped the satchel and slammed open the door with a blast of power. It was quicker than pulling it open with my hand.

She’d been wailing. Wailing!

With pain? With fear? Despair so thick it made her stupid, made her want to…

What have you done to yourself while I’ve been gone, little human?

She did not stir in the bed at my approach, and that filled me with fearful dread. It was only the sound of her breathing that made me stop at her bedside, that kept me from dragging her out and shaking her until she opened her eyes. Only the top of her dark head was visible in the firestone light, the rest of her cocooned in fur. Grinding my fangs against each other, I stared down at the lump that was my prisoner, and I hated her for making me afraid.

She’s breathing. She’s sleeping. Go.

And yet, I did not go. I remained, staring and loathing and fighting back the fear, listening to her breath like it was some sort of important call in the distance. An anthem to adhere to, bringing me to heel.

But that anthem didn’t sound quite right. Her breathing was stilted and almost wet-sounding.

Something is wrong.

My claws sank into the fur and pulled, revealing her small form. She did not wake right away, instead curling into a tight ball, her face hidden.

A muscle jumped in my cheek.

“Wake up!” I barked. “Why does your breathing sound like that?”

And why, why, why were you wailing?

At the sound of my voice she started, a jerking frisson running through her. As soon as her eyes were open and on me, she sat up, scrambling backwards and away from me until her back collided with the crystal headboard.

I sat on the bed, leaning towards her and boxing her in with my body. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for escape, but we both knew there would be none.

“Stay still and let me look at you,” I hissed, reaching for her jaw so I could better see her face in the firestone light. She twanged into tense stillness under my touch as I held her face with both hands. It was hard to get a perfect sense of colour in the orange-tinted glow of the firestone, but she definitely looked paler than before. Her cheeks were two high, flaming spots of colour among the pallor of her skin, and the white parts of her eyes were now tinted red, too.

Again?

First, the blue tint to her skin giving way to pink before this, and now the paleness and the white parts of her eyes veined with red. This human was constantly changing colours on me, and it maddened me that I knew nothing of what it all meant.

Her breath was faster now, but still odd and wet. She sniffed, and it sounded as if her nose was partially blocked.

“Shoshen said that you were wailing. Did you do something to your nose?” I asked, squinting at the small protrusion. Now that I looked closer, it looked slightly red, too, and swollen, as did her lips and eyes.

Her heartbeat was a rhythm so frantic it practically fluttered at her throat. I slid one of my hands downward, palming the side of her neck, feeling the hot pulsation beneath my skin.

Maybe she is ill. The red eyes, the swelling…

“What’s wrong with you?” My hands pressed a little harder against her throat and jaw, my claws sinking into her hair.

She said something that time, her voice crackling and water-logged. Not only the breathing through her nose, but her throat is affected, too?

My thumb shifted against her chin, pressing downward with a sharp pressure until her mouth popped open. Her stillness vanished, and she began to wriggle in my grip. I held her firmly, inspecting her mouth and what I could see of her throat. Small, blunt teeth. A shiny pink tongue. Some dangly thing at the back that I was not entirely convinced was supposed to be there…

I could not see any obvious obstructions, but I also had no idea what the inside of her throat was supposed to look like, either.

This will not do. Tomorrow, I have to be strong enough to see Rúnwebbe.

“Tomorrow, you will tell me what is wrong with you,” I swore with a harsh breath. Giving her one final, penetrating look that told me absolutely nothing, I let her go. “For tonight, I will remain here. Make sure you do not die before I can interrogate you.”

I stood, then headed for the table and chairs. Gripping one chair by its back, I dragged it over to the side of her bed while she glared at me. I was about to sit, then decided at the last moment to move the chair to the other side of the bed so that I was between her and the door. The human looked horrified when I sat down and asked me a question I assumed must have been something like, “What are you doing?” or “Are you staying here all night?”

“Yes, I am staying here all night,” I informed her coolly, stretching my legs out in front of me. I leaned back, lacing my fingers together on my abdomen and resting my elbows on the arms of the chair. “Stay awake or sleep. It does not matter to me.”

She appeared to choose the former. She scooted herself until she’d reached the far side of the bed, then wiggled up against the headboard until she was in a pose that mirrored mine. Her eyes never left me.

“Suit yourself,” I muttered. I let my own eyes drift closed, a show of callous indifference.

But a show was all it was. My ears strained to catch her every breath. And though my eyes were closed, I knew I would not let sleep come.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Torrance

Well doesn’t he just look the picture of fucking repose over there.

I glared daggers at Asha Wylfrael, stretched out and relaxed in his chair like a smug cat. What the hell is he even doing here?

I couldn’t understand why I’d graduated from being stuck in here alone to suddenly having a bedside guard. Especially after I’d been so nice and obedient today while he’d been gone. I hadn’t given Aiko or Shoshen any trouble. I’d eaten all my meals and been a good, quiet human.

So why, then?

And why the weird inspection of my open mouth?

The memory of his touch on my jaw and neck burned almost as his bright blue eyes had as he’d wrenched open my mouth like some kind of violent alien dentist.

Fuck him. I’ve never even had a cavity.

But that only reminded me I had no goddamn toothbrush here. If my teeth start falling out because they didn’t give me a toothbrush, I swear to God…

I sighed tightly, reminding myself to keep my priorities in check. Dental hygiene was lower on the list than staying the fuck alive in captivity here.

I remained upright, back against the headboard, my arms crossed over my chest. My neck started getting stiff after a while – Asha Wylfrael was at the side of the bed, so my head was turned to keep him in view. But I didn’t care about how sore I got. My head could feel like it was going to pop right off my shoulders and I still wouldn’t turn away.

I wouldn’t sleep, either. No way. Not now. Not with that silver-haired sentinel at my bedside. I doubted I could sleep even if I wanted to – the cortisol thumping through my veins would no doubt keep me alert.

At least, that’s what I’d thought. But as the minutes ticked by and turned to hours, my eyelids grew hotter and heavier. Each blink lasted longer than the one before. I pinched my forearm, the one that wasn’t bruised, until my skin was red and splotchy.

Stay awake. Stay… awake…

Suddenly, I was awake.

And it was morning. Bright light from outside made the chamber walls glow, casting a pink haze down upon the white fur bedding. Bedding that was wrapped snuggly around me where I lay. Apparently in sleep I’d completely abandoned my seated pose and had snuggled right down, all warm and happy once my brain had switched off.

Traitor, I said silently to my body as I righted myself.

Asha Wylfrael was right where I’d left him, but now his eyes were open. And he wasn’t lounging in the chair, but sitting up straight. I frowned at him, keeping the fur bedding tight around me like some soft, fluffy shield. He looks different.

He must have left the room at some point while I was sleeping, because he was dressed in fresh clothing. Similar tight black trousers that he always wore, and black boots. There was another black leather-looking vest like yesterday’s, but this one had crisscrossing straps across the bare strip of skin between the vest’s sides, fastened with shining buttons the colour of copper. Where the vest revealed skin, I could see there were fewer bandages than before. How the hell is he healing so fast?

His hair was what looked the most different. No longer long and loose, it was smooth, as if just combed, and held behind him in a simple low ponytail, tied in place with a ribbon of blue fabric that looked like silk.

If I hadn’t hated him, I would have admired the way the blue ribbon complemented the icy blaze of his eyes and the silver-sapphire glow of the lights strewn over his skin like shimmering tattoos.

But I did hate him. So fuck him and his pretty ribbon.

He rose from the chair, the movement one of perfect grace and controlled alien power. He said something, his wings shifting behind him as he gestured with an open palm towards the table on the other side of the room. Breakfast was waiting for me there. I practically cried with relief when I saw there was only one plate this time. Good. He isn’t planning to stay.

In fact, he was already on his way out the door, the soles of his boots making his footsteps crisp and loud in the space. He paused in the doorway, as if he were about to say something. His wings twitched. But he said nothing.

And then he was gone.

I wasn’t alone long. Less than a second. As soon as Asha Wylfrael left, he was replaced by Aiko. She strode into the room and stationed herself beside the tray of food on the table expectantly.

“I know, I know. I’m going to eat,” I grumbled. I rubbed my hands roughly over my face. My head felt hot and heavy, my mouth dry and tasting awful. “Do you have anything I can use for my teeth?”

Aiko’s head tilted, her ears arching forward to better hear the words I knew she couldn’t understand.

“My teeth.” I mimed cleaning them. “Do you guys use toothpaste? Toothbrushes?”

I was sure she knew what I meant now. She straightened, her ears perking up, and smiled.

I smiled wanly back.

“Thank God.”

She hurried to the door as if off to fetch one for me, and I sagged with gratitude and relief for her kindness. But when she reached the door, she froze mid-step. Instantly, she turned around, marching back into the room.

My heart sank.

“You’re not allowed to leave me alone, are you?”

Something had changed since yesterday. It seemed like I was to be under constant supervision every moment going forward.

I thought being alone up here was bad. But this was worse.

At least it’s Aiko now and not him.

Defeated, I slid out of the bed. I walked past Aiko in silence, heading for the small bathroom. I wondered if she’d even follow me in there, but thankfully she didn’t.

I did my business, then washed my hands. I washed my face too, splashing water until it rolled down my neck and soaked my T-shirt. I ended up removing it entirely, leaving on only my bra so I could clean under my arms. I washed my hair in the sink, lathering the soapy cream stuff and rinsing as best I could. It was a bit of a shitshow, between how long my hair was and how awkwardly high the sink was positioned. Without a mirror, I had no idea if I’d rinsed out all the suds when I was finished. Oh well. I twisted the long, soaked hair, wringing it out as best I could before putting my shirt back on.

I should have washed all my clothes in the sink and let them dry when I was alone, I lamented. I could have done that last night instead of bawling my eyes out in bed. If there was going to constantly be someone in my room going forward, I didn’t see how I’d get the chance, now. I guess I could wear my snowsuit while my clothes dry… Or maybe wear half of it at a time. Wear the snowpants on trouser-and-panty-washing day, the parka on shirt and bra day…

It was utterly depressing just how quickly I was establishing the practical details of my life in this tower, this world. Brushing my teeth, cleaning my clothes. Learning how to live here because I’d never get to leave.

Hair dripping and leaving sopping dark circles on my shirt, I headed back out into the main chamber. Aiko started towards me, as if me being out of her sight had made her nervous. She stopped when she noticed my wet hair and shirt.

She said something, something that sounded like a question. I shook my head, pursing my lips to keep myself from blowing out an irritated breath. Not having a clue what everyone was saying to me was getting old, fast. I wonder if I could convince Aiko to teach me the language…

She no doubt sensed my lack of understanding and didn’t say anything else. Instead, she hurried over to the big oblong tiled area set into the floor. She knelt, pressing down on one specific green tile, and it sank like a button being pushed under her touch. I jumped as the sound of rushing liquid suddenly echoed.

Water rushed from unseen cracks among the tile, filling the large basin in the floor. My eyes bugged out of my head. A bathtub?

I felt like an idiot for not realizing it before. But there was no obvious tap here like there was above the bathroom sink. I memorized which tile it was Aiko had pressed to make the bath fill up. The water rose rapidly until the water-releasing cracks were covered, turning those spots into jets that made the bath froth and rumble.

When the bath was nearly full, Aiko pressed the same tile and the water ceased. She stood back expectantly, waiting for me to get in.

I hadn’t exactly anticipated getting naked in front of an alien this morning, but then again, what parts of this whole experience could have been anticipated? The bath steamed, and I worried at my lip with my teeth, knowing how wonderful the water would feel on my still-stiff muscles.

Screw it.

Asha Wylfrael was gone, at least for the moment. I’d get in just long enough to get clean and soothe my body, then jump back out. At the last moment, I went over to the shelf by the bed and grabbed my snowsuit. I’d probably be sweating my ass off, right after washing, too, but I didn’t see much of a way around it. I wanted to wash my clothing in the bath and I’d have to wear something while my stuff dried.

I laid the snowsuit on the floor beside the beautifully tiled bath. Cheeks flaming, I stripped down and slid into the bathtub as quickly as I could. If Aiko was curious about my weird alien body, she was good enough to hide it and not to stare.

Holy shit.

I exhaled, letting the heat work through my bones. I hadn’t had a bath since I’d left Earth. There were only showers on the ship, and our shower time had been severely limited. So this, this caress of hot water over my skin after working for weeks out in the winter cold, was pure, luxurious bliss. The bath was so large and deep it was almost more like a pool. I waded along, the water sloshing up to my collarbones, swishing my hands back and forth.

A clink on the floor nearby made me turn my head. Aiko had placed the jar of soapy cream stuff from the bathroom within reach.

“Thank you,” I said, nodding to her. She trilled something in reply, then made herself busy in the room, straightening my boots and making the bed.

Why does this feel more like room service than imprisonment? I wondered what Asha Wylfrael would think about his maid or employee or whatever she was drawing me baths and tidying my room.

Thinking of him made me shiver despite the heat of the water. He might not be gone for long. Even though the thought of getting out of this bath now was torture, I cleaned myself quickly before hand-washing my clothing in the water. I hauled myself, dripping, limbs rubbery, out, then hustled over to the hearth with my wet clothes. I laid them flat in from of the big, burning stone that heated this room, then grabbed my snowsuit and pulled it on, wincing at the way it stuck to my damp skin. As anticipated, I immediately started sweating, the insulated fabric trapping heat against my body. I left the parka unzipped, deciding I cared less about modesty in front of Aiko than I did about boiling to death.

I flopped down in the remaining chair by the table, but it was too hot over here by the fire with my snowsuit on. I grabbed the tray of food and brought it over to the bed, hopping up awkwardly in my puffy outfit. Getting comfy, I started to eat – more bread and fish paste, though they’d mercifully left off the eggs this time – and watched Aiko drain the tub by pressing on another tile.

A little while after I was finished eating, Shoshen came to the chamber’s door to collect the tray and dishes. Aiko spoke to him, and he quickly hurried away.

When Aiko didn’t go with him, it confirmed what I’d thought this morning. That I wasn’t being left alone in here, even for a moment.

But there were some small rays of hope.

Like when Shoshen returned with the lunch tray later. Next to the plate of food was an odd, scrubby, finger puppet-looking thing with a tiny jar beside it.

It took me a moment, but then understanding hit me, followed by a wave of gratitude for these two strange but oddly sweet alien people.

It was a toothbrush.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Wylfrael

My power had recovered enough to open a sky door to Rúnwebbe’s world, though I’d landed farther from her cave than I’d meant to. I was in a deep, ragged valley of black rock, between shadowy mountains. It was daytime here, but there was little sunlight penetrating the thick grey clouds above. Though the black all around me was as reflective as the crystal of my homeland, it swallowed the light rather than shone.

Though I was not where I wanted to be, there was no way to get lost here. Everywhere, the jagged rock was draped with threads – Rúnwebbe’s work – that led back to her cave. The webbing glimmered in every colour imaginable, a stark contrast to the onyx rock. Intricately woven silken threads in shades of Sionnachan-sky pink, tree-silver, warm brown and gold just like –

Focus.

I lifted back into the air, beating my wings and flying, following the threads. I held my satchel tightly, making sure it did not fall. It was the satchel Hoshta had given me. I’d dumped out the fabrics purchased for the prisoner and had ordered Aiko to put them away. Then, I’d filled the satchel with gifts. Five gifts, to be precise, one for each bit of webbing I required from Rúnwebbe. Rúnwebbe never left this world, but she hoarded treasures at a level nearly comparable to Skalla’s mother’s people. She loved all manner of contraptions and trinkets from other lands and required gifts in order to share her web and divulge any information she possessed, whispers caught along her gleaming threads. I’d chosen five exquisitely carved Sionnachan crystal goblets to offer her, a matching set but each one a different colour. They clinked against each other as I flew. The only other thing I’d brought was my sword, given to me by my father, strapped to my back.

The air here was a shock after leaving Sionnach’s sky. Hot and dry, it buffeted my skin and wings, the wind feeling like the physical drag of dusty claws.

As I flew, the valley beneath deepened. I was getting closer now. The valley cut down, down, down, carving deep into black stone, pulling all the webbing down with it. In the deepest, darkest part of the valley, invisible if not for the shimmering webbing leading to its mouth, was a cave. Rúnwebbe’s cave.

I angled my wings and descended, landing among the multi-coloured threads at the entrance to the pitch-black cave.

“Wylfrael,” came her voice, sounding as if it came from everywhere, from inside my own head. A hiss, a whisper, a howl.  From her place deep in the cave, there was no way Rúnwebbe could see that it was me, but that did not matter. I’d landed among her web and the web told her all.

The voice spoke again.

“I heard whissspers you’d awoken.”

“Your whispers tell you true,” I called back, beginning the long walk down to where I’d find her.

A mirthless laugh met my words, a scraping cackle of a sound that made the fur on my tail puff up.

“They always do, stone sky god. They alwaysss do.”

It was not apparent outside, but the webbing actually gave off its own light. It was dim, but in the opaque darkness of Rúnwebbe’s cave, it lit the way, making the black walls luminous. I continued downward, the air growing cool around me. This deep, condensation formed on the webbing that covered the floor and ceiling and walls, pearly pinpricks of dew that shuddered and dripped when my motions made the webbing shake.

Finally, the descent halted, the ground flattening and the way widening into the astonishing home of Rúnwebbe.

Without her and her webbing, it would have merely been a cave. A large and sprawling one, to be sure, but a simple rocky cave all the same.

Rúnwebbe’s weaving made the place into a richly-layered, spangled space of multi-coloured light. Her webbing, woven into excruciatingly perfect geometric patterns, covered every surface. It hung from the ceiling and spilled down the walls like glowing tapestries, undulating to the floor to create a carpet older than any stone sky god.

And at the centre of it all was the whisper weaver herself. Rúnwebbe. Though her stature was hunched, she stood even taller than me. She appeared to grow right out of the webbing itself, though the illusion was backwards. She did not come from the webbing, but the webbing from her. Her woven robes connected directly to the rest of the webbing, flaring outward from her silver-skinned body. Her six long, bony arms worked ceaselessly as she bent over the webbing, her black claws sorting through the endless whispers of the universe.

“I’ve brought you gifts,” I said, hoisting the satchel into the air. “Five gifts for five bits of your web.”

Five of her arms kept moving, but one rose, cricking a knobby finger, beckoning me forward. As I walked, webbing shifted, like a living thing, parting before me as I made my way. It was not my power that moved the webbing out of the way, but hers.

I stopped walking when I reached her. This close, I could see her four large, black eyes and the four slitted nostrils in her angular silver face. Her mouth was so wide it stretched nearly from one side of her head to the other, and when she opened it to speak, it was as if half her face completely unhinged.

“Let me see the giftsss.”

I opened the satchel. Five of her arms were still skittering back and forth over her webbing as the sixth reached inside and pulled out each goblet, one at a time. Within moments, the goblets had disappeared into the layers of her web, trophies to be woven somewhere into the tapestry. I could see other such treasures, brought by other stone sky gods and Riverdark mages – jewellery and weapons and metal – glinting from between the shimmering strands.

“These will sssuffice,” she said.

Her black claws flashed. She held out five of her hands, each silver palm containing a small square of webbing to take back with me. I placed four of the pieces into the satchel but decided to waste no time with my own. I lifted my chin, angling my head backwards, and pressed a piece of webbing into my left ear.

My ear grew hot and buzzed viciously as the webbing dissolved inside the canal. I resisted the urge to violently shake my head, to twitch my ears until the sensation went away. When the heated buzzing finally did fade, I felt no different than before, but knew that the next time the human spoke to me, I’d understand her.

“Thank you, Rúnwebbe.” I said solemnly, pulling the satchel’s drawstring tight. A question entered my mind. I hesitated, knowing I had not brought enough gifts to satisfy her, but asked it anyway. “Have you had any news of my cousin Skallagrim? Where he is now?”

Her four black eyes narrowed.

“Have you brought more giftsss?”

I cursed myself for not thinking ahead this far. I’d been so preoccupied with my prisoner I’d lost sight of the larger problems at hand and hadn’t brought more items to trade for knowledge of Skalla or anything else. I didn’t want to deplete my energy by opening multiple sky doors to travel back and forth from here and Sionnach if I could help it, and besides, Rúnwebbe grew weary of visitors quickly. She would not take kindly to repeated visits from the same stone sky god in a short period of time.

I considered giving her my sword but wanted to avoid that if I could since it was a treasured gift from my father. An idea came to me, and I hoped it would be enough. Holding the satchel with one hand, I used the claws from my other to slice off some strands of my own hair and offered it to her.

“The hair of a stone sky god for my web?” she hissed, flat nostrils flaring. “Yesss, this will do, Wylfrael.”

“Where is he, then? Do you know?”

“He is with his mate.”

His mate!

“He’s found her! Is he still mate-mad, or is he now cured? Who is she? What world does she hail from?”

“The gift, Wylfrael.” Her tone grew sharp with warning. The webbing vibrated all around me.

“Of course.”

She lifted a hand, and I dropped my severed hair into it. Her three fingers closed over my hair. As soon as the fist was made, her entire body went rigid. Her head flew back and her eyes went wide, endless black orbs in her face.

“What is it?” I asked urgently as the webbing shook with such force I thought the entire cave might collapse down around us. Rúnwebbe’s back arched, her body contorting, her six arms rising out to her sides.

“I see her,” Rúnwebbe gasped.

“Who?” I barked. “Skalla’s mate?”

“Not Ssskallagrim’s,” she groaned. “Yours.”

Mine… My mate?

Her next words tumbled quickly from her mouth, each one running into the last and bouncing off the walls of the cave in an endless, spiralling echo.

“Bound yet unbound. A partner and a pawn.

Trapped under the arching sky of dawn.”

“What are you talking about?” I snapped. “Who is she? Where?”

But Rúnwebbe just kept going, as if she could not hear me and did not see me.

“Fated bride of Wylfrael. Starburning but afraid.

And when she dies, it will be by her husband’s hand and blade.”

Everything stopped – the words, the shaking. The cave was plunged into stillness so catastrophic it felt like an explosion.

Rúnwebbe hunched over, her six arms folding in towards her torso. I stared at her for a long moment, slowly becoming aware of a brutal hammering sound. I wondered what dared disturb the shocked silence that followed Rúnwebbe’s words before realizing it was my own heart.

“Ask me no more questionsss, Wylfrael,” the weaver of whispers finally croaked.

My jaw worked, defiance rising in me.

“No, Rúnwebbe,” I murmured icily. My voice grew louder. “You must tell me more!” I would rip every strand of hair from my head if I had to. I’d give her my sword if she asked it of me now. Anything. Anything.

I had to know, had to know, who my mortal mate was. Where she was. When she was. If she was somewhere out there, even now, or if she had yet to be born.

Born to die by her husband’s hand and blade…

Impossible.

It made no sense. That I would kill my fated one, the one I was destined to love above all others. And even more than that, it meant that I would be killing, by proxy, myself. Once a stone sky god claimed his mortal mate and sealed the bond by giving her his knot, his life became inextricably linked with hers. He died the same moment she did.

“You’re wrong, Rúnwebbe,” I rasped when she did not answer. “I would not, could not-”

“The whispersss are never wrong.”

“Curse your whispers!” I roared. My hands shook, my breath tearing in and out of my chest. The webbing began to vibrate again, and where it had once parted way for me, it now surged inwards, rising and falling like tempest-whipped waves, shoving me backward out of the cave as Rúnwebbe shrieked.

“Out, Wylfrael!” Her voice cut through the air like slashing wings as I was forced into retreat. “Out, god of stone sky and Sionnach! Out, bride-killer, with your questions and your curses and your blade! Out, out! Out, and do not dare return. For if you do, I’ll save your doomed mate by killing you myself.”

I fought with everything I had against the web as it bore me ever backward and upward towards the surface. I refused to go – not like this. I had to get back down there. I had to make the whisper weaver explain everything, make her go back on her word, admit that she was wrong.

But the webbing did not let me go, and all around me its strands shivered with the words it had caught out of the air, hurling them back at me in a cacophony that started as a hushed breath and ended as a scream.

The whispersss… The whispersss…

The whispersss are never wrong.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Wylfrael

Ireturned to Sionnach, landing among howling winds that made me think Rúnwebbe’s voice had followed me here. But it really was only the wind, rising in preparation for a storm. It made my tied-back hair whip and buffeted my wings as I descended to the stirring snow.

But those winds, the coming storm, were nothing to what I felt inside myself. The confused rage that churned, Rúnwebbe’s prophecy the catalyst. I still couldn’t believe what she’d said, but more and more I began to hate and fear the fact it may be true. That I would be the cause of my own mate’s destruction. Rúnwebbe’s prophecies were very rare – usually, she only had whispers of what had already come to pass, or what was happening right now, out among the stars. I’d only heard tell of two other visions of the future besides this one, and both others had come to pass, just as she’d said they would.

I will murder my own mate.

I roared, rage coming out as sound. I funnelled my power towards the ground, sending a wave of snow high as a mountain crashing into the forest in front of my castle. It did not make me feel better, so I did it again and again, sending huge walls of snow rising and crashing. The wind picked up further, catching drifts of hurling snow out of the air and sending the white spinning in a frenzy until it seemed as if I’d been caught in the centre of some white tornado.

I was using too much power, and I knew it. I was still healing, and I’d opened two sky doors – one to Rúnwebbe’s, and one back here – already today. But I did not care. The fury inside me was too great. If I did not see it mirrored back at me by the violent landscape, I felt as if I might fall apart.

I fell apart anyway.

My power sputtered, then retreated. I collapsed to my knees, wind swirling against the great, chaotic dunes of snow that I’d created out of once-smooth white. I leaned forward on my hands and knees, my fingers sinking into the snow as I panted.

Who is she?

I knew now that I could never find out. I could never seek her out among the stars and claim her as I was destined to do. If meeting me would be her death, then she would never meet me at all. I would resign myself to a life of isolation, along with eventual mate-madness, or star-darkness, or both, to save her life.

At least Skalla has found his, I thought bitterly to myself. I hoped that she was safe, that her touch had calmed his berserker rage, soothed his madness, and brought him back into himself. But at the same time, an ugly jealousy made me almost wish she weren’t safe. Why should Skalla’s mate be fine when mine was doomed to die simply because she’d been bonded to me?

Rúnwebbe hadn’t given me enough information about Skalla; I’d still have to go track him down and make sure his rampage had ended for good and that he hadn’t harmed his mate in blind fury. And I still needed to find out what was happening at Heofonraed. But now that I knew I’d never have my mate at my side, approaching or joining the Council of the Gods was out of the question.

I stood, the bleeding ache inside me clotting to form grief-stricken resignation. I would have no mate. My greatest love would forever be lost to me before I’d ever even had the chance to find her. I would have no sons, would never have what my parents had once had, what every stone sky god searched for.

An empty, endless life.

Maybe I should have let Skalla kill me after all.

The storm was a full-fledged blizzard now, flurries of snow making it near impossible to see. I shouted, “Mirreth!” into the gale, and the castle appeared, a dim silhouette among the swirling white.

Feeling my future weigh as heavily upon me as stone, I trudged towards the castle as if to take shelter in the past.

Of course, being greeted by Shoshen in the entrance hall reminded me that this was not the past. Things had changed, including the occupants of this castle. It was the whole reason I’d gone to see Rúnwebbe in the first place.

“Quite a storm whipping up out there, my lord! I’m glad you’ve returned safely.”

I grunted, in too foul a mood to form a proper reply. No doubt sensing it, Shoshen shut his mouth and flattened his ears.

I took in a deep breath through my nose, forcing myself to stay civil, to not punish the Sionnachans for my anger, my fate.

“Here, Shoshen,” I said, my voice gruff with the effort it took to remain calm. I took three squares of webbing out of the satchel, leaving only one for the prisoner. “These are for you, Aiko, and Ashken. Put the square into one of your ears, and you’ll be able to understand everything the prisoner says. And anyone else who ever speaks to you in an unknown language, for that matter.”

Since my mother was Sionnachan, and I’d been raised here, I spoke Sionnachan as well as the language of the stone sky, so the fact my staff didn’t currently have any webbing had been no great matter. Shoshen looked stunned by what I’d said, staring at the glowing squares with their interwoven multi-coloured threads. Finally, he reached for the squares, taking two in one hand and one in the other. Looking unsure, but not willing to disobey me, he draped a square over his right ear.

“It has to go deeper,” I growled. I raised my hand, poking the web deep into his ear. Shoshen suppressed a yelp and clapped his hand to his ear when my finger withdrew.

“It feels odd, but it will pass. Don’t shake your head around or try to take it out until it’s dissolved,” I told him. His tail puffed up and twitched, but otherwise, he remained completely still at my command. Eventually, the tension in his body eased.

“It does not feel strange now,” he said. “Thank you, my lord.”

“For what?”

“I… I must admit, I would like to be able to understand her – the prisoner. She has been very cooperative while you’ve been gone. I rather think… I rather think she is trying to be kind to us.”

My mouth thinned into a hard line, my wings pulsing with irritation. After everything I’d been through today, I absolutely did not want to hear about how kind the woman who’d invaded my world was.

“Oh! And her name is Torrance, by the way, my lord. I know you asked Aiko to find out.”

Torrance…

I grunted again, then pointed a claw at the two squares left in his hand. “Those are for Aiko and Ashken. You can explain it to them.” I bit back a sigh at the fact that I would have to be the one to put the web in Torrance’s ear. No matter how kind she’d pretended to be in my absence, there was no way she’d let a Sionnachan insert it into her ear. And I doubted Aiko or Shoshen would have the gall to even try, once she started struggling.

This time, I didn’t hold it back. A heated sigh hissed between my fangs. The thought of going up to Torrance’s chamber now and dealing with her flailing and wiggling exhausted me. The news Rúnwebbe had imparted was the greatest blow I’d ever suffered in my life – even worse than when I’d nearly died. And now I was expected to deal with mundane matters like the prisoner in my tower? A dark realization came over me, the realization that I would not be able to contain my anger around her, control the need to punish something, as well as I had around Shoshen. The Sionnachans were innocent.

She was not.

I will not go to her today.

I would save her webbing, and my interrogations, for tomorrow. When I was in greater control of myself and had had more time to absorb everything that had come to pass today. I was no longer overly concerned about her being ill, either. When she’d woken this morning, I’d noticed that much of the redness in her eyes had gone, and her breathing had returned to normal.

I was about to head into the tunnel that led into the Eve Tower, to spend some time in my old room, the furthest place from where the human was, when my wings prickled with awareness. I whirled back towards the entrance hall’s door. It was closed, and other than the incessant wail of the winds, there was no sound.

But all the same, I knew something, someone, was out there.

“Stay here,” I growled at Shoshen, stalking to the door. I wrenched it open and stepped back out into the white abyss.

This close to the castle, I’d be protected under the Riverdark spell. No one approaching would be able to see me.

Who is it? Skalla? More humans?

I squinted into the sky, now nearly opaque with sheets of slicing snow. Eventually, something emerged from that whiteness. A dark, flying figure giving off a faint red light.

Maerwynne.

I relaxed slightly, then launched into the air to greet him. No doubt he was looking for me, and my castle, but he would not find it from up there.

“Maerwynne!” I called over the sound of the storm. “I am here! Land!”

“Wylfrael! Thank the stone of the sky. I thought I’d have to fly zigzags over this entire world before I found you.”

I led him down to the ground in front of my castle.

“There’s a Riverdark spell on it,” I explained. Apart from Skalla and my father, no other stone sky god had been here before, and Maerwynne wouldn’t have known where to search on Sionnach for my castle. “I’m surprised you got this close in your search.”

“I heard a lot of roaring and crashing noises. It sounded the way you sounded when you were fighting Skallagrim at Heofonraed. I merely followed the sounds into this storm.” He shivered, his red wings shuddering and his long black tail tensing. “Let me inside, would you, Wylfrael? I don’t know how you stand this kind of cold.”

I snorted at that. Maerwynne’s mother’s world, Vizhir, was one of humid heat and belching volcanoes. He burned hotter than most. Even now, his body heat melted snow before it even touched his skin. He was already soaked, as if he’d been trapped in a torrential downpour, not a snowstorm.

I spoke the password, and the castle appeared again. I led Maerwynne inside.

Shoshen had disappeared, likely off to deliver the bits of web to his sister and father. The entrance hall was empty – we could speak freely here.

“What news, Maerwynne?” I asked, turning to him. I untied my hair and shook snow from it before retying it, then brushed the flakes from my clothing before they could melt and leave me as dripping as my visitor. His crimson hair was so wet it looked nearly as black as his hide. He was dressed in the Vizhiri style, wearing a loose, white tunic and trousers that now clung wetly to his frame, accentuating hard muscle. My gaze was drawn, as if with the force of a planet pulling one’s feet down to the ground, to his star-dark hand.

“It is not spreading. Yet,” he said gravely, holding up his hand and inspecting it. The rest of him glowed just as it was supposed to, red constellations like little flames across his skin. “You have had no problems with your star map, I take it?”

“No,” I said, though I doubted that would last much longer. Since I could not seek out my mate, unless another cure for this star-darkness was found, I’d likely lose my star map eventually. If I don’t go mate-mad first.

“I have been to see Sceadulyr,” Maerwynne said, dropping his hand. “I went to confirm what Rúnwebbe told me. His star map is entirely dark, just as she said.”

The mention of Rúnwebbe was like venom in my veins. I clamped my teeth together and let Maerwynne continue.

“He is hosting a gathering of the gods soon,” Maerwynne said. “In the Shadowlands palace.”

“Hosting a gathering when he is so weak?’ I asked, surprised. But then again, Sceadulyr was often surprising. The shadow-wielding god was as unpredictable as he was treacherous.

“As far as I could tell when I spoke to him, he is not weakened. He just cannot open sky doors and travel.”

“Hmm. When is it?” I asked. It might be good to go to a gathering, even if it meant venturing into Sceadulyr’s shifting lair. I’d been asleep so long. I needed to continue getting caught up on the news from the other stone sky gods. Find out more information about the goings-on of the council, and the spreading star-darkness.

“It is… blast, this always does my head in. I hate converting time between worlds.” Maerwynne’s red and black eyes closed, and he rubbed his forehead. “It is… yes, it’s seventeen Sionnachan days from now.”

His eyes opened once more.

“I told Sceadulyr I’d inform the other gods as he cannot travel to invite them himself.”

“And that is why you’ve come here, then?”

“Yes. Although,” Maerwynne paused, turning towards the door and then back to me. “I wanted to see for myself how you’d made out with the human invaders. I didn’t see any sign of them while I searched for your castle out there.”

“All but one are gone,” I replied. “Dead, or fled. Just as weak as you said they’d be.”

“All but one?” he pressed, and I cursed myself inwardly, suddenly wishing I’d kept the information about my prisoner to myself.

“Yes. One remains. She is my prisoner.”

Maerwynne’s gaze rose above my head, as if trying to see her through the crystal floors above. This annoyed me, and I wanted to bark at him that she wasn’t even in this tower, but I held my tongue.

“She’s female? Let me see her.”

“What?” I asked, my voice falling low in warning. It was one thing to visit me and be welcomed here. It was another thing entirely to command me in my own castle.

“I cannot risk not seeing her, Wylfrael,” Maerwynne explained. “My mate could be anywhere. I must meet this human female and see if I starburn for her, or if my star map returns.”

His darkened hand curled into a fist, and I knew instantly that he’d fight me, to the death, if necessary, to find my prisoner and potentially save his star map.

“She’s not your mate,” I snapped.

His eyes narrowed.

“And you know this, how?

“Because she’s my prisoner, and prisoners do not get nice things like mates or conjugal visits.”

Maerwynne’s wings flickered, a tiny pulse of warning.

“If she is my mate, she will not be your prisoner for long.”

I stared at him in silence, weighing my options. On the one hand, I owed Maerwynne for trying to help me with Skalla, and for opening the sky door here when I couldn’t. On the other…

I simply did not want him to go up there and see her.

“Fine,” I said after a long moment. “But I have to go give her the web first. Otherwise, she won’t understand a word you say if you start starburning and waving your knot at her.”

I rather liked that image, actually. Maerwynne besotted, my human confused and wanting nothing to do with him, rejecting him. Our mates starburned, too, a heated mating fever that allowed them to take our knots, but two mates did not always starburn at the same time. Sometimes, both felt the mating bond snap into place at once. Sometimes, it took a long time for both of them. Sometimes, it was just one, but not the other until much later.

“Will you even be able to understand her?” I asked, stopping just as I’d begun ascending the stairs. “Her people’s language seems quite young.”

Maerwynne’s tail flicked.

“Yes. I got fresh webbing when I last saw Rúnwebbe.”

“Alright. Stay here. In the meantime, you can talk to my Mistress of Affairs, Aiko. She’s just as likely to be your mate as anyone else.

With that, I left him, carrying the satchel with the final scrap of webbing up the stairs and through the tunnel. As I went, I wondered why I’d had such a visceral reaction to Maerwynne wanting to see my prisoner. Perhaps, after what I’d learned today, I did not want him to find his own mate so easily when I could never find mine.

That sort of jealousy was not a fair or noble thing, but I felt no shame in it. I was too angry to be ashamed. Too much in grief for something I’d never had but always thought I would.

But then again, I hadn’t cared about him seeing Aiko…

It was something specific to the human, then. Well, then, it was as I’d told him. She was my prisoner. It would be far too easy for her to be spirited away by another stone sky god without answering for her people’s crimes. She had yet to explain herself, but now that I had the webbing, she would.

I’d make sure of it.

I held the satchel tight and opened her door.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Torrance

When the door opened again, I assumed it would be Aiko. She’d been with me the entire day so far, but a few minutes ago Shoshen had come, speaking quickly, and they’d gone away together. I’d taken that moment alone to finally change back into my still-damp clothing. My bra was still pretty wet, though, so I just wore trousers, panties, and my T-shirt. When the door opened once again I turned to face it, smiling, expecting to find the tall fox woman I’d actually grown to like despite the circumstances.

But it wasn’t Aiko.

It was Asha Wylfrael.

He entered the room like a storm in the shape of a man. Crashing dark clouds and searing lightning. Something’s different, I realized, panicking, stumbling backwards and away from him. He was a brutal male at the best of times, but this… this was different. Something had happened while he was gone, I was sure of it. Something that had infuriated him even more than my presence had.

“What’s wrong? What is it?” I asked shakily as he crossed the room to me in lunging, ground-swallowing strides. “Don’t come near me!”

He didn’t answer, but his grim mouth tightened, his eyes on mine, almost as if he’d understood what I’d said. But if somehow that was true, he certainly didn’t listen to me, because he just kept on advancing, relentless. Heart in my throat, I moved until my back hit the wall. Fuck! Trapped. I plastered my palms to the crystal, as if I could feel my way along to some escape. My eyes sought the door on the other side of the room, but my view of it was immediately blocked by Asha Wylfrael’s bulk.

“Don’t-” A gasp strangled my words as he seized me. He caged me in, one hand at my jaw, and in a rush of fear that he would strangle me, I shouted and struggled. He responded to that with a grunt and a shift of his position, one of his hard thighs pressing between my legs. The sudden grind of his leather-clad muscles against my clit made me jerk.

For some reason, he was only using one hand to hold me. A quick glance down told me he held something – a bag of some sort I hadn’t noticed before – in his other. Though he certainly could strangle me with only one massive hand, it now seemed that wasn’t his goal. Instead, he turned my head roughly to the side. His grip was like iron, and I forced myself to be still, scared my jaw – or my neck – might snap if I tried to wrench away from his hand. He muttered quietly, sounding immensely irritated, then did something that shocked me to my very core and made the place his thigh pressed between my legs pulse shamefully.

He fucking blew on me.

His breath cascaded along the side of my face, rustling strands of hair away from my left ear. It was like an electric shock. The hot whisper of sensation twanged through my nerve endings like licking fire, making me tremble and twitch.

“What are you doing?” I whispered. He replied instantly, mimicking the flow of a normal conversation, once again giving me the jarring sensation that he’d understood what I’d said.

His free hand rustled, doing something with the bag. A glimmer of something rainbow-coloured, flimsy like lace, fluttered in the corner of my eye.

And then my ear was on fucking fire.

This was different from the hateful, pleasurable fire of his breath on my skin. This felt like actual fire. I cried out at the shocking pain of it, my entire body going rigid. Behind the burn there was sound, too, buzzing rising like my head had been filled with hornets.

What had before been a tremble became a vicious, quaking tremor. Every muscle shook so violently I distantly wondered if I was about to have a seizure. The pressure at my jaw eased, but I barely noticed it above the agony in my ear. My hands flew upward. I wanted to rip my own fucking ear off, but Asha Wylfrael was in the way. His head was bent, his mouth against the burning place, his lips moving rapidly. So, I scratched and clawed at him instead, all thought gone from my head, reacting on pure instinct to the pain. He didn’t move. Didn’t react to me clawing at him like a feral animal. Didn’t even pull back when I grasped a chunk of white hair that had fallen loose and pulled as hard as I could.

The burning began to fade so slowly I almost didn’t notice it. The buzzing died down, too, and through that buzzing came words.

Asha Wylfrael’s words.

Words I could fucking understand.

“It won’t last long. Just hold on. Blast, your kind must be extra sensitive. It will ease, Torrance. It will ease.”

I tried to form words in response, but the shock of the encounter – the pain and his mouth and understanding him speaking to me, speaking my name – left me voiceless.

The burning, just as Asha Wylfrael promised, kept easing away, until eventually there was nothing left but a slight prickle.

But now, I wasn’t sure if that prickle was caused by whatever he’d done…

Or his mouth still hot against the skin of my ear.

I panted raggedly, my arms shaking around…

Around his neck.

At some point, wild with fear and pain, I’d stopped scratching at him and had started clinging to him, like I’d needed some solid anchor to hold onto. Our positions had completely changed. My feet were no longer touching the floor. I straddled his thigh, my crotch pressed against his hip. My back wasn’t sealed to the wall – his arms were there, wrapped around me like an embrace. One of his hands was splayed along my lower back, the other cradling the base of my skull, fingers buried in my hair.

You hurt me, I wanted to say. Wanted to sob.

But that would make me even more vulnerable than I already was. Instead, I merely croaked out the word, “You.”

A tiny flicker of tension went through Asha Wylfrael’s hold on me.

“Yes. Me.”

Holy shit.

It wasn’t some fluke or some hallucination caused by pain. I really could understand him.

“What… what did you do to me?”

“I gave you something that would allow us to speak to each other. I did not expect that it would…” He faltered, his voice nearly softening. But then he hardened it, freezing it like ice. “It was necessary.”

“Necessary!” I gasped. “You should have warned me!” My voice fell to a whisper. “You’re a monster.”

“Monster… I suppose to someone as fragile as you, I would appear so.” I felt his mocking sneer against my ear as well as heard it in his voice. “I did not know you would be that sensitive, though being so well acquainted with how weak you are, perhaps I should have guessed.”

Weak. Easy to hurt. Easy to kill.

“Let go of me,” I hissed. I ripped my arms away from his neck, the neck of the man who’d murdered my friends. His own arms didn’t move, apart from a slight tightening of his fingers in my hair. My scalp tingled as the tips of his claws grazed me. Not enough to draw blood. But almost.

“Now that you can understand me, little human,” he muttered darkly against my ear, “I will explain the situation to you in the bluntest possible terms. You humans invaded my world and stole things from my land. When I found the others here, they tried to kill me with laughable, stupid little weapons, so I destroyed them. You were abandoned by the survivors, and now you are the only one left to answer for the crimes of your people.” His mouth got so close that his lips dragged harshly against my skin when he spoke next. “I am not a monster, but a god. You are my prisoner. And you do not command me.”

But he let me go anyway.

It was only sheer hate, and the need to prove to him that I wasn’t weak, that kept me from collapsing when my feet hit the floor. Asha Wylfrael stood back from me, observing me keenly but coldly, his gaze sweeping up and down as if assessing me and finding me lacking in every way. His eyes lingered just a half-second too long at my chest before he turned away from me. I looked down to see my nipples taut and pointed, pressing outward from beneath the thin fabric of my T-shirt. I crossed my arms over my breasts, wishing now that I’d put my stupid bra on even though it was still so wet.

Asha Wylfrael didn’t say anything else, striding away from me to the door. But instead of going out, he stopped there, as if waiting for me to follow.

“What?” I snapped. “What do you want now?”

For a long moment, as if purposely making me wait, he didn’t answer. Instead, he reached up and untied the blue ribbon from his hair, the style dishevelled from my scratching and pulling. He ran his claws through the long, silver-white strands, smoothing them behind his shoulders. He still didn’t speak, turn around, or answer me as he retied the ribbon. When the bastard was done fixing his hair, he let his hands drop and spoke forwards, into the doorway.

“Come. We have a visitor.”

A visitor?

“Is that why you had to fix your hair?” I blurted. “Don’t want them to see how much I messed it up? That your prisoner was able to touch you, to do something to you?” I was being careless. Stupid, really, provoking him like this. But the pain and the adrenaline and thinking of Suvi and Min-Ji made me too angry to care.

“Come,” he said again, his tone clipped. “He will not leave without seeing you. I do not want to have to drag you there. This day has worn my control thin and I do not wish to break something.”

“Break something? Me, you mean?”

He still didn’t fucking look at me.

“Yes.”

“Why do you even care!” I cried. Now that I could understand him, and him me, all the confusion and fear of the past few days exploded into questions. “Why did you even let me live at all? I’m supposed to answer for my people’s crimes but you don’t want to break me, so what does that even mean? I’ll just stay here forever in this tower?”

“Do not mistake yourself,” he said, finally turning around. “I have plans for you. Interrogation, to start with, now that we can speak to one another.”

I reached up and rubbed my ear, shocked not to feel anything inside it. No chunk of metal, no technological translator clipped on like something from a sci-fi movie.

“What did you do to me?” I asked again. “What did you put in my ear?”

“A piece of the whisper weaver’s web. The pain has stopped, I presume?”

He asked it almost flippantly, like he didn’t care about the answer, but there was a slight adjustment of his posture – a nearly imperceptible straining forward and tensing of his wings. His whispered words from before came back to me in a tumble. Just hold on, Torrance…

I gave my ear one more stroke to be sure, but other than some lingering sensitivity, there was no pain. I still had no fucking clue what he’d put in there, and I could only hope that it wouldn’t start burning a hole in my brain from the inside out eventually. But as of now, my ear pretty much felt OK.

“I’m fine.”

He straightened, his wings easing into a folded position behind his back.

“Then we will go now.”

I didn’t want to go anywhere with him. But I also didn’t want to get dragged. And I couldn’t pass up the chance to leave this chamber – who knew when I’d be allowed to do so again? Arms still crossed tightly over my chest, I went to him.

Together, we went out the door. Unlike last time when he’d led me through this place, he didn’t walk ahead but rather walked beside me.

I decided to take full advantage of the positions and started asking more questions, even if he wouldn’t answer them.

“So, who is this visitor, then? Another fox alien?”

“Fox?” Asha Wylfrael’s blue gaze remained ahead. “I do not know what a fox is. Our language has no equivalent.”

“Like Aiko and Shoshen.”

“They are Sionnachans.”

“Alright. So, is this visitor a Sionnachan? Are there more of them around here?”

“He is not Sionnachan.”

He… I didn’t consider it a great sign that this visitor was male.

“And why does he want to see me?” I asked, my steps faltering, dread pooling in my belly.

Asha Wylfrael’s reply turned that liquid dread to stone inside me.

“His name is Maerwynne. He’s come to see if you are meant to be his bride.”

I stopped walking, reeling like his words had punched me.

“His what?”

Instinctively, just as I’d done when Asha Wylfrael had stormed into my room, more tempest than man, I started backing away. We were in the tunnel now, and I whirled and stumbled back towards the stairs. Stairs that led to a prison that now felt like a safe haven.

A strong fist closed around the back of my T-shirt, like someone grabbing a kitten by the scruff of its neck, halting me.

“No!” I said, reaching back for his hand, my bare feet slipping on the crystal. “Please, no! I don’t want to marry an alien, please!”

“I thought you’d welcome such a thing,” Asha Wylfrael muttered sardonically. “If Maerwynne starburns for you, he’ll take you away from here. Away from me.”

I stilled, letting his words absorb. But they brought me no sense of relief. Asha Wylfrael was a murderer, my brutal captor, but at least he was the devil I knew.

“I’d just be trading one form of captivity for another,” I whispered. And this new form of captivity would have a whole new layer of threat to it – the threat of sexual violence. They have to breed somehow, right? Why else would an alien want a bride, especially one he doesn’t even know?

“Calm yourself, little human,” Asha Wylfrael said, releasing the fabric of my shirt. “You’re not going to marry him.”

“I’m… I’m not?” Slowly, I turned to face him, breathing heavily. Asha Wylfrael’s body loomed so close to mine that my nipples brushed his front on my next inhale. I crossed my arms once more, peering up into a face that was hard, entirely like stone, except for the winter fire of those eyes.

“It is not your fate to be his bride.”

“And how do you know what my fate is?” I whispered.

Asha Wylfrael’s gaze trekked over my face. He caught a strand of my hair near my ear between his finger and thumb, rubbing it slowly before suddenly letting go, as if remembering himself. But he didn’t move away. And he didn’t turn around.

“Because I am your destiny’s keeper, Torrance. Your fate is as I will it.”

“Fuck you,” I spat. My whole body heated with rage, my cheeks burning, my palms sweating, my feet feverish against the cool crystal floor.

Asha Wylfrael raised a silvery brow.

“I will not attempt to parse the meaning of that particular phrase now. Maerwynne is waiting.”

“If you’re so certain I’m not going with him, why even bring me to him at all?”

He sighed deeply, like he was bone-weary of this conversation, of me.

Well, right back at you.

“Because Maerwynne needs to see you for himself. He needs to confirm in his own mind that which I already know to be true. That you are not meant to be his.”

“Not meant to be his… because I’m meant to be yours?” The heat inside me went bitterly cold, the sweat on my body turning clammy. Had I been wrong about this new alien posing a different kind of threat than Asha Wylfrael? I’d originally wondered about Asha Wylfrael’s potentially sexual intentions when he’d first brought me here, but he hadn’t seemed interested in forcing me into anything like that. But then I remembered the way his gaze had snagged on my nipples. The way he’d caught my hair in his hand just now, for no other apparent reason than to stroke it.

“Don’t be absurd,” he said, looking at me like I was, well, an alien.

“Well, excuse me for not knowing what the hell is going on here!” I cried. “Alright. Fine. Let’s just go get this over with.”

We continued through the tunnel. It was the first time I’d been in here during daylight. There was no bright sun filtering through the crystal, though. Everything outside was a haze of white, wind howling against the suspended walkway as if trying to tear it out of the sky.

“There’s no chance this could collapse, is there?” I asked, trying to keep the waver out of my voice. I knew from the clear night I’d last been here just how high this tunnel was above the snow below.

“You won’t fall,” is all Asha Wylfrael said, his wings rustling.

“Great, thanks,” I muttered.

We went back the way we’d first come – through the tunnel then down the many stairs to the entrance hall. I’d hoped we’d go somewhere else, so I could learn a little more about the layout of this place, but when I saw Aiko standing with a tall stranger before she quickly flattened her ears and left, I knew we wouldn’t be going any further.

This must be Maerwynne.

Maerwynne and Asha Wylfrael were a study in contrasts. Where Asha Wylfrael’s colouring made me think of snow, sky, and wind-swept rock, Maerwynne was onyx and magma. He was a little leaner than Asha Wylfrael, lithe and long-limbed, with black hide and crimson hair and wings. He had the same glowing dots and lines strewn across his body and wings that Asha Wylfrael did, but his glowed like orange-red flame instead of blue. His tail, when I caught a glimpse of it, was smooth, black, and long, with something that looked like a barb at the end.

Maerwynne’s attention locked onto me as we descended the last steps and came to a stop before him. His eyes, too, were different from Asha Wylfrael’s. Instead of columns of roiling blue flame, he had a slim circle of scarlet in each eye, almost like each eye had two razor-thin red crescent moons touching each other at their tips, stamped on the background of a vast black sky.

The two of them were so different but undoubtedly similar in ways. They both had wings, and both had the same glowing markings strewn across their bodies. What kind of creatures are they?

“Greetings,” said the newcomer to me, “I am Maerwynne.”

“So Asha Wylfrael tells me.”

As soon as I heard it out loud – Asha Wylfrael – the words were freshly translated, and I realized with consternation that I’d been calling my captor Lord Wylfrael this entire time.

“Has he told you why I wished to see you?” Maerwynne asked.

“Yes,” I replied flatly.

Not sure what else to say, and not wanting to speak further anyway, I remained silent after that, feeling tiny and strange and like I was on some sort of display between these two strange alien giants. I crossed my arms once again, hunching slightly backwards, only to find that Asha Wylfrael – no, just Wylfrael – was immediately behind me. When my back bumped him, I straightened up again reflexively, as if burned by the contact.

Maerwynne watched me with unblinking eyes.

“I would have some time alone with her, just as I have had a chance to speak alone with Aiko.” He said it to Wylfrael, though he was still looking at me.

I felt a flare of indignation at the fact that he was asking my captor’s permission to speak with me alone instead of mine. Wylfrael’s answer was so instantaneous that I didn’t even have a chance to feel afraid of being alone with this new, unknown alien.

“No.”

Finally, Maerwynne’s probing gaze left my face, flashing above my head to Wylfrael.

“No?” he repeated. There was no mistaking the threatening growl that had entered his voice. But Wylfrael did not back down.

“No. You asked to see her and now you have seen her. I sense no change in you, so clearly you do not starburn for her. You should be satisfied.”

“You and I both know it can take time to starburn, to feel the bond settle into place,” Maerwynne replied. “Perhaps I will stay here a few days, just to be sure.”

“If you believe that is a wise use of your time with your star map going dark. I cannot help but notice my prisoner has not brought it back,” Wylfrael said cryptically.

Even though I could understand their words now, I was rapidly losing the thread of the conversation. I’d considered myself intelligent back home, and I’d worked hard to earn my Ph.D. in astrophysics. But now, here, I felt the true depth of my human ignorance. There was so much I simply didn’t understand about the situation, about these beings. Unknown history and biology and culture swirling around me, as opaque and impenetrable as the blizzard outside.

Wylfrael’s comment seemed to have struck an uneasy chord in our visitor. His wings shifted tensely and his jaw tightened. He and Wylfrael remained silent for a long moment, tension growing in their locked gazes above my head. Maerwynne looked away first, his eyes finding my face once more.

“What is your name, human?” the visitor asked.

I hesitated.

From how close he stood behind me, I felt a new tension enter Wylfrael’s body. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I assumed it was some sort of anticipatory anger that I wouldn’t answer Maerwynne’s question. That I wasn’t showing enough respect or performing as he wanted.

I decided that it wasn’t worth staying silent. All that would earn me was more of Wylfrael’s ire.

“My name is Torrance.”

Wylfrael went very, very still at my back before suddenly bursting into movement. I yelped in surprise as his huge hand closed over my shoulder, moving me briskly behind him. His wings snapped open, a dizzying, star-speckled span of bone and black blocking my view of Maerwynne.

“Is there anything else you require before you leave, Maerwynne?” Wylfrael asked. The words seemed cordial enough, but the frosty message beneath them was obvious. Something akin to, you’ve overstayed your welcome, now get the fuck out of my house.

“No,” Maerwynne said, clearly taking the hint. I thought he’d walk out the door after that, but he added one more thing from the other side of the wall of Wylfrael’s wings.

“I will warn you now, Wylfrael, that I may come back again and ask to see her one more time, just to be sure. I expect that if and when I do, she will still be healthy and alive.”

Thanks, I thought sarcastically. I didn’t much appreciate being kept alive solely in case this guy decided he wanted to come back and marry me after all. But then again, at least it was something. Somebody else out there who knew I was here, who would notice if I died. It was a threat hanging over Wylfrael’s head that hadn’t been there before, a potential consequence if I was badly injured or killed or starved. Though, considering how intent Wylfrael was on making sure I ate, that last one didn’t seem very likely…

“And I will warn you, Maerwynne, that unless you starburn for her and lay claim to her as your mate, you have no power over her.”

Wylfrael’s voice got louder, harsher, booming in the space like thunder crashing through snow.

“Her life is not your concern. It is mine.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Wylfrael

Iwas acting unreasonably. I knew it, and so did Maerwynne. The tilt of his head as he regarded me told me he was trying to work out why. Why I was limiting his contact with a mere prisoner. No doubt he wondered if, like Skallagrim, I’d started going mate-mad.

Perhaps I was going mate-mad. I certainly did not feel as steady as I once had. But there was nothing for it now, even if that was the case. I’d never be able to seek out my mate and stave off the madness now that I knew what would happen to her.

I had no control over my future.

But I could control this situation. At least, I could try. And right now, retaining control meant keeping Torrance within my grasp, no matter how unhinged it made me look to Maerwynne.

The half-Vizhiri god seemed to come to some conclusion. Whether that conclusion was in favour of my sanity or not, I could not say for sure.

“Alright, Wylfrael. I will leave you now. I plan to visit the Sionnachan villages in case my mate is somewhere else in your world.” His red brows drew together. “I presume you will not hinder me in this, the way you have hindered me with Torrance.”

“Correct,” I grunted. It bothered me how little it bothered me – the idea of Maerwynne speaking to Sionnachan females – when the thought of him alone with Torrance made me want to smash something. It wasn’t as if I thought Torrance needed to be kept safe from him, either. Maerwynne, like the Vizhiri males of his mother’s culture, adhered strictly to stringent codes of honour. He’d trained his body and his mind endlessly, as males in his mother’s world had to, to hold back the Vizhiri urge to drain a female of her blood. He was a master of control and paragon of near-puritanical nobleness. Unlike most stone sky gods who took lovers before they found their fated mates, he, as part of his Vizhiri training, was celibate. I knew he wouldn’t harm Torrance in any way.

I realized with a lurch of loathing that I’d likely already hurt Torrance far more than Maerwynne ever could. I was not sure, though, whether that loathing was for myself, or her, for making me care. I remembered her panting in pain after I’d put the webbing in her ear. The arching agony of her body, writhing beneath mine, while something very close to terror seized upon me. Terror at her frailty, the tortured twisting of her form, the way she’d hurt when I had not meant for her to hurt. I had not anticipated, had not intended –

“I bid you farewell then, Wylfrael. After I visit the villages, I will depart Sionnach.” Maerwynne’s voice cut into the whirl of my thoughts. “As you so rightly pointed out,” he added archly, “my disappearing star map limits my time here. I will see you at the gathering.”

He pulled open the door and launched into the air, disappearing into the storm.

I stepped forward and closed the door once more, snow scattering across the floor and my boots, before turning around to face Torrance.

Her left ear was mostly hidden by her long hair, but the soft curl of flesh at the bottom was slightly visible. The skin there was bright red, a human sign of inflammation, perhaps. A corporeal reminder of the torment, brief but terrible, I’d inflicted.

Am I the weak one?

Disoriented by her reaction to the webbing, and trying to beat back my shame, I’d cut any sense of mercy for my prisoner to the quick. I’d sneered at her when she’d called me a monster, and I’d mocked the very frailty that had made me so afraid. I’d tried to turn her agonized response into a symptom of her own human weakness, rather than a consequence of what I’d done.

Part of me wanted merely to say that she deserved it and be finished. To use her own guilt to absolve myself. But it seemed that what she did or did not deserve mattered less and less every passing moment. I’d seen her suffer, made her suffer. Been the cause of it, and condemned by it, all at once.

Those eyes of hers condemned me, too. Looked at me like I’d somehow betrayed her even though I owed her nothing.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I ordered her before I could stop myself.

“Like what?”

Like I’ve somehow failed you, I said inside my own head.

Her hate I could withstand. Easily.

Her hurt, it turned out, was something else entirely.

I’d never felt less myself than I did in that moment, in the entrance hall of my childhood home with Torrance, her eyes so warm yet so wounded. Never felt less sure. Less strong.

Am I the weak one? I queried myself silently again.

I found that I could not confront the question.

And perhaps, in that, I had my answer.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Torrance

“So, is it interrogation time now?”

My question seemed to surprise Wylfrael, as if he’d forgotten all about that.

“No. Tomorrow,” he said. He dragged his hand down his face in a bizarrely human gesture of agitated weariness. “I will take you back to your room to rest now.”

“Rest,” I said sarcastically. “Ah, yes. It’s so easy to rest while I’m being held prisoner by the one who killed my friends.”

His wings pulsed.

“Your friends started firing on me the moment I appeared. They wanted to kill me on my own land. Should I have let them do it?”

“I don’t mean the soldiers!” I cried. “I mean the other civilian women! The ones without weapons! The ones like me.”

He stared at me for a long moment before saying, “I didn’t kill any of the weaponless ones.”

I swallowed hard, my heart slamming. Could that be true? Could I have been wrong about what he’d done? Could my friends still be out there somewhere after escaping on the ship?

“Are you lying?” I asked, squinting at him as if I’d somehow be able to see the truth on him, in him, if only I looked hard enough.

“What reason do I have to lie?”

“To make me trust you.”

He smirked, but it was a cold, mirthless expression.

“I don’t particularly care if you trust me.”

“Well… alright, good. Because I don’t.”

“We understand each other, then,” he seethed. “You do not trust me. I do not trust you. Why are we still standing here discussing this?”

“Patience isn’t one of your strong suits, I take it,” I muttered under my breath.

His jaw worked.

“It used to be.”

His words from earlier echoed. This day has worn my control thin. Something was bothering him more than my comments and questions.

“What happened while you were gone today?” I asked slowly. I was terrifyingly aware of how far I was pushing. But the idea that he hadn’t actually killed my friends, that he might not be quite as evil as I’d once thought, emboldened me. I didn’t think I could hold back the question even if I’d wanted to. Something about him had changed for the worse, which I hadn’t even known was possible.

I knew I was right on the money when his eyes flashed and his nostrils flared. His hands jerked forward and then closed into fists, as if he wanted to throttle me and barely stopped himself.

“It’s none of your concern,” he bit out.

“It is my concern,” I countered, my voice cracking, “if it makes you more violent in your dealings with me. You’re angrier since you got back. Rougher. My ear…” I resisted the urge to reach up and touch it. “You could have warned me. At least tried to communicate with me about what you were doing. You can obviously understand me now, which makes me think you had to do the same thing to yourself. Why couldn’t you have done it in front of me? Put the thing in your ear where I could see it so I could get some context!”

“You forget yourself,” he warned. “You are not here to get context. You are a criminal, here to give me information.”

“You’re punishing me for something I’ve had no hand in!”

He cast a meaningful look at my hands. “Did you only grow those now? Did you not have hands attached to your wrists when I found you where you should not have been, plundering my world?”

“Well, yes! But I had no choice! I didn’t choose to come here. I was forced to! The people with the guns who were firing at you, they kidnapped me. Took me from my home. Brought me here against my will, along with all the other women on the ship.”

“Well, isn’t that rather convenient,” Wylfrael said flatly. “You want me to believe that you have absolutely no responsibility and can be blamed for nothing. You are an innocent victim, wronged both by your own people and now, because I have imprisoned you unfairly, by me.”

I wanted to cry hot, raging tears at the way he so easily dismissed the truth. My truth. The trauma of what had been done to me becoming a fake sob story in his eyes, something cobbled together to save my own neck.

My eyes filled, but I bit down on my tongue as hard as I could, using that sharpness to distract from the distraught panic rising inside me. My throat was too tight to say anything more, so I simply stared at him, refusing to blink and let even a single tear slip out.

Wylfrael faltered, a slight furrow forming between his brows.

“Shoshen said he heard you wailing last night. Why?”

I swallowed, feeling like my throat was full of stones. It took a moment before I could force out a reply.

“Why do you even care?” I said hoarsely.

“Because you are under my keep and my control. If you are ill, or injured, I need to know about it.” He left the door he’d just closed and crossed the space to me. “You may not have understood me before, but I already told you I will not kill you.”

“How very generous,” I whispered. But there was no bite to the words. My fury was fading into something more like melancholy. Or maybe even numbness. “Is that why you woke me up and stayed in my room all night?”

“Yes. Your breathing didn’t sound right.”

He cares if I eat. He cares how my breathing sounds. It really doesn’t seem like he wants me dead…

Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he really had let the other women, my friends, live, just like he was letting me. That was a tiny spark, a flicker in the numbing dark descending all around me. It gave me enough energy not to give up entirely. It wasn’t exactly hope. But it was something.

“I wasn’t wailing,” I muttered, sniffing hard. “I was weeping. And I like to think I kept it quite quiet and dignified.”

“Loud enough to be heard through the crystal door,” Wylfrael replied, looking unconvinced. “Weeping… Why do humans weep?”

For a moment, I wanted to scream, to say that it was all because of him. But instead, I just looked down, down and away from eyes that both demanded and beseeched.

“We weep for what we’ve lost.”

Though I watched his boots, I could feel his gaze raking over my head and face, like a physical drag. One of his black boots twitched forward, like he was going to take a step and collapse the final distance between us.

I wondered if he’d touch me. Hold me the way he’d held me upstairs when I’d been hurting.

In a vague and distant way, as if this were all happening to someone else, I wondered if I’d let him.

His foot stilled. He didn’t move except to say, “I have lost things too, little human. More than a mortal like you could ever even hope to fathom.”

He’d called me a mortal… Did that mean he wasn’t?

I am not a monster, but a god…

“The length of someone’s life doesn’t tell you anything about how much is in it – how much there is to lose,” I retorted, ripping my gaze up from his boots to his eyes. “I’ve lost my family, my friends. Everything!” I gestured wildly about the space. “This is all yours, isn’t it? Your castle, your servants. Your world.”

His face darkened, and for a moment I thought it was with animosity. But I realized with a small, startled cry that it wasn’t. It was agony.

“What I lost today was worth more than any world.”

Seeing this side of him – something other than moody arrogance and icy control – shocked me to my core. It cracked my defences, and left me with the absurd desire to take his hand and say, “I’m sorry.”

But I filled in those cracks, refusing to feel for the man who’d trapped me.

“Maybe you deserve it,” I spat.

That was a mistake. Maybe he really will want to kill me now.

But he showed no anger. The twisting grief in his expression deepened for a split-second, then suddenly vanished, replaced by wintery distance.

His gaze fell to his hands, which he looked at oddly, as if he didn’t recognize them.

“Perhaps I do.”

A hushed beat passed. Weariness flooded my limbs. I absolutely hated it, but all I wanted now was to crawl right back into my beautiful jail cell of a room and sleep.

Without another word, Wylfrael led me there.

Without another choice, I let him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Wylfrael

Iremained in the chamber below Torrance’s for the remainder of the blustering afternoon. I slouched in one of the chairs, rubbing at my jaw and staring at the flickering firestone for so long I barely registered the stretching of shadows as day howled into night. Aiko brought me an evening meal, and when I saw the other plate on the tray, meant for the human above, I merely grunted, “Make sure she eats it,” before closing my chamber door behind her.

I took my plate over to the table but did not eat. I didn’t sit down again, either, instead opting to pace the room in tensely measured strides, my hands clasped behind my back, my wings stretching and folding over and over again. My thoughts swirled like the storm outside. Thoughts of Skalla, in an unknown location, in an unknown state of mind, with an unknown mate. Thoughts of star-darkness and inaccessible councils and gathering shadows. Thoughts of my faceless future bride, bloodied by my own blade.

And thoughts of a small, insolent, sorrowful human, the hardest to shake of them all. Her proclamations were winding tight cords inside me, binding me in confusion that felt so much like a cage I wondered who the real prisoner was.

You punish me for something I’ve had no hand in! I was brought here against my will! I’ve lost everything!

I stopped pacing, breath hissing between my fangs. My vest felt suddenly too tight, and I wrenched it off my body, tossing it, along with my sword, into a heap on the floor.

Was she truly a victim? Had I been wrong in how I’d treated her?

Or was she simply a very accomplished liar?

I didn’t know enough of her, or her people, to formulate an answer. I’d have to proceed with the interrogation, just as I’d always planned, and hope that I could force my way through any falsehoods.

I’ll start tomorrow, I vowed. After some sleep, when some of my sanity returns.

Outside, the storm finally exhausted itself, settling into silence. But despite the calm, sleep did not come to me.

I lay on my back in the bed, hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling and pretending that I wasn’t imagining exactly where Torrance was above me. My jaw ticked as I pictured her, almost against my own will, the image infuriatingly absent of concrete details. Was she asleep, like I was supposed to be? Or was she awake, trying and failing not to think about me just as I was about her?

Is she weeping?

If she was, I could not hear it. I stiffened against a sudden restlessness, the urge to crawl, like a Sionnachan dog, to her door and press my ear against it.

I did not do it. But my ears strained anyway.

And in that straining, I did hear something. Not weeping…

But footsteps.

Slow, quiet, faltering footsteps, each one less solid and sure than the one before, as if each step forward, downward, weakened whatever resolve had brought her out of her room in the first place.

I was mildly surprised that my initial reaction to this wasn’t anger, but curiosity.

Where does my little human think she’s going in the middle of the night?

I rose from the bed silently and stalked to the door. I left it closed, crossing my arms and leaning against it, my ears tipped to the side, primed to catch any new sound she made.

The sotasha fur on the stairs muffled her movements, but even so, I was keenly aware of her positioning, something I could sense through the door almost more than I could hear.

I knew the moment her foot touched the landing outside. She didn’t have time to react before I’d wrenched the door open, seized her, pulled her into my chamber, and closed the door again. I crowded her with my body, forcing her backward until she collided with crystal, my hands circling her waist.

“Do I need to put a lock on that door?” I murmured beside her ear. She shivered, and the movement made her silken skin graze my lips.

“No! I don’t… I just couldn’t stay in there any longer. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Well, that makes two of us, I thought wryly.

“It’s not like I could escape,” she panted bitterly. “You and I both know I wouldn’t get very far outside.”

“Were you planning on going outside?” I asked, noting the lack of winter clothing. Her small, pale feet were bare on the crystal, and her body heat bloomed outward from her thin, short-sleeved tunic.

“I don’t know! I just needed some space. Something other than that room. I felt like I was suffocating.”

Maybe that feeling of suffocation was why she breathed so raggedly now. Her chest rose and fell in violent motions, each heaving breath making the tips of her breasts brush my bare front. I realized that I’d once again gotten my thigh between both of hers. Yet more heat seeped through both her trousers and mine, coming from the hidden place between her legs, burning me from knee to groin.

In a blinding, explosive moment, I was consumed. Consumed by soft skin and heat. Fury and desire. Desire so confounding I could not even name it. There were too many facets in the need, like a dagger of dark crystal lodged in my chest. I wanted to push her away. To punish her. To drag her by her fragrant hair out into the snow, barefoot and begging, until she was so cold she’d have no choice but to retreat into the venomous mercy of my warmth.

Sionnach preserve me, I wanted to palm the swells of her breasts. To feel them with my hands instead of the skin of my chest.

I wanted to want nothing at all.

But my cock thickened, and my hips twitched, and I knew that the salvation of wanting nothing would not come to me tonight.

I wrenched myself away from her, wings flexing, suddenly desperate for space, air, stars, darkness.

“You want to go outside?” I rasped.

Begging… barefoot in the snow…

It was only by sheer force of will – the will of a god – that I did not look down at her toes. My voice was strangled when I spoke again. I did not recognize it when I told her, “Get your boots.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Torrance

Iscrewed up.

I shouldn’t have tried to leave the room. I should have known he’d use some fucking alien power to know I’d done it. But even if I’d known he would find me, catch me, cage me in against the door, I still wasn’t sure I could have stopped myself. The room had begun closing in on me, the reality that, even if he did believe me eventually about not coming here on purpose, I still wouldn’t have a way out, a way home. Going all the way home to Earth would never be an option, anyway. The mission I’d been on was so secret I was drugged and put on the ship before I was ever even told about it. I knew too much now. If I somehow showed back up at my old job, my old life, I would run into some major problems.

I’d been thinking about all of that when I’d suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out.

Well, seems like I’m going out now.

Out. All the way out.

For a grim moment, I wondered if Wylfrael meant to take me out and leave me there.

But I grabbed my boots, and my snowsuit, and went back to him anyway.

He was standing with his back to me, staring into the fireplace, when I walked into the room I’d been pulled into a minute before. This room was a lot like my chamber, only larger, and by the food on the table and the rumpled bedding, I could tell that Wylfrael had been staying here, something I hadn’t been aware of before now. No wonder there’s no lock on my door if he’s right here below me.

In a confusing, heated rush, his voice came back to me, like a physical caress against my ear. Do I need to put a lock on that door? There hadn’t been the fury I’d expected. There had been a note of something else – challenge, maybe. Daring me to make him do it.

I watched Wylfrael become aware of my presence with his back turned. His wings tucked in tighter, his spine straightening. He turned around to face me, his expression smooth and controlled, a stark contrast to the Wylfrael who’d snatched me from the landing outside.

“I brought my boots,” I said, breaking the suddenly oppressive silence. “You’re not planning on leaving me out there to teach me a lesson or something, are you?”

I wasn’t sure I liked the flicker of tension in his tail and wings at my question.

But his answer was precise and certain.

“No. Now put your boots on.”

I dropped my snowsuit then took the bundled socks out of the boots, sliding them on. I didn’t need to look up to know that Wylfrael watched me relentlessly. I could feel it.

I pulled on the white and grey winter boots and then reached for my parka.

“That’s filthy.”

Wylfrael wasn’t looking at me now, but rather the dried, cracked patches of silver marring the white fabric.

“That’s hardly my fault,” I said, frowning down at the parka. “You’re the one who bled all over me.”

I glanced at his bare torso, gobsmacked to see he only had one main bandage remaining, wrapping around his lower abdomen. The rest of him – his chest, his wings – were completely healed. Bullet wounds vanished in mere days.

He wasn’t lying. He really is immortal.

The realization left me awe-stricken. I stared at him, wondering how long he’d lived, how much he’d seen. I wondered about his biology, his genetics, his family tree, his makeup at the atomic level.

My next realization was perhaps even more shocking than that – I was no longer afraid of him.

I could feel it in the way I openly stared at him, in the way I’d just spoken to him, complaining about how he’d bled on my jacket. Even when he’d yanked me out of the hall a few moments ago, I hadn’t been afraid of him or his presence or his hold on me specifically, but more the idea of a lock on my door, of being even more trapped than I already was. My heart had pounded, my breath had been fast under his hands, but that was more due to adrenaline at being caught than actual fear.

When did that happen?

Was it when he told me he hadn’t killed my friends and I’d actually begun to believe it, something instantaneous, a light switched off in my brain? Or had it been slowly ebbing away this entire time?

“Leave it behind,” Wylfrael said, and for a strange moment, I thought he was talking about my fear. But then I understood – he meant the snowsuit.

“I won’t be able to stay out there more than a minute or two without a snowsuit,” I told him.

“What’s a minute?”

“Oh. It’s sixty seconds.”

He gave me a dry look, and I realized that “sixty seconds” probably meant as little to him as the word “minute” had.

“One… two… three. That was about three seconds. I’m saying I can only be out there 120 seconds without protection.”

“I know. Leave it.”

I hesitated, feeling like if I left behind my snowsuit I’d be abandoning some essential mode of protection, and not protection just from the cold. But Wylfrael was watching me, waiting for me, and with a motion that was more like an instinctive reflex than something I’d specifically meant to do, I dropped the parka on top of the snowpants on the floor.

I hope I don’t regret this, I thought as we left the room. But I still wasn’t afraid. If anything, I felt relief. Relief that I’d be outside, even for just one single freezing moment. Even if it had to be with him.

Nervous anticipation quickened my steps. Wylfrael kept pace easily beside me, his long, leather-clad legs propelling him with controlled grace down the carpeted stairs like a wolf padding through snow.

We made our way through the empty entrance hall. I could picture Maerwynne’s lithe, red-winged form by the door so easily, even though it felt like it had been ages since he’d been here.

“Come.” Wylfrael drew my attention away from the front door. “We are not going that way.”

Instead, he led me into the kitchen, towards the same door I’d once sprinted out of. Before opening the door, though, Wylfrael began what appeared to be a search of the clean, quiet kitchen. He moved cauldrons, scoured shelves, muttering something that sounded a lot like, “Where did Aiko put it?” Having no idea what he was looking for, and not really interested in helping him with whatever it was, I allowed myself to gaze around the kitchen in a way I hadn’t gotten the chance to do before.

In some ways, it was what I’d imagined a medieval castle’s kitchen to look like, but with its own alien, or Sionnachan, I supposed, twist. There was no power source that I could see besides the fiery rocks that seemed capable of burning for days. A huge one was in a massive crystal hearth, casting a warm, hearty glow over the space. Smaller fire rocks were placed on high shelves for yet more lighting, illuminating crystal jars, bottles, and stone bowls, as well as what looked like bunches of small stems – maybe herbs – dried out and bound together with what appeared to be leather twine.

There was another doorway in here – one I hadn’t noticed before. I realized, from the sounds I heard, that Wylfrael had gone through it, descending into what was probably a cellar.

I’m alone.

I was alone, somewhere other than my room.

A thoughtless instinct told me to make a run for it. Fuck the fact I had no snowsuit, I just needed to get out of here. Heart slamming, I quickly put that ridiculous notion aside. I’d already tried that once and Wylfrael had stopped me with a mere sweep of his hand through the air.

I examined the kitchen with new eyes, searching for something I could use to my benefit. What that would be, I had no idea.

Until I saw the knives.

I didn’t even think, just ran to the counter where they glimmered, sharp blades of dark crystal and various types of stone. Doubting I had much time, I made my selection quickly, grabbing the first one that looked small enough for me to grip easily and hide but large enough to hurt.

What I would do with it, I had no fucking clue. Wylfrael had healed from bullet wounds as if they’d only been paper cuts, so I doubted I could do any real damage to him if it ever came to that. But even so, I wanted desperately to have it. To know that it was with me, sharper and steadier than any part of my human body could be, and at least more effective than the butter knife I’d kept.

“Planning on doing some cooking? Cutting meat, perhaps?” Wylfrael’s voice cleaved through the air with a deadlier edge than any knife. My head jerked up to find him watching me from the cellar doorway.

Heart in my throat, I switched my knife to my left hand – the hand furthest from him – and hid it behind my back. I was aware of just how stupid that was. It was the action of a child who’d been caught with a cookie before dinner and thought that all evidence would disappear the moment it was out of sight. But that was why I’d wanted the knife in the first fucking place – so that I wouldn’t feel like a powerless child. Not because I was as afraid of Wylfrael as I’d once been, but because I no longer wanted to feel so defenceless and small in a world that wasn’t mine.

“You chose a good one,” Wylfrael said, his voice smooth and cold, like dark ink flowing over crystal. “Very sharp. Will slice through most tissue with ease. Skin. Muscle. Sinew. Even bone.” He came to a stop before me. “Most tissue,” he reiterated. “But not mine, of course.”

He placed something white and fluffy on the counter beside us. He did it slowly, not even looking at me, as if daring me to try to take him out. To see what would happen. I may have been stupid enough to try to hide the knife behind my back, but I didn’t have a death wish. He straightened, his gaze finding me once more, and I knew I’d have to drop it.

“I’d let you keep it,” he said suddenly, surprising me and knocking me off-balance. “Something like this is as useless against me as the other knife I let you have. But unlike that dull little blade,” – his hand shot out, grasping my left arm firmly by the elbow and pulling my hand forward – “this one could do some damage to a Sionnachan. And I will not let that happen.”

“What?” I cried, horrified. “No! I would never hurt Aiko or Shoshen!” The idea was abhorrent. Even though they’d been part of my captivity, the thought of hurting one of them, Jesus Christ, stabbing one of them, made me want to throw up. They were too sweet, too gentle, and I had a sneaking suspicion they didn’t even like that I was being held against my will, but that they were as powerless against Wylfrael as I was. They called him Lord Wylfrael, after all.

As Wylfrael held up my arm between us and the crystal blade of the knife caught the light, I wondered if I was too soft, too kind and sentimental for my own good. Maybe I should have considered hurting Aiko or Shoshen, should have done anything and everything to get out of here – or at least spill some alien blood in the process. Maybe the fact I hadn’t even thought about it when I’d grabbed the knife, hadn’t even considered that I could use it on the Sionnachans, proved how weak I really was. Would compassion like that get me killed?

But I internally rebelled against that line of thinking. In that moment, I made a choice. The choice to hold onto whatever shreds of goodness I could. I wouldn’t let this world, this man, strip my humanity away.

“I wouldn’t hurt them,” I said again, quietly this time, my voice steady and certain. Wylfrael studied my face, his focus boring into me as his hand slid from my elbow to my wrist.

“If you’re a liar, you’re a very good one.”

He squeezed my wrist. With a cry, my fingers snapped open. The knife clattered to the floor between our feet. I didn’t think that Wylfrael had squeezed me particularly hard, especially considering how strong he was, but it had hurt a lot more than expected. Then I remembered the bruise there. Wylfrael appeared to remember it, too, at the exact same moment. His grip eased instantly. He lifted my hand upwards and frowned at the dark splotch on my skin.

“This looks worse than before,” he muttered, shifting his grip so that his fingers and thumb didn’t hide the injury. He was right – like all bad bruises, this one looked a hell of a lot uglier as it started to heal. Though the swelling had faded, the colours were much darker.

“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s healing. We can’t all recover as fast as you.”

He made an unsatisfied “Hmmph” sound deep in his throat, then dropped my hand. He stretched out his fingers, and the knife rose into the air, flying right into his grip. I watched as he set the knife back in its place on the counter. This was the first time I’d seen him use his power to move things without touching them since he’d raised that snow wall.

“How come you’ve never used that kind of power on me?” I thought of all the times he’d grabbed me by my hand or my hair or my shirt. When he was putting that rainbow thing, the web as he’d called it, into my ear, he could have held my entire body in place with his mind and levitated the burning thing, shooting it directly into my ear canal.

“Every stone sky god is naturally inclined to be able to manipulate certain kinds of substances depending on his lineage and homeworld. For me, those substances are things like snow, rock, crystal. Trying to control a creature of flesh and blood would require more energy and would also afford me much less precision.”

He picked up the fluffy thing he’d laid down on the counter. “In short, I’d be as likely to crush you as to control your movements.” He shook out the thing, which I now could see was a garment. “And I’ve already told you, several times now, that I do not plan to kill you.”

“Call me crazy, but reminders like that are helpful when you’re trapped in an alien’s tower,” I retorted.

“Reminders of how I could destroy you in an instant?”

“Reminders that you’re not going to kill me.”

He didn’t respond to that, instead thrusting the garment towards me.

“Put this on.”

“What is it?” I asked. It was too long and floppy to figure out what it even was. It just looked like a blanket to me.

Wylfrael fiddled with something I couldn’t see, then swept the fur behind me, settling it around my shoulders. His knuckles brushed my neck, making me swallow dryly, muscles contracting. The roiling columns of his irises shifted from his fingers to my throat, and a distinct tension entered the area around his mouth and jaw. He withdrew his hands and straightened, having had to bend over quite deeply to make up for the massive height difference between us.

“It’s a cloak,” I said, feeling rather stupid for saying something so obvious out loud. I reached up, feeling the silken ribbon that Wylfrael had tied in a bow at the hollow between my collarbones. The tied ribbon held the cloak closed at my shoulders, the garment flowing downward to pool around my boots in a soft circle of fur. I stroked the bow, slightly amazed that someone with claws and fingers as large as his had managed such a delicate task. The skin of my neck tingled where he’d grazed me, and without thinking, I traced the places he’d touched me. My fingertips ignited the echo of that skimming contact.

Wylfrael observed me silently, then, as if deciding rather suddenly to do it, he bent to me once more, his fingers returning to the area of my neck. My breath snagged, and my palm flattened to my throat in a protective instinct.

But he didn’t touch my skin again. Instead, he felt along the fur gathered around my shoulders, then pulled it upward. A hood framed my face, exceptionally soft fur tickling my temples and cheeks.

And then, silent as the very substances that made up his domain – snow, rock crystal – he stepped away and opened the door.

Clad in the clothing of his world, I went through it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Wylfrael

The storm had deposited a significant amount of snow around the castle. The huge pile left behind by my snow wall no longer looked out of place. Other huge drifts, like swells of a frozen sea, or dunes of a far-off desert, undulated over the land.

I raised my hand, beginning to clear a path forward. If it had just been me alone, I probably would have ploughed my way through it, thankful for the cold effort of the task. But the thought of Torrance trying to walk through, or climb over, drifts that came up past her shoulders, made my wings tense in irritation. She’d probably snap her ankle, or that ridiculous little neck of hers.

I refused to look back at her, at her neck. So pathetically skinny and breakable. So smooth-skinned and supple and warm, throbbing with her human heartbeat, constricting under my touch as if unsure whether to swallow, speak, or scream.

I did not need to look back to know she followed. Her footsteps made softly muffled sounds, and her human scent was close behind me, distinct in the crisp air, easily detectable even under the Sionnachan cloak. Her breathing, at first quick and shallow, grew deeper, more rhythmic.

She likes it out here.

That both pleased and greatly annoyed me. Or perhaps the annoyance was more from the fact that I was pleased at all. That I should feel any sort of satisfaction that this human, this prisoner, approved of the world she’d invaded.

“Do you have snow where you come from?” I asked.

I’m just gathering information about her people and planet as part of the interrogation, I told myself, pushing back against the possibility that I was curious specifically about her – her experiences, her life, and what she’d left behind.

She breathed in deeply, then out, before answering.

“Yes.”

I tried to strangle the instant feeling of kinship that single word had created.

“Do you like the snow?” I asked.

So much for strangulation.

I focused on swishing snow out of the way, on moving forward, so that I could not confront the idiocy of the question I’d just asked.

“Yes,” she said again. Something melancholic, maybe wistful, quieted her voice. “I love it.”

Blast it all into the stone sky.

Something in me was nearing desperation. Desperation to remind myself just how different we were. That not a single thing in her should be admired or shared or respected. That we had nothing, nothing in common.

Except she liked the snow. Loved it.

Just as I did.

I had no plan as we walked. I just kept moving forward, towards the treeline, concentrating on carving out the path. I wondered if I’d ever stop, or if I’d just keep going until dawn, Torrance trailing quietly behind me. It was only her sudden intake of breath, and some softly murmured word of surprise, that caused me to halt.

“What is that?” she asked. I followed her gaze to the open structure beside the barn. There was a single sontanna there, the same one I’d seen before. I wondered if we had more of them, taking shelter in the barn with the sotasha, or if this was the only one. I’d been so busy with Torrance and Skalla and Maerwynne that I had very little clue as to what was happening on my own estate.

But I could at least answer her question.

“It’s a sontanna,” I said.

“Can… can we go closer?”

There was something in her voice, some hushed wanting that made my skin feel hot and itchy despite the fact I had no vest or cloak. I regarded her closely, noticing she’d once again changed colour on me. Her cheeks were very, very pink, as was the tip of her nose. But there were no signs of discomfort that I could discern. Her eyes were luminous beneath the starlight, peering out from below the hood I’d put on her, fixed entirely on the sontanna.

I should deny her this.

I knew it. I knew that I should not continue to give way to her, to lose my grip. I’d already let her out of her room for this walk, and I knew I should not give her yet more things she wanted. I knew it, even as I turned my body and started carving a path towards the sontanna.

Torrance hurried behind me, her steps quicker than before, her body close to mine. Her fogging breath and body heat skimmed over my bare back and wings, a ferociously pleasant sensation that I simultaneously despised and ached for.

We reached the sontanna’s enclosure. I murmured steadying words to it, testing its training. It remained calm, and upon closer inspection of the size of its antlers, I concluded she was female. I’ll have to ask Shoshen her name as soon as I get the chance.

I patted her pink and silver neck, and she tossed her head contentedly.

“Any friends in there, girl?” I asked her. “A mate?”

I leaned over, glancing through an opening into the barn. All I saw in there were sotasha and a sleeping hunting hound. No mate, no foal. We’ll have to remedy that soon. Though she was large and strong, I could tell she was young. We’d need to find a mate for her soon. Though sontanna did not naturally live in packs, they were social animals, and they mated for life.

I went back to patting her neck, becoming once again aware of Torrance beside me when she spoke.

“Will he bite me?”

“She’s female,” I corrected.

“Oh. I assumed because of the antlers that… Well, obviously she’d be different than something from Earth. Although, I think female reindeer have antlers, now that I think about it.”

“You have creatures like this where you come from? Earth?”

A shimmering smile touched her lips. With a tightening of my jaw, I realized this was the first time I’d seen Torrance smile without a touch of malice or defiance in the expression. Her countenance was tender, touched with something akin to reverence.

“No. Not like this,” she answered. Her voice was softer than usual, too. No anger in it, no fear or notes of complaint, just something that was far too close to awe-struck affection for my comfort. “We have horses and deer but she’s more like a unicorn, just with antlers.” Her cheeks grew pinker, her voice even sweeter. “She’s like something from a dream.”

So, the human could dream. And she dreamed of beautiful things, things like sontanna with pearlescent coats and manes like morning sky.

I could not remember the last time I’d dreamed.

“What’s her name?”

I did not know, and I was ashamed to admit it to her. Which was absurd, that I would feel shame for anything in front of her, an interloper, a prisoner. But I was. And it only added to my shame that I wanted to lie about it. To come up with a name on the spot, just so that I would not appear to be the sort of man who did not deign to know a name.

But I could not think of an appropriate name, or even a word to act as one. I stared at Torrance, and the only words pounding through my head were ones like soft skin and honey, tiny and willful, bruised and beautiful. No! Stone of the sky, not beautiful, something else, something –

“Will she bite me?” Torrance asked again. Apparently, she’d given up on me answering the name question, and I found myself abhorrently relieved by that. Her small hands had emerged from her cloak and were clasped together in front of her chest, as if she was barely holding herself back from reaching for the creature.

“Yes,” I grunted, knowing it wasn’t true. “Sontanna are notorious for biting insolent females.”

Torrance dropped her hands. The tremulous smile disappeared, her mouth flattening into an expression of shielded disappointment that made something in the vicinity of my chest twang painfully.

“Although,” I said, ignoring the voice inside me that told me to stop, stop now, to let her be disappointed, let her be sad, blast if I cared, “if I held her, she likely wouldn’t.”

Wariness crept into Torrance’s gaze, warring against something that looked like hopeful desire. It was a desire I recognized easily, something almost child-like, pure and innocent, born out of love and loneliness. The tender-hearted need to stroke a beautiful animal, to befriend it, to protect it and be protected.

Once again, a sense of kinship rose inside me. And once again, I struggled to beat it back. I did not want to think of her as tender-hearted, as someone who loved animals and snow like I did. I wanted her simple. One-note. An unrepentant, belligerent, evil little thief. I wanted her to be someone who deserved everything I could throw at her.

Make me hate you, I hissed inside my own head.

But, as she was wont to do, she disobeyed.

Instead, the tight wariness faded from her face, and the aching hope grew stronger, brighter, until I could no longer deny it.

I fisted the sontanna’s mane – gently, barely even holding the pink strands, a mere illusion of mastery – and uttered a quietly stern command meant to make it look like I was in control of the calm creature when such control was not at all required.

“You’re sure?” Torrance asked, one final brush of hesitation even as her hand rose in the air.

I have been sure of nothing since I found you.

“Yes,” was all I said.

Her hand floated upwards, trembling slightly. Her slender fingers made tentative contact with the sontanna’s mane. The sound of her gasp shot through me, like starlight spearing through water.

“Oh,” she whispered thickly, her other hand rising to stroke the sontanna. “Oh, you’re lovely, aren’t you?” The sontanna snuffled happily, as if in agreement. Her pink tail swished, and she lowered her nose, bumping it to Torrance’s cheek, knocking the hood back and nuzzling inward.

Torrance’s eyes went so wide I worried she’d been injured by the contact. My fist tightened, ready to wrench the sontanna back, but my fingers slackened instantly when Torrance began to laugh. It started as a shaky huffing sound that expanded into something louder, more melodic. Her eyes shone, glimmering with moisture as I’d seen them do before when she was unhappy, and I could not help but wonder what had made her sad even while she laughed.

I want you simple.

Sorrow and laughter. Innocence and treachery. A stolen crystal knife in a soft little hand. A hand that was stroking and petting with such gentleness now, reaching to hug the sontanna’s bent neck.

“Do you want to ride her?” The question was out before I could stop it. Torrance’s laughter ceased.

“I… I don’t know how. I’ve never ridden a horse on Earth.”

“You don’t need to know how. I do.”

“You mean I’d be riding with you?”

She looked at me aslant, rolling her lips between her teeth, clearly weighing whether riding the sontanna would be worth sitting that close to me.

I was about to snatch the offer back, to order her back up to her room, to shove her into her place, the place of a prisoner I could at least try to control and understand.

I opened my mouth to do it, but it was her voice that echoed on the air.

“Fine.”

We watched each other, as if both testing the other’s nerve. I released the sontanna’s mane and grasped Torrance’s waist. Ignoring her cries of, “Just get me a stool! Or stirrups!” I hoisted her upward and set her on the sontanna’s back.

With a beat of my wings, I lifted to join her. I straddled the sontanna, and when I got into position behind Torrance, feeling her narrow hips pressed between my splayed thighs, I knew I’d made a grave error of judgment.

Perhaps she also wondered about my judgment.

“Why are you doing this? Why did you even let me out here?”

The answer was something I would not even attempt to untangle for her. Instead, like my false show with the sontanna a moment ago, I lied.

“I merely thought you’d respond to my interrogation better somewhere other than your room,” I said. I decided that I could make that into something other than a lie and that I would use this time to question her.

“Oh,” she said, the word flat and unreadable. I fought the urge to grab her by the shoulders and twist her so that I could see her face. Her hood was still lowered, her hair warm as a breeze stirred the strands against my chest and neck.

With a Sionnachan command and a tightening of my legs, I urged the sontanna into motion. The jostle of movement made Torrance slide sideways, and my right arm looped around her waist, steadying her. I found I did not know what to do with my other hand, so I curled it into a fist against my thigh.

She was tense as twine pulled too tight in my hold.

But she did not tell me to let go.

I did not need reigns, or even gestures or words to direct the sontanna. I merely had to use my power to clear the snow, like I’d done while we were walking, and the sontanna followed the path. As it walked, I made good on my promise of interrogation and asked Torrance questions of her people, her world, and why they’d ever dared to come here.

“We need resources,” she told me. “Cleaner power sources to fuel our planet to help preserve our environment. At least, that’s what our mission was about. We were studying your trees.”

“Stealing them, you mean,” I butted in, remembering what I’d seen when I’d first returned. Tools and trees all carved up.

She breathed out heavily.

“Yes. I fully admit that. What we were doing was wrong. We came here uninvited and started taking things from your land. I completely understand why you’re angry. I would be, too. I am, in fact.” Her voice turned brittle. “I didn’t want this. None of us did. We were abducted by our own government for the mission. No one on Earth even knows what’s happening. It’s all secret, what they’re doing.” She paused, then quietly said, “I wish I knew what happened to them.”

“To whom?”

“To the other women like me. The women the military brought here. We’re all scientists; we all have different skills that were useful on the mission. But we were too low-ranking on Earth to have the clearance to know the details of the program before we were taken. None of us would have agreed to go anyway, knowing we were essentially invading other worlds. So, instead of asking us to volunteer, or training us, they took us against our will.”

“Why only women?”

Stone sky gods produced only male offspring, which necessitated us finding our mates on other worlds, among other peoples. But I did not believe the humans were this way – I’d thought many of the ones I’d killed were male.

“We have our theories,” she said darkly. She hesitated, then added, “We heard about one mission. To a different planet. The crew was killed and all the women were taken hostage by male aliens. We think that us all being female was on purpose. To maybe use us as leverage, somehow, if needed. To bargain with our bodies.”

My lip curled in disgust at that. If that was true, then I was doubly glad I’d killed so many of the ones with weapons, and only wished I had killed more.

Whether it was true, though, remained to be seen. I still could not tell if she was telling the truth about being a victim or trying to curry some sort of favour with me.

“I wish I could find them,” she sighed, sagging, tension ebbing from her body. “I don’t want to go back to being stuck on the ship against my will, but I just want to make sure my friends are OK.”

Even if I’d wanted to help her in that, I wouldn’t have been able to. I could open doors to other worlds but had to know which world to go to first, and I had no idea where her people’s machine had ended up. It was why I needed the council’s help to find out where Skalla was now, especially since Rúnwebbe would not tell me. They could use one of the relics of Heofonraed to locate people in the sprawling map of the cosmos. They could find Skalla. And her people’s ship.

But that didn’t matter now. The council wouldn’t let me anywhere near them while unmated, and Rúnwebbe’s prophecy forbade me from ever finding my fated bride.

But…

I straightened, the air feeling suddenly colder and sharper as an idea began to take shape inside me. I could not track down my true mate for fear of triggering her death, but the only way to access the Council of the Gods was as a mated male. But what if I married someone who wasn’t my true mate? There was no way to know for sure a male was mated. Not unless you caught him rutting his woman with his knot swollen for her and only her. Although, there was the lingering threat of mate-madness and star-darkness… But neither of those things had touched me yet. If I acted quickly enough, they might hold off long enough for me to join the council. I’d be able to learn what was going on in there and find out where Skalla was.

I didn’t have a bride, of course. But I did have one human female in my grasp who was just desperate enough to strike a bargain with me.

“There is one way we might find your friends,” I said, my words fast and tight. I lowered my head to speak directly against her hair. “I will require something of you first. But if you do it, and we succeed, I will not only assist you in finding them but also give you your freedom.”

Her spine went hard and straight against me. Her hands, which had been in her lap until now, curled around my forearm, her short blunt claws pressing into my skin.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, her breath quickening, and once again I detected that battling mixture of wariness and hope.

I expected that the wariness would win out this time, but I answered her without hesitation anyway, my words at once a question and a statement and a vow.

A question with only one answer.

A statement of fact.

And a vow that I would not be denied.

“Marry me.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Torrance

“Marry me.”

Everything went still. Even though the sontanna kept plodding along, and Wylfrael continued creating a path ahead for her, all movement seemed to cease. Even my own breathing stopped for a moment, which brought an irritated question of, “What is wrong with you now?” from behind me.

“What’s wrong…” I stammered, staring at the snow ahead. “What’s wrong is that you just… you just…”

“Told you to marry me. Yes.”

“Told me to!” Anger at his arrogance helped burn away the numbing shock. “Where I come from, you’re supposed to ask. You get down on one knee with a ring and you ask. You don’t tell someone to! God, why am I even trying to explain this? Let me off this horse – shit – sontanna right now!”

“The snow is deep here,” Wylfrael said, a deep rumble from his chest penetrating the thick fur of the cloak. “You cannot run.”

“I won’t try to run,” I snapped, pushing ineffectually at his forearm. “Just let me down!”

My body shook with anxious fury, and right now what I really wanted was to hit something, or maybe a certain winged someone, rather than run. But ultimately, I needed to have some distance from him. I couldn’t keep sitting here, in the solid embrace of his body, unable to see his face.

Wylfrael urged the sontanna to stop with a word. He dismounted easily, using the strength of his wings to lift himself down with savage grace. Then he turned and reached for me.

I resisted. I swung my leg around the sontanna’s other side so that my back was to Wylfrael. My stomach sank when I saw just how high up I was, but the bank of snow beside the sontanna created by Wylfrael’s telekinetic ploughing would provide a soft enough landing. I used to jump into snow piles all the time as a kid. It’s fine.

It turned out it was very much not fine. I didn’t hurt myself, but I did get fucking stuck. The sontanna was even taller than I’d realized from up here, and the snow much deeper than anticipated. I sank into it with the full force of my weight, completely stuck from ribcage to boots.

Thoughts of Wylfrael, and the absurd thing he’d just said, vanished. So did my childhood love for the snow, replaced with something urgent and animal and hunted. My heart pounded erratically as I tried to free myself. My vision narrowed into an unseeing tunnel of darkness, nausea rising at the memory I tried so hard not to think of. The memory of being trapped and terrified and –

The snow around me peeled away in thick sheets, like wool sheered from a sheep. The sudden lack of support made my watery knees buckle, but two hands caught me, hauling me upright. Wylfrael’s chest was at my back, warm and solid. I wanted to scratch him, pull away from him, but my body had other ideas. He was so warm, so much warmer than the snow. I trembled violently and slumped backwards against him.

“I could have let you fall just now, you know,” he murmured, deadly quiet, beside my ear. “Let you see just what would become of you without me.”

The only sound I made in response was the clattering of my teeth.

Wylfrael turned me in his arms, sliding his hands up to cup my face.

“You’re shaking,” he said. “Why?”

“C-c-cold,” I stuttered. It was at least partly true. My cloak was caked in snow from my jump into the bank, and it seemed like winter had entered my very bones. But I wouldn’t tell him that most of the shaking was from fear at the feeling of being trapped, suffocating in all that white.

Wylfrael observed me with grim silence. His thumbs brushed upwards on my cheeks, a roughly calloused but gentle heated stripe along my cold skin. Out here, the blue dots along his chest, arms, and wings glowed brighter, as did his eyes. There was an azure cast over everything. His hair was no longer white but the colour of cloud-washed Earth sky, his wings not simple black but charcoal and cobalt and ash. The shimmering blue glow dusted over his face just as the starlight spilled down, illuminating the harshly elegant lines of his bone structure, regal cheekbones and rugged jaw, all sterling and sapphire.

I tried to think of more violent words to describe him – gunmetal and the colour of drowning seas – but with something close to despair I realized that no matter what words I used, no matter what I thought of him, I could not escape the fact that he was beautiful. Beautiful and alien, powerful and cruel – the kind of male who would let me fall to my knees just to see what would become of me without him.

But he didn’t let you fall.

Even now, he held my face like he was worried he might break it.

One weak and reedy word crawled out of my throat.

“Why?”

There were many questions inside that single word. Why am I here with you? Why do you want to marry me? Why is your touch on my face nearly tender when this would all be so much easier if it hurt?

“I’ll get you warm,” he finally said, his hands withdrawing from the skimming exploration of my cheeks and jaw, “and then I’ll explain.”

I was too rattled and exhausted to protest when he scooped me up into his arms. I did manage a squeak when he launched into the air, though, holding me cradled against his chest as he soared through the sky. Beneath us, the sontanna ambled along the path back to its enclosure, looking like a toy on a white blanket. I squeezed my eyes shut, stomach rolling at the unexpected flight.

It was an efficient mode of transportation, I had to give Wylfrael that. Before I knew it, he’d landed. He didn’t lower me down to the ground, though, instead striding back into the kitchen with me in his arms.

“I can walk,” I said, forcing some strength into my limbs to push against him. He merely quirked a white brow at me in response and dryly replied that I was just as likely to crack my skull on the crystal as I was to take a proper step.

Instead, he used his unseen power to slide what looked like a leather-cushioned stool to a spot in front of the crackling fire. Once it was in place, he walked to it and deposited me without ceremony onto the cushion. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, head spinning. The ghostly feeling of fingers at my throat made me stiffen, but before I could react, my wet cloak had been whipped away, replaced by some sort of woolly brown fabric. I clutched it around myself, watching Wylfrael as he moved through the kitchen. I realized he was cooking – pouring something into a small pot that he then placed on a spot above the fire. It was a starkly unnatural sight. Like some magnificent predator had stalked in out of the woods and started performing domestic chores. Something strange, from a fairy tale. Bears with porridge and beds. A wolf in its prey’s house, wearing human clothing.

And yet, despite that, every move he made was also somehow natural. Like he knew this kitchen by heart, like he’d cooked in here before even though he clearly had staff to do it for him. He wiped up a small spill on the counter, and I stared, dumbstruck at the fact that this alien god would ever deign to clean up a mess he’d made.

But he did. And then, frowning as if he’d just thought of something, he levitated the knives from the counter up to a high, high shelf. One I wouldn’t be able to reach even if I stood on this stool.

“As my wife, you will have free range of the castle,” he said, returning to my side and grabbing the pot. “But I’d still prefer you didn’t stab anyone.”

“Your wife,” I said woodenly. I looked down at my hands. When he passed a stone cup into them, I took it on instinct, my fingers closing over the curve. Delicious warmth heated my palms, but I found I couldn’t lift the drink. I just peered downwards at the steaming, milky surface, as if it could give me some magic answer, like something spelled out in tea leaves.

“Do I have to make you drink it?” Wylfrael asked bluntly.

“No,” I said, already picturing the mess it would make if he grabbed my hair and brought the cup to my lips the way he had the first night when he’d shoved that spoon in my mouth.

I managed to do it by simultaneously lowering my head and raising my hands. I took a small sip, shuddered, then sighed. Luscious heat bloomed down my throat, warming me from the inside out. It was the sweetened milk drink that accompanied so many of the meals here, but there was something distinctive about it. It seemed that Wylfrael had a different recipe than the Sionnachans who I assumed normally prepared my meals. It still had that honey-like sweetness, but there was a biting spice, too. Not quite like ginger, but close. I took another sip, already feeling better than before.

Wylfrael watched me drink, leaning back against the crystal counter, his arms crossed, his eyes focused slits. As I worked my way through the drink, he began to speak.

“The only ones who can locate your friends are the stone sky gods at Heofonraed. They are called the Council of the Gods. I also require their assistance in another matter. But they will not hear petitions. In order for either of us to gain access to them and their resources, I will have to join the council and put forth both our cases.”

I lowered my cup, needing all my focus to follow the influx of information.

“In order to join the council,” he continued, speaking with a mundane, matter-of-fact style that made everything all the more surreal, “I require a bride.”

“Why?” I asked.

Wylfrael sighed tightly, as if already trying to determine how much effort to spend on explaining what was likely a long and convoluted story.

“Every stone sky god has one true mate. The one he starburns for and binds his life to. The one he’s meant to marry.”

“And… I’m yours?”

Wylfrael’s mouth flattened harshly, his response cold and cutting.

“No.”

“Then… What? Why? Go find your soulmate or whatever and marry her! Just let me go! I want nothing to do with this!” My head ached, and I took another sip of the fortifying drink.

“I cannot claim my true mate for my own reasons,” he said icily. “But as long as you play your part correctly, no one will know that you are not her.”

“So… it would be a sham marriage?”

Wylfrael’s wings twitched. He rose from where he’d been leaning against the counter and went to the door that led into the entrance hall, as if making sure no one was near. Apparently satisfied, he came back and crouched so that his face was at my eye level.

“Yes.”

The firelight played over the left side of his face while shadow painted the other. In that moment, he had two faces, one warm and distinct, one dark and lit only by the cold blue glow that came from within him. I wondered, sitting across from him, if I had two faces, too.

“So, I’ll pretend to be your wife so you can get into this council, and then you’ll help me track down the other women on the ship? And I’ll be free?”

The two split sides of Wylfrael’s face answered in unison.

“Precisely.”

The effect of the light was strange, making him slide in and out of my reality. I wanted to ask him to turn one way or the other, to either be fully in the shadow or fully in the light.

But instead, I asked him something I hadn’t even realized I’d been thinking about until it was out of my mouth.

“And you won’t require anything else of me? The things one would expect in a marriage. You won’t-”

“Love you?” He gave a mirthless, scraping laugh. But there was a discordant note in the sound. Like something in my question had unnerved him.

“I’m not asking about love,” I said archly. “That’s obviously not even part of the equation. I’m asking about physical relations.”

His nostrils flared slightly, but otherwise he went very still.

“I require only that you behave in such a way as to convince anyone around us that the bond is true between us. No one, not even the Sionnachans who are loyal to me, must know that this is false. This will mean some displays of affection, some touching, but likely nothing close to what you would deem relations.”

I tried to imagine it. Wylfrael touching me to imitate affection instead of power or control. What disturbed me was that I didn’t have to try very hard to picture it. I only had to call back to some of the odd, still moments we’d shared, when he’d stroked me tenderly, as if searching for something, sliding his thumb along my cheek or down my bruised arm.

Well, if more of that sort of touching was required, I supposed that wouldn’t be too terrible. He was already doing that. And it beat getting ordered around and grabbed.

A smile unfurled on my face as I realized just how much control a bargain like this could give me.

“You won’t be able to tell me what to do anymore,” I said. “You won’t be able to bark orders at me or confine me to my room. You can’t do anything that would make the Sionnachans think something is wrong between us. You’re supposed to – what is it? Starburn? So, you have to act like you’re in love with me.”

An elated lightness expanded in my chest. I wasn’t the only one who had to play a part in this ruse – so did he. And in doing so, he stripped himself of so much of his hold on me.

A muscle feathered in his cheek.

“I am aware.”

I decided not to get too smug, not to revel in this fact too obviously. I figured there was a good chance that if I annoyed him too much, he could just send the Sionnachans away and then he’d be able to treat me however he wanted all over this castle without a care for who saw.

“What kind of timeline are we working with? Can we go see this council tomorrow?” Now that I knew freedom, and my friends, were within reach, I couldn’t stand to stay here. But Wylfrael brought my hopes back down to the ground quickly.

“Tomorrow? Certainly not,” he scoffed. “I have to be sure you can succeed in your role before we attempt to go before the council at Heofonraed. Your first real test will be seventeen days hence, at the gathering of the gods.”

“Seventeen days? That long?” I asked, deflated. Almost three weeks as his fake wife, and we wouldn’t even see the council until after that.

Wylfrael gave me an odd look.

“You mortals always astound me with how you perceive time.”

“Yeah, well, when you don’t have much of it, you don’t want to waste it. Especially not with the wrong person.” I glared meaningfully back at him, but he merely smoothed a hand over his hair, unruffled.

“There are many things you do not understand that I must weigh in this,” Wylfrael said, lowering his hand. “Many things that I must balance. I cannot rush this – we must both be ready. But I also cannot wait too long. There are certain signs that could eventually appear and prove that I am not truly mated.” He looked down at his glowing arms and then back at me. “I also do not want to give Rúnwebbe too much of a chance to gather whispers about our plans.”

“Who’s Rúnwebbe?” I frowned, looking around the space, suddenly fighting the feeling we were being watched. “What do you mean by whispers – can she hear us? Is it someone in the castle?”

“That is not exactly how it works,” he said. “She cannot hear us, and no, she is not here.”

“Then how would she learn about our plan?”

“Every action, every word, every whisper of every living being sends out signatures of energy into the cosmos,” Wylfrael explained. “Rúnwebbe catches these echoes of energy in her web, and she constantly sorts through the threads, absorbing all that knowledge. But she has thousands of worlds’ worth of whispers to comb through every moment. She has to find where a whisper is woven to understand it, to learn what has happened somewhere out there. Even if her web catches whispers of what we’re doing, she won’t necessarily find out right away. And even then, she’d have to tell another stone sky god for it to even matter. Most stone sky gods go to her bearing gifts for their own purposes. I doubt any would go to her to press for information about my mate.”

His voice snagged slightly on the word “mate.” A fierce emotion bolted down his face, but it was gone in an instant.

“So, the webbing you put in my ear that allows me to understand you…”

“Yes,” Wylfrael confirmed. “It was from the web of her world. You should now understand anyone who ever speaks to you, no matter the language. As long as the language existed when that bit of webbing was torn away, that is.”

I shook my head slowly and reached up to touch my ear. What he was telling me was more incredible than anything I’d ever learned in my entire career. The fact that there was an alien being out there capable of sorting through every single happening in the universe without leaving her own planet was astonishing. It also proved that there were even more types of alien life out there, capable of things we couldn’t even hope to comprehend. I continued rubbing my ear, amazed and, frankly, fucking humbled, by the fact I would now be able to understand every single language spoken, not just the thousands of human ones out there, but alien ones too.

This was exactly the sort of thing that had led me into studying astrophysics. The desire to come up against the huge, sublime concepts shaping the universe.

I just never thought I’d end up marrying an alien god to get there…

I met Wylfrael’s gaze steadily.

“When you put the web in my ear, it hurt.”

He tensed, wings twitching, but I continued speaking, not wanting him to interrupt.

“I was angry. Really angry. I mean, I still am. About a lot of things. But, I guess I also want to say, ‘Thank you.’ You may have only given me the web to interrogate me and to make sure I understood all your commands, but even so…” I tapped my ear. “This is a gift. I’m grateful for it.”

Wylfrael looked surprised by my words. Then his face softened, which made me feel completely off-balance.

“You’ll be able to understand some animals, too.”

My eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

What he’d said seemed impossible – a miracle. Something I’d fantasized about as a child, a half-forgotten dream. A dream that quickly faded when I realized, “Oh, but the sontanna? I didn’t hear anything…”

“Sontanna are notoriously quiet creatures,” Wylfrael replied. “They communicate more by scent, and body language, than sound, which makes the webbing largely useless. It doesn’t work for all animals, only those intelligent enough to communicate distinct ideas using complex sounds.”

I nodded eagerly.

“Yes! We have animals capable of that on Earth. Dolphins, whales.” I couldn’t stop a disbelieving laugh from escaping my parted lips. “I can’t believe I’d be able to understand a dolphin now! I mean, if I ever saw one again, anyway.”

“It’s not the same as the way you and I understand each other now. You won’t usually hear long sentences, and of course, they won’t understand anything you say. But it’s possible to pick up certain words.” His mouth pulled into a grimace. “Most often, those words revolve around food. Or are variations of, ‘Get away from my nest.’”

This made me laugh again, harder this time. And then I laughed even more, gasping and giddy, when I considered just how absurd this whole situation had become. Wylfrael, my alien captor, wanted to marry me, and was now telling me I’d be able to hear animals talking to me? That, coupled with the image of Wylfrael striding powerfully through his forest only to be told off by some territorial, squawking mama bird had me doubling over, tears forming.

“Why are you suddenly laughing so much?” Wylfrael asked suspiciously as I wiped my streaming eyes. “Keep your wits about you. I can’t go presenting a half-mad human as my wife.”

My wife.

The laughter died instantly. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, knowing that what I was about to say would change everything.

“I accept this bargain. I’ll… I’ll marry you.” I placed my empty cup down on the floor, then stuck out my hand, ready for him to shake it like we’d just closed some sort of business deal.

Wylfrael reached forward and clasped my hand in his huge, warm one. Obviously, he didn’t know about shaking hands. Instead, he rose to his feet, pulling me along with him until we stood facing each other, our palms sealed together.

“Oh, my little human bride,” he murmured, his words sliding like cold satin down my spine as his eyes caught mine in a tunnel of blue fire. “You speak as if you ever had a choice.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Wylfrael

After escorting Torrance back to her chamber for the remainder of the night, I did not sleep. I paced the room, making plans. The first thing will be to tell the Sionnachans the glorious news, I thought with a grim smile. Their lord is engaged to be married.

As soon as dawn warmed the walls, I left the room, knowing Aiko and Shoshen would be awake. I headed for the kitchen, assuming they’d be there.

I was right. I heard Aiko’s trilling voice as I crossed the entry hall towards the kitchen.

“Where in the merciful snows of Sionnach have those knives gotten to?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t touched them.”

“Well, you’d best help me look, and quick!” I smiled at Aiko’s command of her younger brother. “How am I supposed to cut the lord’s bread without a knife?”

A note of anxiety entered her voice at that last part, which wiped away my smile. It bothered me that these young Sionnachans would be so worried about pleasing me, or not pleasing me. They didn’t know me well enough to realize that I cared little about things like whether my breakfast bread came pre-sliced.

I stiffened, wondering if, rather than not knowing me well enough, it was because they’d watched me with Torrance. Watched my anger towards her, the way I’d made her a prisoner when imprisonment was a concept almost completely foreign to them.

“Calm, Aiko,” I said, stepping into the warm, fragrant kitchen.

Shoshen and Aiko both spun at my voice, flattening their ears.

“Forgive me, my lord! I did not realize you were awake yet! Breakfast will be ready momentarily. I just need to find-”

“The knives?” I raised my hand, slowly bringing them down from the high shelf to the counter. “I apologize. I moved them last night and did not think to tell you. There was a… moment with the prisoner. I thought it better to move anything sharp out of her reach.”

Aiko’s green eyes went wide as stone saucers.

“You think she would have used them, my lord?” Aiko gasped. “On a person? I must admit, she’s been nothing but good to us, despite the circumstances. I brought her dinner last night and could understand her for the first time; she thanked me, and spoke kind words to me.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to caution Aiko, to tell her not to believe Torrance too much, that it was likely a show to gain their trust for some nefarious purpose. But I’d have to push down that sort of thinking now. I needed to prove to everyone that I loved Torrance, that I trusted her implicitly. That probably starts with the knives, I thought, eyeing them on the counter. If Torrance was to be my wife, I couldn’t hide kitchen objects from her like she was a child.

I thought of her face when I’d suggested she might hurt a Sionnachan. There had been instant shock and horror at my words, the kind not easily faked. No! she’d said. I’d never hurt Aiko and Shoshen! I thought also of her shining, gentle joy at being with the sontanna, and her hopeful excitement about being able to understand animals. It seemed there was maybe some true goodness in her after all.

I rather wish there wasn’t.

But at the very least, I did now think it was unlikely she’d hurt one of the Sionnachans. Her goodness aside, she seemed clever and at least somewhat reasonable. Now that she’d accepted our bargain, and her friends and freedom were at stake, she wouldn’t ruin it with something that wouldn’t help her situation, like using a knife on someone.

The knives stay there, then.

A new anxiety seemed to have entered the Sionnachans. I watched them closely as their gazes went from the knives to me and back again, their tails bushy with nervous energy.

“What is it?” I asked them.

“Well, my lord,” Aiko began uncertainly, her ears flattening, “I cannot imagine you were happy about Torrance – the prisoner – getting out and trying to use a knife for something. Is she… is she… still here?”

They think I killed her.

“Yes,” I said forcefully, feeling oddly dizzy all of a sudden. “She’s fine. She’s upstairs, and will require breakfast, as always.”

Aiko and Shoshen both relaxed visibly. This was more than just their Sionnachan abhorrence at the idea of killing another person. They’d grown to like Torrance. That irked me, but I reminded myself it was actually a good thing. It would make our ruse all the smoother going forward.

“Speaking of Torrance,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and firm, “she is no longer a prisoner.”

A bolt went through the siblings.

“My lord?” Shoshen asked, and Aiko’s face echoed his question.

I cleared my throat, trying to figure out exactly what sort of emotion to let through. Should I appear happy? Relaxed? Grave? Mates were a serious matter, after all. Blast. I talked about Torrance failing in her role, and I’m already floundering just trying to tell two Sionnachans!

I settled on a smooth, serious tone, as if I were merely touching on some necessary part of daily life, mentioning some bit of the castle that needed repair or the status of the weather outside.

“She is no longer a prisoner because she is my mate. We will marry.”

The siblings stared at me as if they hadn’t quite understood what I’d said. Finally, Aiko was the one who spoke first, a tentative smile touching her orange and white face.

“My lord! Congratulations to you both! A wedding, oh, that is cause for celebration indeed!” Something turned quiet and nostalgic in her voice. “We were always told, growing up, about your father Cynewylf’s great love for Sashkah. To think that you are now following in his footsteps, finding your fated bride in the very same place – on Sionnach!”

I, too, had noticed the parallels. But the differences were more worthy of note. My parents had starburned for each other. They had been true mates and had always set before me the example of what a husband and wife should be. Loving. Respectful. Diligently devoted to one another and to their child.

My wings tightened, and with no small amount of pain, I thrust the memories of their love away. I couldn’t think about them now – it made me feel too much like I was doing something wrong. That this sham of a marriage in the house they’d built was some sort of dishonour to them. And it reminded me too much of what I’d lost. Reminded me I’d never have what they’d had.

“Thank you,” I said, my tone clipped. I decided I’d not bother trying to look happy about anything right now. I’d just plough forward with the things that needed to be done. Leave the pain abandoned at the back of my mind. “She will no longer be confined to any chamber. Whatever she needs or asks for will be attended to as if I had asked myself.”

“Of course, my lord,” Shoshen and Aiko said in unison.

“She will need new clothing, not just simple garments made from those bits of plain fabric I brought back from Hoshta’s. An entire wardrobe befitting the wife of a stone sky god,” I said, beginning to pace the room, taking refuge in the practical making of plans. It helped distance me from the tangle of uncomfortable feelings inside me. “And, of course, she will sleep with me, in my old chamber in the Eve Tower.”

Suddenly, making plans no longer felt like refuge but like danger. She will sleep with me. Of course, she’d have to stay in my room as my wife. But the reality of that was beginning to sink down upon me, like a bird landing on me and digging in hot talons. Torrance in my chamber. Torrance in my bed…

Aiko and Shoshen closed and opened their fists, uttering words of acquiescence. Luckily, they accepted everything I was telling them without question. They’d never met me before a few days ago, and other than childhood stories, they knew little of my parents. Despite my sudden misgivings, they did not doubt anything. But I’d have to get better at this. A stone sky god, who knew the reality of starburning much more deeply than they did, would cast a keener, more critical eye over our union. Seventeen days…

That long? Torrance had asked miserably.

I now worried it wasn’t long enough.

Once again, the need for distance came over me. If I could just fly and breathe in the cold air, I’d be able to settle myself.

“I will go to Hoshta’s in the village,” I said suddenly. “Right now. I will return tonight.” I reminded myself to bring coin this time, and lots of it. To settle the previous account and to buy new fabric for my bride. There was a dark, ticking point of pleasure at the idea, somewhere deep in my guts. I ignored it and tried to tell myself it was simply the satisfaction of finding a way to play my part. It would be expected that I lavish her with gifts, and buying a bunch of silk and leather was much easier than contemplating the reality of Torrance in my bed.

My satchel was filled to bursting with coins when I took off for the village. It was enough to buy out Hoshta’s entire blasted store, and I knew I’d spend it all. I could already anticipate the whispers spreading through the village, the Sionnachans’ reactions to the extravagance.

But Lord Wylfrael’s bride was here at last. And she would have nothing less than everything.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Torrance

Asound at the door woke me. I groaned, rolling over, warm light seeping through my eyelids.

I wonder how late it is…

I opened my eyes, squinting in the orange-pink brightness.

The sound at the door returned, a soft tapping sound followed by a hushed, “My lady? Are you awake?”

My lady?

I sat bolt upright, heart pounding as last night’s events played in my head, a vicious loop like a movie fast forward and rewound. I was engaged. Fake engaged. To a proud and demanding alien god.

He already told them.

Why else would Aiko knock now, when she’d always entered unbidden before? And she was calling me my lady…

I’d have to nip that right in the bud.

“Come in!” I called shakily. I smoothed my hair, a panicky, half-asleep gesture, as if my bedhead would somehow detract from the image that I was truly Wylfrael’s mate. I swallowed hard, telling myself that the bargain began right now. I had to succeed at this. I had to.

Aiko entered with a tray full of food. She smiled, something she’d done before, but then flattened her ears, something she hadn’t. At least, not to me. I’d noticed her do it in front of Wylfrael, though.

“Good morning, my lady,” she said, bringing in the tray and setting it down.

“Oh, please, don’t call me, ‘my lady,’” I said. I didn’t care if that was supposed to be part of the illusion of our marriage – I couldn’t stand it. And I was from a whole other planet, after all. Wanting to be on equal footing with the Sionnachans could just be considered one of my human quirks.

“Oh! If my lady wishes! Ah, I apologize, miss, ma’am, my…”

“Just call me Torrance, please,” I said. “Thank you so much for the food!”

I slid out of the bed, still an incredibly awkward task because of the height of the furniture. Aiko observed my movements, then delicately said, “I’ll be sure that the lord’s chamber – I mean, your chamber – will have a stool beside the bed.”

“The lord’s chamber?” I froze, halfway between the bed and the table where Aiko stood.

Aiko’s fur, tinted pink in the room’s light, shifted as she cocked her head at me quizzically.

Oh, no. Had I already messed up?

“Ah, yes! Wylfrael’s chamber. My chamber. Yes. Of course.” I grinned widely, babbling and nodding. “Yes, thank you. A stool. That would be fine. Thanks. Yes.”

Aiko smiled, and I breathed an internal sigh of relief. She’d only just started to understand me last night, no doubt due to more of that webbing, and she didn’t know my human speech patterns well enough to know that I sounded like a fucking idiot right now.

The bastard could have warned me, I thought, my smile turning hard. I assumed he’d be in here first thing this morning, ready to coach me and hammer out all the details of this new arrangement. But instead, he’d already gone ahead and made all these changes and decisions – including moving me into his room! – without even telling me.

We are going to have a talk when he gets back, I vowed as I seated myself in one of the huge chairs at the table. The Sionnachans may call him lord, but I won’t. I will have my say in how this all plays out.

Although he’d already set the expectation with Aiko and the others that we’d be sharing a chamber, and I’d just confirmed it, so I didn’t think I’d have much say on that particular matter now. Well, he can sleep on the fucking floor, then.

I must have been scowling, because Aiko’s voice turned tremulous with something that sounded like distress.

“Is the breakfast not to your liking, my – Torrance? I can make you something else right away!”

OK, first I need to have a talk with Aiko.

“The breakfast is great, thank you,” I said, relaxing my face. “Would you sit down with me for a moment?”

Aiko hesitated, then did so. It was much easier for her tall frame to fold itself into the chair than it had been for me.

“Aiko, I want to make something clear right now. I may be about to-” Oh God, oh my fucking God, “-marry Wylfrael, and he may be a lord of some kind, but that’s not me. That’s not how I grew up. You don’t have to worry about pleasing me or anything like that. In fact, if you wanted, we could be something more like friends.”

Aiko’s tail fluffed behind her, and her eyes got big.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “Not if that’s weird for you.” Shit. Maybe that was inappropriate. Was I her boss now? But then again, she’d helped Wylfrael when I was a prisoner, so who the hell was to say what was appropriate now?

“No, that would… that would be lovely, thank you,” Aiko said, smiling. It got bigger, turning into a grin with sharp little teeth. “You don’t know how dreadful it’s been around here with only my father and brother for company for so long! We haven’t had another woman here since Osha left, and that was back when I was a child.”

“What about your mother?” I asked.

“She died when I was very young. Shoshen barely remembers her. But I do.”

My throat got hot.

“Me too,” I said thickly. “Mine died when I was just a baby. It was just my dad and me until… well, until very recently. Did you say your father is here?”

“Yes,” she said. “You have not met him. His name is Ashken.”

“Well, I look forward to meeting him then.” I pursed my lips, studying her, wondering how long the three of them had been alone here. “So, how does this work, exactly? You’re employed by Wylfrael? Are the Sionnachans tenants on his land?” His title of lord made me think of historical British lords who had vast lands and earned income from renting the farmland.

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. Wylfrael owns this castle, and the surrounding forests, because they belonged to his mother’s family. But no Sionnachans live on his land. Well, besides the three of us now. And yes, we are employed here. We are paid by the estate’s coffers.”

“OK… But how does Wylfrael have so much money then? Where did it come from?” If he wasn’t a lord in the sense I was used to, then how did he pay these three? I certainly hadn’t seen him doing anything that looked remotely like work, unless you considered bossing me around to be work. Which he probably did.

Aiko gave me an odd look.

“You… Forgive me, Torrance, but you really know very little of the stone sky gods.”

“Please! Enlighten me! I feel like I have no idea what’s going on half the time!”

“I… I should not. That should be something your husband tells you. It’s his history.”

I felt my expression sour. Wylfrael hadn’t even told me that he was putting me in his room, who knew how forthcoming he’d be about all this?

“Just tell me about Sionnachan history, then. Tell me about the things that have happened on this estate. That should be OK, right? You’re not telling me anything secret.”

“I suppose that would be alright. You do live here now, too.” She looked so happy at those last words that I felt a pang of guilt about the fact that if I had my way, and our plan worked out, I wouldn’t be here for long.

“Many generations ago, a stone sky god appeared in our sky,” Aiko began.

“Hold on. Sorry to interrupt, but what do you mean, appeared?” I leaned forward, my elbows on the table, as I gazed intently at her.

“He opened a sky door to Sionnach. We knew nothing of the stone sky gods before then.”

Holy fucking shit.

“Are you telling me,” I said slowly, “that he came here, flew here, from another planet?”

“Yes, exactly. That’s one of the stone sky gods’ many powers.”

I kept my mouth shut, but barely. I’d seen Wylfrael emerge from the sky myself, but I assumed he’d come from somewhere nearby. Not another fucking planet!

But then again, how would he have visited Rúnwebbe? She was on a different planet, too…

“What’s a sky door? How do they create them? They don’t even wear suits or helmets or anything?!”

“Ah, I’m sorry, I don’t know the answers to these things. Would they not be better explained by Lord Wylfrael?”

Impatience made me want to press her, but I didn’t. But my dear future husband better be ready for some very serious questions from this astrophysicist. Starting with, what the actual fuck?

“OK. Sorry. Please go on,” I said.

Aiko closed and opened her fists in a gesture I was starting to realize was something akin to a human nodding “Yes.”

“This stone sky god was Lord Cynewylf. He found his fated bride here, a Sionnachan woman named Sashkah. They married and had Lord Wylfrael.”

“So that’s why Wylfrael has some Sionnachan features. His mother,” I said.

“Yes,” Aiko confirmed. “The three of them lived here together until the Lord and Lady died.”

“What happened?” I asked, feeling a twinge of unwanted empathy for Wylfrael that he’d lost both his parents, just as I had.

“Lady Sashkah simply grew old. She passed of natural causes.”

“And Wylfrael’s father? I thought the stone sky gods were immortal?”

Aiko gave me another odd look. She hesitated, then seemed to decide to continue with what she wanted to say.

“Not the mated ones.”

She must have seen the confusion on my face. Her fingers twined against each other fretfully. “This really is something you should hear from the lord, but… but since it is something that affects you and your life together, and it is common knowledge among any familiar with the stone sky gods, I will explain as best I can.” She took a small breath, as if organizing her thoughts.

“The stone sky gods are immortal creatures. They can travel between worlds and move materials with nothing but their minds. But their immortality ceases once they claim their fated bride. A stone sky god’s lifespan becomes inextricably entwined with his mate’s, and he dies the moment she does.”

No wonder Wylfrael doesn’t want to find his true mate and needs to use me instead, I brooded. The bastard wants to hold onto his immortal life!

“What happens if two stone sky gods marry each other? Do they just both stay immortal?” I asked.

“Oh, no. Stone sky gods are all male, and they only produce male offspring. They must find their brides on other worlds.”

I mulled over her words, taking a tentative sip of the sweetened milk drink. It was missing that edge of spice from Wylfrael’s late-night recipe, and I hated to admit I liked his version just a little better than this one. As I drank more, Aiko continued speaking.

“Anyway, Lord Cynewylf found Sashkah here and married her, but he’d already lived many generations before then. Untold mortal lifetimes to engage in trade and collect wealth from different worlds. This was all passed down to Lord Wylfrael, and has sustained the estate in the lord’s absence.”

“His absence?” Right. He obviously hadn’t been here when we’d arrived in our ship. So, when he’d appeared out of the sky, he’d been gone a while, then. “Was he off trading or something, like his father used to do?”

“Oh, no. No, he was in battle. Or, recovering from it, from what I understand. His cousin, Lord Skallagrim, went mate-mad and crashed through the sky into our world. Lord Wylfrael fought him to protect my ancestors and dragged him through a sky door and away from here. We have had no news of him since then. Most Sionnachans assumed that he was dead.”

So, he can be killed, then. It’s just extremely difficult.

“Wait a second,” I said, my mind going back to a detail I hadn’t fully absorbed when Aiko had first said it. “He protected your ancestors? How long was he gone for?”

How long has my future husband been alive?

“He has been gone for many Sionnachan generations. I had never seen him before his return a few days ago, and neither had my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and so on. But we were always taught that the great Lord Wylfrael might return someday. We have not neglected our duties, even for a moment, in case he came back. Which he now has. With a bride of his own, no less!”

I had even more questions than before, but I held them back, trying to sort through all the information Aiko had already shared with me. I made mental notes of subjects to come back to when I had a clearer head, things to try to get out of Wylfrael if he’d tell me. Like what going “mate-mad” was, and what had happened with this Skallagrim character. And just how the hell he travelled across the cosmos without any kind of technology or protection or anything that made sense to my human scientist brain.

“Thank you for telling me all this, Aiko,” I finally said, smiling, feeling tired already even though my day had just begun. “I imagine I’ll have a lot of questions as I get used to things here.”

“Of course, my – Torrance. And I will have questions for you, too. Especially once we begin planning the wedding.”

Oh, God.

“Is there much to plan?” I asked with a sudden feeling of dread. “What’s involved with a stone sky ceremony?” I kind of figured it would be pretty simple. Like signing a business contract or something.

“I don’t believe there is such a thing as a stone sky wedding,” she replied. “Stone sky gods adhere to the cultural traditions of their bride’s people in marriage ceremonies. At least, that’s what Lord Cynewylf did. So that means…”

I choked on my next sip of milk, coughing violently when Aiko cheerily proclaimed, “We’ll be planning the first human wedding in Sionnachan history!”

Jesus fucking Christ.

A human wedding. Me, in a white dress, walking down the aisle to him. Wylfrael, my groom. Now that the image was in my mind, I couldn’t get it out. He stood there inside my head like he owned the place, vivid and severe in a luxurious, perfectly tailored black suit, his white shirt crisp, his tie a pale fire-blue to match his eyes.

In my mind, he held out a hand for me. His lips parted, and he said words that I didn’t have to imagine because I remembered them. Words he’d said to me just last night. Words that represented my salvation and my greatest trial.

Marry me.

His hand was still there. Open, waiting, like a trap.

God help me, I took it.

Oh, my little human bride. As if you ever had a choice.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Torrance

After breakfast – which was very good, some kind of fruit preserve slathered on warm, red bread – Aiko asked if I was ready to move my things into the lord’s chamber in the Eve Tower. I scoffed at her mention of my “things,” as if I had a whole suitcase of human essentials to unpack in the new space. All that was in here with me now were my boots, socks, and the clothes on my back. Plus, the toothbrush they’d given me. Even my snowsuit was in Wylfrael’s room, probably still in a heap where he’d left it.

“This is about it,” I said gesturing vaguely to myself, my hand swinging up and down from head to toe. “Oh, I did have a cloak last night, though…”

“Oh, yes! I saw it in the kitchen this morning. It was hanging near the fire to dry. I suppose Lord Wylfrael did that if you know nothing about it.”

I was disconcerted, just the way I’d been when he’d started making the milk drink in the kitchen for me. I hadn’t seen him hang the cloak up to dry, but I wondered about the motivation behind it. I assumed he would have been the kind of proud, impetuous sort to leave it wet in a pile on the floor. Did he not want to leave a mess for Aiko and Shoshen to clean up?

Or did he not want it to be damp and cold the next time I wore it?

He’s probably just a control freak. So meticulous he can’t stand something out of place in his kitchen…

“I’d rather have a tour of the castle right now, actually, instead of going to the Eve Tower room,” I told Aiko. “If that’s alright,” I added. For some reason, I felt a little shy about asking, like I shouldn’t be doing it and that Wylfrael was going to come back and scold me for it. Going from a prisoner to the lady of this castle was giving me whiplash.

But Aiko did that open-close thing with her hands, agreeing happily, and after a quick brush of my teeth, we were off.

We took the stairs down through the tower instead of going through the adjoining tunnel. As we walked, Aiko chattered enthusiastically about the castle, about the marvel of creating it, carving it out of standing trees when Sionnachans usually used crystal slabs or bricks to construct buildings.

“That was Lord Cynewylf’s idea,” she said. “He was said to have loved the natural state of Sionnach and wanted the castle to fit in with the landscape. He used much of his own power to carve out the insides, shaping it into the design he and Sashkah desired.”

I tried to imagine growing up in a place like this, as Wylfrael had. Although I couldn’t imagine someone as intense as he was ever really being a child. There was a luxurious beauty in every chamber Aiko showed me, sitting rooms and storage rooms alike gleaming with jewelled light coming through the crystal walls.

It took us all morning just to get through the tower I’d been staying in, which I learned was called the Dawn Tower. I also learned that Aiko had an exceptionally good memory for the history of this place. “You’re a great tour guide,” I told her as we finally made it to the ground floor of the Dawn Tower.

“Thank you,” she said warmly, obviously pleased by the compliment. “As the castle’s Mistress of Affairs, it is my duty to know everything about the property.”

I could see plainly that Aiko was proud of her role here, and it eased some of the weirdness I felt about everything. It would have been a whole lot harder to work together with Wylfrael if his staff seemed unhappy, or he mistreated them. Nope, seems like he’s only an asshole to me.

We took a different tunnel – the one on the ground, this time – to the centre tower. The tunnel down here had the same intricate, beautifully arranged crystal, but barely any light came through due to the drifts of snow outside. My breathing came a little quicker as the sudden image of collapse, of rushing, roaring, burying snow chilled me to my core.

I thought the tunnel on the ground would be less unnerving than the one way up in the air, but apparently not.

I wondered, briefly, what it would be like to walk through this tunnel in the spring or summer, then remembered that, if all went to plan, I wouldn’t be here to find out. Aiko seemed oblivious to the way I eyed the walls warily, continuing to fill the air with facts about this place as we walked. I learned that there were three high-up, suspended tunnels connecting the three towers to each other in a triangle shape, but there were only two tunnels on the ground, more of a V-shaped line connecting the three towers. That made sense, as when we’d gone out the back door of the centre Day Tower, there hadn’t been a tunnel ahead, blocking access to the barn and forest beyond.

After passing through the tunnel into the Day Tower, we had a brief lunch in the kitchen, meeting up with Shoshen, who was just coming in from his chores outside. We had the same awkward moment of him trying to address me as “My lady,” and me basically begging him not to. He accepted the informality of the relationship much more quickly than Aiko had, and I snickered at the frown she shot him as he so instantly agreed to call me Torrance.

He’s definitely the younger brother.

“Didn’t even have to shovel a path to the sontanna’s enclosure and the barn this morning!” Shoshen said, grabbing a chunk of bread and leaning against the counter, sounding half-confused and half-grateful. “I suppose that was Lord Wylfrael’s doing. Can’t think of anyone else who could have made such a wide, smooth path in snow that deep. It’s incredible.”

There was a note of awe in his words, and for the first time, I fully understood the gravity of the situation from the Sionnachan point of view. They’d been taking care of this castle, generation after generation, waiting for Wylfrael to return. He must have become like a legend to them, a mystical figure of ancient history with extraordinary power. And now, they were seeing first-hand that his powers were real. That their grandparents’ bedtime stories about him were actually true.

I chewed my bread, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. I decided not to tell them that the reason he’d cleared all that snow was so I could walk through it, and so that we could have a midnight sontanna ride that turned into a fucking marriage proposal.

After lunch, Aiko and I continued our tour through the Day Tower. This tower, Aiko told me, was the largest – both the tallest and the widest at the base. Many of its rooms were devoted to practical uses. Rooms for drying herbs and meat, the room where laundry was done, a room with what looked like weaving and sewing materials. It also had the servants’ quarters, which I hurriedly told Aiko she didn’t need to show me, not wanting to invade her privacy.

“Most of those rooms are unused, now,” she said. “The castle used to have a much larger staff.”

We continued upwards. My legs were beginning to get shaky, but I wanted to see more. Now that I was allowed to move freely through this place, I was more curious than afraid. The incredible nature of what I was doing struck me, several times, as we climbed the stairs. I was walking through a real-life, honest-to-goodness alien dwelling. Seeing an otherworldly culture – in fact, the blending of two cultures, stone sky and Sionnachan – up close and personal. It was fascinating, and despite the violence of how I’d ended up here, I found myself touched, tenderly grateful, to Aiko for sharing all of this with me.

Our tour ended rather abruptly, not because I got too tired to keep going (although my legs were rubbery by then) but because I found a room I didn’t want to leave.

“This is the library,” Aiko told me as we entered. “Oh, Father! Good! You’re here.”

I could barely take in the expansive sprawl of the room before I saw the man Aiko had spoken to. I would have known he was related to Aiko and Shoshen even if she hadn’t told me – he had the same orange colouring, though his was a little duller. His tall form leaned on a cane when he rose from where he’d been sitting.

He advanced towards us, and we met him halfway through the large room.

“Hello, hello!” He greeted us warmly. “This must be our new lady of the house!” He said it with so much obvious pleasure that I almost felt guilty when I asked him to just call me Torrance.

“Torrance, then,” he said easily. I was surprised, and grateful, that he’d agreed so quickly. I’d worried that he would be stuck in his ways, older and stricter about rules than his children. But he was much more easygoing than I’d expected. Like he was just so happy about the way things were turning out, he didn’t care what he had to call me.

“What do you think of the estate so far?” he asked, a keenness entering his eyes, as if very interested in my answer.

I hesitated, unsure how to phrase what I was feeling, how to describe the gorgeous place they called home that was both a palace and a prison.

“It’s… Well, it’s beautiful,” I said, settling on something that was objectively true. “And huge! I’m impressed only three of you have taken such good care of everything.”

Aiko’s tail fluttered in something that seemed like shy pleasure, and Ashken grinned.

“Of course, Torrance, of course! We always expected Lord Wylfrael to return. We have been diligent, and happily so, in our duty to the castle in his absence. And, of course, now that you are here, you may direct us in whichever changes you wish to make. So that you may feel at home here.”

His kindness made my throat feel like a rock was lodged in it.

So that you may feel at home here.

There was no more home for me now. I’d been taken from Earth, from the doorstep of the house that held my whole heart. My parents were gone, and even if I got out of here, I wouldn’t be safe on Earth again. Not with what I knew, what I’d seen.

The best shot I have at a home now is finding the other human women. Making sure they’re safe, and figuring out how we’ll all survive without being under the thumb of the ship’s military crew…

“So, tell me about the library, Ashken!” I said, my voice high and sounding overly cheery as I changed the subject.

“Of course, of course!” he said, turning and brandishing his silver crystal cane around the space. My gaze followed the sweep of the carved silver stick.

It was a truly massive room. It was about halfway up the Day Tower, and unlike other lower, wider floors of the house which were broken up into more than one chamber, the library dominated the entire floor. The ceiling was also much higher than most of the other floors, and unlike the tower I’d been staying in, this one was green, giving everything a rich verdant hue. A massive fire rock blazed in the centre of the room, and it took me a moment to realize it was encased in a sort of crystal grate which hardened into a chimney that arched up towards the ceiling. The silvery crystal was so thin around the fire that it was nearly invisible, allowing the golden-orange light to disperse around the space. Arranged in a circle around the fire were cushions, large crystal chairs, and fur throws.

Apart from the fire and the furniture, though, there wasn’t much more I recognized in the room. There weren’t bookshelves like a human library. Instead, the entire circular perimeter of the room had massive rectangular frames jutting out from the walls, with what looked like fabric stretched over the frames. Some of the rectangles were pressed close together, obscuring the fabric on them, others were splayed wider apart. It reminded me of rug stores back home, where the rugs were stretched and suspended in transparent plastic rectangles that you had to turn on the walls like pages of a book. Or, like how posters were displayed and sold in shops, if posters were more than ten feet tall.

“This is amazing!” I said, completely fascinated. If Orla were here, she would lose her fucking mind. Orla was our resident linguist among the kidnapped women on the ship. I wondered grimly if she would have seen this anyway, had Wylfrael not returned when he did. If we would have found and taken over this property and hurt the Sionnachans.

Knowing humans, probably.

But that reminded me…

“Why is this place invisible?” I blurted, distracted from the library. “Is that another one of Wylfrael’s powers?”

“Oh, no,” Ashken said. “Lord Cynewylf had trading relationships with the warlords of Riverdark. A mage who owed him a favour cast that protective spell over the property so that only those who knew the correct phrase could find it and enter. Oh, I rather suppose I should tell you, if you do not know it already. The word is mirreth. It’s the Riverdark word for home.”

Ashken needn’t have translated it for me. In the bizarre way of the webbing, I both heard the phonetic sounds of the word and instantly understood it. I really can understand any language…

“So, the warlords of Riverdark… Who are they? Stone sky gods?”

“No, no,” Ashken said. “They are a completely separate people. Although, there may be a stone sky god who is half Riverdark out there. But the warlords of Riverdark are mortal. They are mages, and one of the few races who can travel between worlds.”

“One of the few? How many have achieved space travel?” I asked. My voice had grown intense, my hands curling tightly into fists. But I couldn’t help it. It seemed that every moment I spent here, I learned something completely life-altering. I’d spent my entire career dreaming about space travel to places beyond the moon, not even knowing that humans had already achieved it in a secret program. Now, I was finding out there were other beings apart from the stone sky gods who could do so?

“As far as we know, only four races can travel between worlds,” said Ashken. “The stone sky gods, the warlords of Riverdark, the Tvarvatra, and now your kind.”

“Incredible,” I whispered. “Do they use ships – machines – like humans?”

“Only the Tvarvatra. The warlords of Riverdark have enchanted creatures who can travel between stars.”

“Creatures?” I gasped. “Like, animals that can fly through space?”

“I do not know many of the details, but I believe the creatures crawl rather than fly.”

They… What?

OK, I would definitely have to ask Wylfrael about that, too. How would that even work? Crawling through space? There was nothing to crawl on!

All I wanted now was to keep grilling Ashken about whatever he knew of these other aliens and their space travel, but I could tell that he was dying to show off the library, and I wanted to learn about that, too. I nodded and smiled in encouragement, and he launched into a tour of the space.

He and Aiko shared a talent for giving tours. Though he was clearly aging, his voice was strong and his mind most definitely sharp. He rattled off facts with the detailed precision of an encyclopedia and the enthusiasm of a young professor. As if having heard this speech many times before, Aiko said something about starting dinner preparations and disappeared.

Ashken leafed through the massive frames along the wall, like pages in a binder, explaining the Sionnachan writing system. Stretched in the large frames weren’t sheets of paper, but giant rectangles of pale silk. Instead of words written or painted on, the silk was embroidered. Unfortunately, the amazing powers of the translator in my head did nothing for written communications, and the threads looked like a jumble of little lines with no discernible patterns, broken up with the occasional sparkling bead. I decided I would learn how to read it, then remembered with something that felt a lot like disappointment that I probably wouldn’t be here long enough to do so.

And the time I do spend here will be dominated by Wylfrael, I’m sure.

“Where is Lord Wylfrael?” I asked Ashken. We’d moved on from the big frames on the wall that Ashken explained were archives and historical data, and he was now showing me much smaller rolls of embroidered silk – Sionnachan poetry and even some stories of stone sky god history that had been recorded by previous staff members.

“I believe the lord has travelled into one of the nearby villages today.”

I nodded, then blurted, “Doesn’t it feel weird to call him a god?”

Ashken cocked his head the same direction he leaned on his cane, giving him the appearance of a long, fluffy, orange reed blown sideways in the wind.

“No. We have our own gods, of course. There is Nacha, the ancient creator who moulded Sionnach from a ball of snow, for example.”

“Well, right! Exactly! Gods are supposed to create things, right? Where I come from, people pray to them. They’re supposed to help people.” I decided not to mention that the gods from some pantheons were as likely to be capricious or violent towards humans as they were benevolent. Looking at you, Greece.

“The stone sky gods perform a similar function,” Ashken said. “At least, they have in our world. They cannot hear prayers spoken from afar, but I know of many, many instances, too many to relay, where Cynewylf or Wylfrael used their immense power for the good of Sionnachans.”

“Really?” I asked, honestly shocked by this. All I’d seen Wylfrael do was stomp around this castle so far.

“Oh, yes,” Ashken said earnestly. “You are marrying an extraordinary being, Torrance. Why, I cannot even count the number of things he’s done worth noting. There was the time he saved an entire village from an avalanche, standing between them and the mountain’s rage, holding back the onslaught with nothing but his own raised hands. There was the merchant, whose sled went through an area of too-thin ice. Not only did Lord Wylfrael save the Sionnachan man, but he also saved the two sontanna, and then dove to the bottom of the ice-cold lake to collect the sled and all the merchant’s wares from the bottom so that his livelihood, as well as his life, was saved. There was the child, what was his name… Ohko! Yes, Ohko, who was separated from his hunting hound and got lost during a terrible snowstorm. The Sionnachan search parties could not find him, his tracks completely erased by the falling snow and the wind. But Wylfrael used his power to scrape snow away from every spot on that mountain, never faltering, never tiring. Two entire days and nights of flying and moving vast amounts of snow, long after the storm ended, until Ohko was found, cold, and very hungry, but alive, in a cave whose entrance was almost completely hidden by large drifts. There is even more than that!”

He saved Tommy from a well, pulled a kitten out of a tree… Seriously, was there any good deed this guy hadn’t done? No wonder the Sionnachans were so loyal to him. It wasn’t just out of fear of his abilities, but apparently out of love. Or maybe some combination of both.

I tried to keep a placid look on my face. This was my future husband Ashken was telling me about, and I was supposed to love him, too. Even more than the Sionnachans did.

“Having a history lesson, are you, bride?”

Ashken and I both spun towards the door. Ashken flattened his ears.

“Welcome home, my lord! Welcome home!”

The old man seemed genuinely happy that Wylfrael was back, which only added to the idea that the Sionnachans really did adore him. I need to look just as excited.

I beamed at Wylfrael, and echoed Ashken’s greeting of, “Welcome home!”

Wylfrael looked at me in astonishment, and my smile took on a slightly wicked slant. See? I can play the good little wife.

He cleared his throat, brows pinching downward for a moment before he smoothed his expression into something that could maybe, very generously, be called pleasant.

This guy said I would have to play my part well, but so far I’m doing way better than him!

This excited me. Made me feel powerful. I was, for once, more in control than Wylfrael. I wanted to hold onto that power. To make Wylfrael see I wasn’t stupid, wasn’t weak, wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

I sauntered over to him, clasping my hands in front of me as if I were completely entranced by what was before me. Like I was praying to the god the Sionnachans considered him to be.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I breathed.

Wylfrael’s nostrils flared, his gaze intensifying with some unnamed emotion.

I halted, standing very, very close to him. I stopped just short of touching him, deciding I wasn’t quite that brave yet, and gazed up at him with cavity-inducing sweetness from beneath my lashes.

His jaw worked, his eyes a bright storm. He didn’t seem capable of speaking at the moment, which would have made me burst into laughter if Ashken weren’t here.

Torrance one, Wylfrael zero.

“The lord is so taken with his bride-to-be that he cannot even speak!” Ashken said happily from nearby. “Ah, my lord, I always heard it was the same with your own father. That he’d grow silent and look at Sashkah just like that.”

My smile turned pinched.

Well, shit. He was actually convincing Ashken with this brooding, silent treatment? I had to turn into a simpering idiot to hold up my end of things, but all he had to do was glare at me?

Whatever. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of honouring our agreement. I’d be the most obnoxiously loving human this alien god ever could have imagined.

My annoyance turning into courage, I reached forward, deciding to touch him after all. He was dressed in his usual fashion, with black boots, tight leather trousers, and a dark leather vest. I drew my fingertips gently, like a grazing breath, down the bare strip of skin on his chest that showed between the two sides of his vest. When I got lower, reaching his stomach, his abdominal muscles clenched. Something in my own stomach coiled in response.

Wylfrael’s hand snapped up to grip my wrist. I froze, wrenching my gaze upward in questioning anger. Don’t you fucking dare ruin the illusion of this. I’m only just getting started.

Still, he didn’t speak. He didn’t drop my hand either. Instead, he raised it to his mouth. I thought he was maybe about to plant some kind of chaste, chivalrous kiss on my knuckles, but my breath left my lungs in a hot sigh when instead, he turned it over and brushed his lips over my palm.

Whatever had been already growing warm and tight in my stomach strengthened, my entire core squeezing at the irritatingly exquisite sensation of Wylfrael’s mouth on my palm. He let his eyes fall closed, and I gawked at his face as he began to kiss along my screaming skin. He reached my sensitive inner wrist, and I let out a shameful peep of a sound when the kiss grew wet, his tongue sliding downward in a heated, silky stripe.

At the sound I made, Wylfrael’s eyes snapped open. There was something new in his gaze, something dark and savage, something that made my nipples prickle and my heartrate skyrocket. His mouth was open against my wrist, fangs grazing my skin, a reminder that he could bite down, that he could crush me if he wanted to.

But he couldn’t. Not anymore. Not when he was supposed to love me. Not when he needed me.

Heat flooding my cheeks, I refused to pull away. We were frozen in a tableau, each of us testing the other. His mouth, open against my wrist, his eyes on mine. Trying to steady my suddenly harsh breathing, I held his gaze in silent challenge.

He started to suck. And when a gush of arousal dampened the place between my legs, I learned that I had made a very, very big mistake.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Wylfrael

Ihave made a gross miscalculation.

It was a brief spark of a thought, quickly extinguished in a tide of hungering sensation.

Curse this woman.

Curse her challenging eyes, now half-closed in a feverish daze. Curse her succulent skin, the fragrant waft of her scent, the little panting sounds she made that went straight to my groin. She’d gone pliable in my hold, under the stroking of my tongue and grazing of my teeth, her pride and daring melting away like the last snows of spring.

I cursed myself, too. Cursed my body for not withstanding this, for not maintaining the cool distance I so badly needed. My cock was hard and urgent and aching, leaving me feeling as out of control as an untried youth.

“I’ll just… I’ll just slip out, then,” Ashken said gruffly from very near to us. I froze, and Torrance’s arm went rigid in my grasp. I hadn’t noticed Ashken getting so close. I was entirely beguiled by Torrance and her ridiculously breakable, absurdly kissable wrist, lost to everything else.

I wanted to drop her arm, like it was something repellant I’d found in my hold quite by mistake. But that wouldn’t exactly look like the act of a loving husband. Instead, I carefully detached my mouth from her skin and lowered her arm. She tugged slightly, but I didn’t let go, instead sliding my grip until I held her hand. She inhaled sharply when my fingers settled around hers.

Oh, no, my little bride. I’m not letting you go that easily.

“It’s alright, Ashken. We are finished here. Aiko and Shoshen have already started bringing everything to my chamber in the Eve Tower. We will go meet them there.”

“Everything? What’s everything?” Torrance asked, her breath shaky.

“You’ll see.”

I pulled my weak-limbed, panting bride out of the library, then upstairs to the closest tunnel leading to the Eve Tower. Neither of us said a word the entire way. As I held her hand, I tried desperately not to notice how small and warm it was, how delicate her fingers, fingers so short I doubted they’d even reach all the way around my –

No.

That was the only internal response I could manage. No.

No, Wylfrael, do not go any further, for that way lies madness you will never claw your way back from.

I could not let this become anything other than exactly what it was – a fake marriage. An arrangement. A deal with a desperate woman who hated me, and whom I was not particularly fond of, either.

But when I’d sucked her pretty skin, she had not looked at me like she’d hated me. She’d looked at me, with those cursedly beautiful snow and honey eyes, like I was on the verge of making her come undone.

A weakness of the body, then. Just like mine. Disobeying all common sense in the face of nonsensical, animal attraction.

I would have to retain tighter control. Not let her goad me into any more ridiculous challenges that would leave me panting and needy as a virgin seeing his first naked female.

She wasn’t even naked, for the sky’s sake!

Luckily, Aiko and Shoshen’s arguing helped dampen the fires burning in my loins. Their words filtered down the stairs as we ascended to my bedroom.

“No, put it over there, Shoshen! We’ll need to make room for the rest!” Aiko said, rather sensibly, I thought, considering the amount of fabric and clothing I’d bought. Lots of clothing will be good. Many layers to cover up my bride, make her shapeless. Maybe then I won’t be plagued by the memory of sucking her skin like an idiot.

“Oh, my lord! Torrance! Hello!” Aiko flattened her ears when we entered. Shoshen did the same as he straightened and turned towards us from where he’d been bent over the large crystal chest of new clothing and fabric. I’d carried two chests back with me on my flight, and Hoshta had promised to send the rest of the order through the mountains by sled, so we’d receive it in a few days.

“We’ve only brought the one up so far, my lord. We’re about to go back for the other,” Shoshen said.

“Very good then. We’ll be here.”

Aiko and Shoshen walked by us to leave. On the way by, under her breath, Aiko whispered excitedly, “Torrance, you’ll never believe how lovely the fabrics are. Silk and fur in nearly every colour! Be sure to tell me which you’d like for your wedding clothes!”

Aiko wouldn’t have noticed, but I felt the jerk of Torrance’s hand in mine at the mention of wedding clothes.

“Yes, of course. Thank you,” Torrance said weakly.

“They don’t call you Lady Torrance?” I asked with a raised brow as the siblings left and disappeared down the stairs.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Torrance said simply, offering no other explanation.

“Fair enough,” I muttered. I didn’t particularly care what the Sionnachans called me. Whether they used a title like “lord” or not was immaterial to me. But such things obviously bothered my bride. She didn’t want authority here, or power. Well, she didn’t want power over anyone but me, I supposed. Her little stunt back in the library proved that well enough.

I realized I was still holding her hand. I released her and stepped away brusquely.

“Go stand over there,” I said striding to the chest and wrenching it open. Unlike last time at Hoshta’s, I had not limited myself to plain fabrics. Piles of silk slipped over each other, luscious pink, deep-lake blue, rich cream, and sublime silver-black – the colour of sky between stars.

I pulled the pink from the chest. I turned to find Torrance not standing like I’d asked, but sitting in a crystal-backed chair by the hearth, watching me with a tight expression.

“What is all this?”

“I thought it would be obvious by now,” I said dryly, holding up the pink silk. “Now that you’re to be my wife, you’ll need a new wardrobe.”

She didn’t look pleased by this. Rather stupidly, I wondered if perhaps she did not favour pink and I should get her something else before I remembered that the colours she liked did not matter. What mattered was that the insolent woman listened to me.

“I don’t need all that. Send it back.”

“No.”

Her mouth fell open, a wet little circle that made dark urges lance through me. I wanted to trace that pink circle with my fingers, dip my thumb inside. I wanted to stuff it full of the silk in my hands, to watch her moan around the fabric.

I wanted to put one hand on the top of her head, the other beneath her chin, and shut her mouth for her like snapping closed a box.

I didn’t do any of those things. I just stared down at the silk. But the deep pink colour only reminded me of the inside of her mouth.

Fine! Not the pink, then. For Sionnach’s sake…

I tossed it down, instead going for the pearlescent black. It slid over my skin like water, impossibly smooth and deliciously cool. I gathered it all up, then stormed over to my betrothed who watched me haughtily from her place in the chair.

“Stand up,” I said gruffly, fisting the silk.

“No.”

Her word was a sharp declaration, and I could not help but notice the way it had echoed mine from a moment ago.

“No?”

“No,” she said again. “I was raised to believe that a woman doesn’t have to obey her husband.”

“Believe it or not,” I said tightly, “I was raised the same way.”

With scorching relief, I was glad my parents, whom I’d loved dearly, were dead. It was a terrible thought, one that never would have entered my mind before now.

“Fine,” I bit out when she didn’t respond. “Sit there like a petulant child if you must.”

“I’m not a petulant child! I was walking up and down stairs all day and I’m exhausted!” Torrance snapped as I knelt in front of the chair.

“I was also raised to believe that if something is physically difficult, it means you need to do it more,” I said. “You need to exercise. Strengthen your limbs. Your kind is weak.”

Weak, terrifyingly weak. Like I could break you with a glance.

“Excuse me,” she hissed. “I’m a scientist, not an athlete. Forgive me for getting fatigued by climbing about eighty million stairs in one day.”

“Eighty million? Really? Is that your best, most scientific estimate?”

Fury flashed in her eyes, and I could tell she was about to send some scathing retort my way. I ignored her, draping the black silk around her shoulders, seeing how the colour suited her oddly ever-changing human complexion.

The touch of the silk on her skin had a de-escalating effect I wouldn’t have believed considering how angry she’d looked a moment ago. But rage was now replaced with confusion, as she looked down at my hands, and the fabric, like she hadn’t noticed me bring it over here in the first place.

I watched her face carefully as her expression softened.

“You like it,” I murmured, feeling, absurdly, like I’d been victorious somehow. There was a hateful sort of satisfaction in the fact that I’d chosen something to her taste. That I’d brought her something she wanted, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

Grudgingly, I had to say that she was not the only one who liked it. The dull grey tunic she had on was now hidden, her narrow shoulders awash in slippery, shimmering black. It made her skin glow, made her eyes deeper, her hair colour richer. Like this, in my crystal chair, drenched in the colour of deepest night, she did not look like some frail human prisoner. She looked like a captured queen. Trapped, but radiant all the same.

“Doesn’t matter if I like it. I don’t need it,” she said, hardening her features as she turned her visage up to me. “I don’t need any of this. A few extra outfits would be useful, but entire chests of fabric for one person? With more on the way? It’s too much.”

I held myself in check with icy will, not willing to acknowledge how much the rejection of the silk was bothering me.

“You still do not understand,” I said, keeping my tone cold and detached. “This is merely one of many things you will be expected to accept in your role. You will be outfitted as befits your new station as the wife to a stone sky god.”

“Do all stone sky brides have to deal with this?” she asked tartly, like she’d sucked on something sour.

“I do not care what other stone sky brides do,” I hissed, control over my impatience cracking. “I only care about mine.”

Mine. The word had come out vicious. It startled Torrance, her defiance shifting to wariness.

“And sleeping in this room with you?” she said slowly. I stared at her mouth as she spoke. “That’s just one more thing I’ll have to accept, I suppose, considering you didn’t even bother to tell me.”

“Of course, you’ll sleep in this room,” I snapped. The silk was beginning to slide downwards. I let it go until it pooled around Torrance’s hips. “No newly mated stone sky god would sleep away from his bride. I’m surprised you would have expected otherwise. Is it different among humans?”

“Well, no, it’s not, but-”

“But what? I feel I have been very clear on the terms of this arrangement, Torrance. You must convince everyone, everyone, that you are my true mate. If you can’t even do that here among the Sionnachans, you will never make it past the keener eyes of other stone sky gods.”

Ah, there it was. That flare of pride I was growing to recognize in her.

“I can do it.”

“Good,” I said. “Now stand up so Aiko can drape you properly and get your measurements when she comes back. They won’t be much longer.”

It looked like I’d put acid under her tongue, but she did it all the same.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Torrance

Less than one full day into our arrangement and I felt like things were already going way off the rails. I thought I’d have more control now. But somehow, even though I was now more free than I’d ever been on this planet, I felt the walls closing in.

And all of those walls were named Wylfrael.

I stared numbly ahead, keeping a phony smile plastered on my face as Wylfrael and Aiko brought out bolt after bolt of fabric in every imaginable texture and colour. Aiko fluttered to-and-fro as Wylfrael growled orders at her about which colour or type of fabric to wrap around me next. Every time Aiko asked if I liked something, I gave perfunctory responses about how much I loved whatever she was holding, even though I could barely tell one item from another by this point. There was just too much of it. The chests were gigantic, enough fabric to clothe an entire army of fake human brides. And there was more coming.

“Torrance?”

“What? Oh,” I said, focusing on Aiko, who was speaking to me. “Yes. It’s lovely.”

“I… I know. You already said that about this one.”

“Oh.” My cheeks got hot. I didn’t mind blowing Wylfrael off, but I didn’t want Aiko to think I was being rude or not listening to her. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

It wasn’t Aiko who answered, but Wylfrael, who loomed directly behind me.

“She asked about your wedding clothing.”

My wedding clothing.

“Oh, that. A white gown,” I said.

Shit. I regretted my response instantly. If I’d had more presence of mind, I would have made something up, told them I wanted to wear a bright green jumpsuit, anything to keep this from feeling so alarmingly real. But it was too late now, and Aiko had already turned her bushy tail around to go dig through what was left in the second chest.

“Ah, yes, this one,” she said, straightening, her arms overflowing with material. “This one is just gorgeous.”

Aiko was right. It was silk the ethereal colour of moonlight on snow. Distressingly perfect. So lovely it made my chest hurt. Aiko wasted no time, immediately draping the softly shimmering material around me as I tried desperately not to give in to the sudden, unexpected urge to weep.

“Oh, my lord, come around here and see how beautiful she is.”

No, don’t. I didn’t want him to see my face now. To notice that my mask had slipped, that I was already failing.

Wylfrael breathed in tightly before taking crisp, controlled strides around to my front. He stood behind Aiko, who was currently holding the material up against me, his hands clasped behind his back.

I almost wanted to laugh through my tears. If I thought I was failing in representing my half of our happy couple, then Wylfrael was doing even worse than me. He didn’t look like he was on the verge of tears, like I did. He looked like he felt nothing. Apart from a twitch of tension in his cheek when he saw the unshed tears in my eyes, he showed absolutely no emotion. It was only when Aiko twisted back to look at him questioningly that he finally spoke, uttering five short, commanding words before he turned and swept out of the room, leaving us both staring in his wake.

“She will wear this one.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Torrance

Wylfrael didn’t come back for a long time. So long that panic began to claw at me, panic that he’d gone back on our deal, that the whole thing was called off. That I’d go back to being shut away in the room at the top of the Dawn Tower, no chance of finding my friends or freedom.

When Aiko brought me dinner, she seemed surprised not to find Wylfrael with me, two plates on her tray. So, they don’t know where he is, either.

I’d beamed at her and thanked her for the food, as if everything was fine in Torrance and Wylfrael land. Eventually, she left, and I hoped she hadn’t gotten suspicious about Wylfrael’s absence.

Him being gone gave me a lot of time to pick away at my food and stare at the room I’d been left alone in. This chamber was magnificent, easily three times the size of the already large one I’d slept in until now. The Eve Tower was carved out of a silver-white tree, which made the walls of this room glisten like fire-licked platinum. The bed was outrageously huge, standing high on a silver frame, and I noted with both embarrassment and appreciation that Aiko had made good on her word and had supplied a stool for me to get in and out of it. Good thing, too, because I could already tell I wouldn’t be able to haul myself up there like I had the other bed. On either side of the bed stood gigantic green crystal armoires. The one on the left was mine now, and it was already stuffed with garments Wylfrael had purchased for me, just waiting to be tailored to my puny human frame by Aiko. When Aiko got to work on the rest of the fabrics he’d bought, sewing them into actual clothes, I had no idea where they were all going to go.

The floor gleamed silver, just like the walls, the only colourful tile in the massive pool of a tub carved into the floor near the towering fireplace. A green desk and chair were also near the fire, with what looked like sewing supplies, which I quickly remembered were actually Sionnachan writing supplies.

I was seated at a large, oval-shaped table, slowly eating my food, when my gaze finally came to rest on the empty chair across from me.

Bastard.

How dare he just disappear like this? After he had made such a big deal about a newly mated god not being away from his bride at night, too! It was late, I was exhausted and ready to fall (or climb, really) into bed, and my supposedly devoted husband was nowhere to be found.

I retreated into rage, grinding my teeth and glaring at the other chair. Anger was easier than acknowledging the teeny, tiny, absolutely minuscule possibility that I was maybe just a little bit hurt he hadn’t shown up. That he could just walk out of the room, leave this world entirely, if he wanted to, like I didn’t even exist.

No, screw that. I was not going to sit there and feel sorry for myself because the alien devil of a man I’d made a deal with was being a moody prick. I wasn’t going to wait for him, whenever he deigned to return, like I had nothing better to do. I had all kinds of more important tasks I could complete. Like…

Well, what I really wanted to do was lie down, but I absolutely refused to do that right now, especially in his bed. I’d been jarred out of sleep by his presence too many times already.

I got out of the chair and brushed my teeth. While I scrubbed savagely at my molars, I decided I’d get out of here. If Wylfrael could jet off somewhere without warning, then so could I. I was too tired to go outside and hike through snow without Wylfrael doing his whole psychic snowplough thing, so I figured I’d explore the rest of the Eve Tower since that hadn’t been covered on our tour.

I left the bathroom and walked through the main bedroom to the door. I paused, though, the armoire catching my eye. For a second, I considered pulling all the clothing out and dumping it onto the big fire rock that crackled in the fireplace. But even in my anger, I knew I wouldn’t do it. Even though I didn’t want the items, even though they’d come to represent how little power I really had in this bargain, they were too beautiful to destroy. Some Sionnachan had put their time and care into the clothing, and I couldn’t burn that. Plus, Aiko had been so excited during our measuring session, like she was getting to play with a real-life dress-up doll, and I didn’t want to imagine the disappointment she would try to hide if she came in tomorrow and found only ashes left of all the clothing.

It would have made Wylfrael furious, of course, which at this point was quite an alluring idea. But ultimately, I decided to go in the complete opposite direction of burning the clothes.

I’d wear them.

If he’s going to completely suck at playing husband, I’m going to give 110% at being his wife. So that there’s no way he can find fault in my performance.

I stomped over to the armoire, a wicked smile on my lips as I yanked it open. I hurried out of my human clothing, leaving it on the floor. I ended up discarding my bra and panties, too, since I’d need to wash them tonight anyway. I stood naked before the armoire, perusing its contents, my eyes and my hands running over fur and leather and silk.

I settled on a crimson silk robe. It was far too big, but it had a belt which helped tighten the garment at my waist. The sleeves I wouldn’t be able to help until Aiko tailored them, so I rolled them up past my elbows as best I could. As I walked, the silk flaps of the robe trailed behind me like a river of shining blood.

In this luxurious red robe, walking through this quiet castle in the dark of night, I felt like some lost woman in a Gothic story. Like I should be creeping through the halls holding a candle up in the darkness.

I actually wished for a candle as I left the room and went up the stairs. There were no firestone lanterns in this passageway, and as I ascended, I fought the feeling that I was walking into nothing.

Wylfrael’s room was quite near the top of the tower, so there wasn’t too much left to explore up here. I poked my nose in a couple of rooms that, thankfully, were lit by fires. One was something like a study, another was a large, lovely bedroom.

I continued upward to the last room – the highest point in the Eve Tower. I pushed the door open and held my breath, surprised by the hushed darkness that met my eyes after the light of the other rooms.

I blinked furiously, trying to adjust my gaze to the lack of light, feeling dread prickle, like I’d found something I shouldn’t have. Was this something horrible? Was it a dungeon, a torture chamber?

No, I told myself bitterly, if it were, you would have been thrown in here as soon as you arrived.

Slowly, my eyes did adjust. I wondered if the crystal was carved to be thinner up here, because the barest amount of starlight was filtering through the translucent silvery walls. I couldn’t tell exactly what I was looking at as I entered, even as my eyes adjusted. There was nothing in the room except a huge tubular thing in the centre, jutting straight up from the floor, with a domed top. The tube was easily large enough for a person to stand in, and as I walked around it, I found one part of the tube was open, as if that was exactly what you were supposed to do.

After examining it as closely as I could and finding nothing in there that would indicate danger – no hidden spikes about to jump out and skewer an unsuspecting human – I cautiously stepped inside.

Nothing happened. I turned in a circle, frowning. I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d been expecting, but the fact there was what seemed to be a completely useless, empty tube taking up an entire room by itself was weird.

This doesn’t seem Sionnachan, I thought with a small shiver. This tube wasn’t carved from crystal or stone. It didn’t have the rustic feel of Sionnachan furniture, either. It almost looked like it was made of perfectly shaped glass – transparent except for the occasional whorl of smoky silver running through it.

“It doesn’t work when the roof is closed.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Wylfrael’s voice. I spun in the tube until I found him, a nebulous shadow lit by tiny stars, looming in the doorway.

“What? What the hell? What are you doing here?” I stammered, startled.

“I live here,” he responded dryly. The sarcastic edge to his tone made me feel like I was going to explode.

“You know what I mean!” I seethed, storming out of the tube towards him. “Where were you? You just took off! I was doing what I was supposed to do, and you, what? Just decided you needed a break from the wedding planning?” Wylfrael didn’t answer, silent, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. His lack of response made my anger burn brighter.

“Aiko was confused by your absence, you know” I ranted. “She brought two plates of food to our chamber and didn’t understand why you weren’t with me. A newly mated god leaving behind his bride. Looks very legit.” I crossed my arms, a reflection of his pose. All the extra rolled-up silk bunched around my elbows.

“Do you want to know how it works?”

I blinked, my arms falling to my sides. “Do I want to… What? What are you talking about?”

“The starfinder. You were standing in it a moment ago. I assume you were curious.”

“Right now, I’m more curious about why you completely disregarded your end of our bargain this afternoon. What was it you said earlier? If you can’t fake it in front of the Sionnachans, you’ll never be able to do it in front of the other stone sky gods?”

Still, he didn’t fucking answer. Instead, he pushed off from the doorframe and strode into the room, a shadow taking shape.

I wanted to shout, to make him respond, make him justify himself to me. You fucking left me here!

But that was just too pathetic. If he could be cool and detached, then that was just fine. I’d be that way too.

Wylfrael had lost his vest at some point during whatever the hell it was that he’d been doing. His markings cast a dim blue glow over everything, including me, as he approached. His gaze glowed, too, the colour of clear Canadian skies in winter, so beautiful it made my ribs constrict. His gaze was intense on me, more penetrating than his detached tone of voice would have had me believe. His eyes dipped to my neck, my collarbones, my chest. I realized, nipples growing taut in the cool air of the fireless room, that my robe had started sliding down one shoulder, exposing cleavage. I thought about grasping the material and pulling it closed, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to make myself small. To hide myself and acknowledge I was vulnerable. Instead, I raised my chin, heart pounding.

Wylfrael didn’t say anything else and he didn’t touch me, though, for half a hammering heartbeat, I’d thought he was going to. He walked around me, his movements creating a brush of air on my exposed skin that made me shiver. He went past the tube thing in the centre of the room to the wall across from me, grasping something on the wall – a lever? – that I hadn’t noticed before.

He cranked the lever, and I gasped, my head turning wildly.

The entire room was peeling apart. Cold air rushed in, but I barely felt it through the shock. The top of the tower split, more than a dozen pieces opening until they came to rest in a flat ring, jutting outwards like the petals of a frozen flower.

We were no longer in a room but on a roof.

The view was incredible. It wasn’t obscured the way it was in the tunnels. From here, I could see the dark stretch of forest, the jagged wall of mountains, and, God, the stars.

Light pollution apparently wasn’t a thing on Sionnach. I tilted my head back, dizzy and humbled at the glorious spray of light overhead.

“Amazing,” I breathed. I’d almost completely forgotten Wylfrael was there until he answered me.

“You were here for more than thirty days before I got here. You never once looked at the stars?”

I shook my head, still looking upward. “We were inside the ship at night. I studied them on the computers, using human data and maps, but I never got to…”

To stargaze. The way I’d done since I was a child, looking ever upward, awe-struck and aching to know more. My dad’s house in Northern Ontario was in a rural area, and the stars were almost as bright as these ones now.

I thought of my first telescope, the one Dad had bought me when I was twelve. He’d run a small hardware store in Thunder Bay, and though he worked incredibly hard, money was always tight on his single income. I’d relied on scholarships and income from part-time jobs to go to university. Even at twelve, I knew that the gift had taken him all year, if not more, to save for. Though I’d wanted it desperately, I’d tried to tell him to take it back, that it was too much. Nothing’s too much for my star girl, he’d said with that gruff, almost shy smile of his, like he was embarrassed by the simple act of being happy.

My dad loved everything to do with the Earth. Hiking and fishing, snow and dirt and trees. My obsession with space had always perplexed him, but he’d honoured it anyway, with trips to the Toronto Science Centre and, when we could afford it, visits to the Cosmodôme in Montréal. And then, on my twelfth birthday, with the telescope, painstakingly wrapped but still somehow looking like a mess, a giant tube of crumpled, starry wrapping paper held together with about two hundred strips of clear tape. It had been a monumental gift – a message in layers of sparkly stars. Telling me that even if he didn’t understand the things I loved, he loved me, and that was enough. I thought of that telescope gathering dust in my childhood home, no one to take care of it, no one to claim it, and grief struck me like a blow.

I breathed in sharply, reeling, cold burning my lungs. Wylfrael was at my side in an instant. He pulled the flaps of my robe closed so forcefully I thought that he might rip the fabric.

“You’re too cold. We’ll come back another time. When you’re more appropriately dressed.” There was something in those last words, something about the way his fingers lingered at the base of my throat, that distracted me from the pain of the past and dragged me back into the shattered present.

“I’m fine,” I said, though my teeth were chattering now. “Show me the starfinder.”

I wouldn’t leave until he showed me what it was. For some reason, I needed this. More than I felt like I needed air.

I thought he’d argue with me, but he didn’t. Instead, he grasped my shoulders and spun me, walking me back into the tube. It was tight with both of us in here, and Wylfrael’s bulk crowded against my back. His heat curled powerfully around me, warming my back and expanding in the tube until it almost felt downright cozy in there. Cozy. With a moody alien god I’m about to fake marry… Good grief.

“How did you know I was up here?” I asked. I couldn’t see him like this. I stared straight ahead, through the transparent tube.

“It wasn’t exactly difficult to find you,” he replied. “You left a trail of open doors up the stairs in your wake.”

“Oh.” Subtle, Torrance.

Wylfrael’s hands were still on my shoulders, solid and heavy and so warm I had to fight the urge to nuzzle into him like a kitten.

“Besides,” he added, his hands smoothing inwards over my silk-clad shoulders until they came to rest nearer my neck. “Even if you hadn’t, I’d have just followed your scent.”

“My scent?!” I gasped. “Are you serious?”

He had a sense of smell that strong? Did he have a single physical ability that was merely mediocre?

“Of course I am,” he said, bending, his words stirring my loose hair. “Especially when you wear something as flimsy as this.”

“You’re the one who got it for me, so don’t you dare complain about the clothing!” I said, temper rising. “Especially after you disappeared the way you did! You still haven’t explained that to me, by the way. Why you left.”

Wylfrael tensed. I felt it all down my body, from his fingers on me to his chest and abdomen against my back.

“You were doing that human thing. Your eyes getting all wet and shiny.”

“You mean crying?” I huffed. “So? Humans can cry for a lot of reasons, you know. Not just when we’re sad. Anytime we’re overwhelmed with emotion. Even joy. So, you can’t get mad at me for that. I wasn’t failing at playing a good fiancée. Many humans even cry at their own weddings, so you should have considered it a rehearsal run.”

“But it wasn’t a rehearsal, was it? And you weren’t crying for joy, were you?”

“Well, obviously not,” I snapped. “But the Sionnachans don’t know that, so why does it matter?”

“I do not know why it matters,” he said in quiet consternation. “It shouldn’t. But I saw you standing there in my chamber, about to weep all over what will become your wedding dress and I… I found I couldn’t stand it.”

“You couldn’t stand it… So, you just left. Well, lucky you! There have been many things I’ve barely withstood here so far, and I’ve just had to endure them, not outrun them.”

“What about when you tried to get down the stairs past me the other night, and I took you outside for the sontanna ride? You were running then. At least away from your room.”

His fingers were winding in my hair, now. So slowly I almost didn’t notice him doing it, and I wondered if he even realized, or if it was some unconscious movement.

“Fine, I’ll give you that,” I said. “But I can’t go very far. You can fly off to a whole other world if you want to! And by the way, I’d like a thorough explanation of that phenomenon.”

“An explanation of opening a sky door?”

“Yes! What is that? How do you do it? How do you travel through space without any protective gear? How long does it take to get from one world to another that way? Is that why you didn’t come attack the ship for more than a month of us being here, because it took you a while to come back?”

“You have a lot of questions,” he murmured. He was still playing with my hair, winding it into a thick knot around one of his hands. I would have told him to stop, if not for…

Well, if not for how nice it felt.

“I do have a lot of questions,” I admitted. “I always have, since I was a kid. Questions about everything that’s out there. This is what I studied back on Earth. Stars. Space.”

“I’m not sure how much there is to explain,” Wylfrael said, as if opening a door into another corner of the universe was as simple as flipping the page in a book. “I fly high into the sky, turn the sky to stone, crack it open, then step through to wherever I want to go.”

“But how?” I pressed. “Is it literally like a door? You step in on one side and step out immediately on the other?”

“Essentially, yes.”

My mind whirled. I would have shaken my head in disbelief if not for the firm grip Wylfrael had on my hair at the nape of my neck. Turning the sky to stone… Somehow, he was transforming gas from the atmosphere into a solid material, and that material became a door?

The scientific side of my brain wrestled with the possible explanations while another part of me wanted to just shake my head and call it magic.

There were theories in astrophysics, of course, that could potentially help explain it. Like wormholes. But the idea that someone could just create something like a wormhole out of thin fucking air…

“Incredible,” I whispered. “And how do you direct the wormhole?”

“The what?”

“Never mind. It’s a human term to explain a phenomenon like a stone sky door. It’s been basically unproven until now, though. I mean, it’s present in the solutions to Einstein’s theories, but some scientists think they couldn’t exist because they’re too unstable. Although, if you’re only creating them for a short time…” God, the papers I could write on this…

“Wormhole…” Wylfrael muttered. “Such an ugly term. It’s a sky door, Torrance. Nothing to do with worms and dirt.”

“Whatever, just tell me more about it! How do you direct it? How do you know where it will open?”

“I use my power.”

“Very detailed response, thank you.” I rolled my eyes. “If you’re going to be married to me, Wylfrael, you’ll have to get used to these kinds of questions.”

I swallowed, suddenly nervous about what I’d contemplated in the room alone. That he was done with this whole deal.

“You are still planning to marry me, right?” There was a fucking quaver in my voice that shamed me right down to my toes. I was immensely thankful I was facing away from Wylfrael right now.

His fist tightened in my hair.

“Of course, I am. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Oh, gee, I don’t know, maybe because you abandoned me for hours today with absolutely no explanation and made me think this was about to all blow up in my face!”

Now I just sounded pathetic. I cleared my throat and adopted a business-like tone.

“Good. Alright then. I’m satisfied that our arrangement is still in place.” I’d almost said I was happy instead of satisfied and barely caught myself. “Now, if we could get back to my question about how you direct the wormholes – the sky doors – with a few more details this time?”

“I can only travel to places on my star map. I direct my power to that area of the map, then visualize where on the planet’s surface I want to land.”

“Your star map…” I’d heard that term before, when he was talking to Maerwynne. “What is that, like some sort of compass? A tool you bring with you that – holy shit.”

I turned, creating a painful tug at my scalp. Wylfrael flinched, then unwrapped my hair from his hand so I could whirl around to face him.

“It’s this,” I gasped. The space was so cramped with two of us in the tube that Wylfrael’s wings were folded tightly behind his back, so I couldn’t see all of it. But even so, I knew exactly what I was looking at now. It’s a map. A fucking map inked right into his skin. These weren’t just star-like points strewn across his body. They represented actual stars.

“Is this like a tattoo? Is the kind of ink important?” I mean, the ink fucking glowed, for one thing. I wondered if he was radioactive, if just being beside him would eventually give me cancer or some other horrible side effect. But even thoughts like that couldn’t stop me from reaching a trembling hand forward and tracing the little blue flames on his chest. His pectoral muscles visibly tightened when my fingertips brushed his skin.

“It’s not a tattoo. Stone sky gods are born with star maps.”

I could barely comprehend that. That his kind was born with the universe inside them. No wonder he’s so arrogant, I thought. How could you not be, when no matter where you are, you’re never lost? When you have the whole spread of the sky as part of your own body, like you own it? When you can go anywhere, absolutely anywhere, and always find your way home?

I moved my fingers slowly, almost reverently, across his front. Down his chest to his taut abdomen, skimming across the edge of the few remaining bandages, then over to his arm, where the stars webbed all the way down to his hands. I realized with breathless excitement that the stars felt different from the rest of his skin, each point slightly warmer and thrumming, a tiny buzz of energy in each light.

“Are you quite finished with your examination?” Wylfrael asked through his teeth, a certain raggedness in his breath.

“No!” I said. “Now I’m looking for Earth.”

I found it. At least, I found the milky way galaxy, on the back of his left hand. There was something oddly thrilling in the discovery, and I held his hand with both of mine, bending so close my nose brushed his knuckles.

“Here! Here it is!”

He grunted.

“It’s on my star map, then. Good. Not every world is. I suppose you’ll want me to take you back there when this is all through. You and your friends.”

“No,” I said, my excitement fading. “I don’t think Earth will ever be safe for us now. We’ll have to figure that out, as a condition of our arrangement. Think about where the other women and I can live to be safe.”

His fingers twitched against mine. He said, in a monotone voice, as if he were controlling every word, every syllable, “I suppose I could grant you and the others safe haven here.”

I stilled, the stars turning into a meaningless blue blur.

“Stay with you?” I asked.

“Well, no, not really,” he said. “I’d be at Heofonraed as part of the council. But there’s room enough for you all in the castle, and then even without me, you’d all be protected by the Riverdark spell.”

“You care if we’re protected? All us humans whom not long ago you were so mad about invading your world?” I asked, confused enough to finally look up from his hand.

“I care about making sure you go through with our deal,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “If that means housing a bunch of human women as insolent as you, I suppose I’ll do it. I won’t be here to be annoyed by you all. I’ll be too busy on the council.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” I said. In some ways, it was an ideal solution. Human forces would be loath to come back here ever again after Wylfrael’s rampage. We could breathe the atmosphere, the native Sionnachans were kind and generous, and our home base in Wylfrael’s castle would always be protected. It would be a lot easier than trying to find another world that would be safe.

“Hey,” I said, something suddenly occurring to me. “Do you think other stone sky gods have ever visited Earth?”

I thought of stories. Legends of angels and demons and gods. Sublime, winged beings from the sky. I wondered if that was all based in something alien rather than celestial.

“It is possible. I had not heard of your kind before now, but that doesn’t mean another stone sky god has not travelled to your world at some point. Perhaps to claim his mate.”

“Hmm. How many stone sky gods are there?”

“When I was last awake, dozens.”

“That few?” I said, surprised. I assumed they’d be like humans – billions of them out there.

Wylfrael’s wings twitched, like they wanted to expand in the tube.

“We can only reproduce with our fated mates. When we starburn, we grow the knot that can bring forth children, but not before then.”

“What the hell is a knot?”

He gave me a flat look.

“Something you do not need to concern yourself with. I do not have one, because I have not starburned.”

It was obviously some weird alien bit of anatomy related to sex and fertility. Starburning almost sounded like some kind of second puberty.

I relaxed a little bit.

“So, you’re impotent, then? Without this knot?” There was relief in the statement, but the nature of the relief surprised me, made me ashamed. It wasn’t relief that he’d make good on his word not to require sex of me. It was relief that I wouldn’t ever be tempted.

Tempted! To have sex with Wylfrael!

It was ridiculous. And it made me feel like I’d gone off the deep fucking end. But when I remembered the hot suck of his mouth on my wrist, I-

“I am not impotent,” Wylfrael said. There was no blustering ego, no defensiveness in the declaration. It was just a simple statement of fact. “A stone sky god is perfectly capable of copulation with someone who is not his fated one. He just does not starburn, and does not have the knot that can make that person pregnant.”

“Oh.” My relief, my sense of safety – not from him, but from my own stupid self – deflated instantly.

“Anyway, this is why there are not many of us. It takes much time to find one’s fated mate, and children do not always come quickly even after that. Sometimes, the female starburns much later than the stone sky god, which means she cannot easily take his knot before then.”

“Hold on, she starburns too?”

He confirmed it.

That was fascinating. That this mating bond could result in a biological or hormonal change in a whole different species, someone from an entirely different planet. I still didn’t know what the hell a knot was, but based on the way my skin was heating, my nipples hard and not from the cold, I decided not to ask further questions on the topic, afraid of my own bizarre reactions.

I was still holding Wylfrael’s hand. I was kind of surprised that he was letting me, that he hadn’t pulled it away with a berating word by now. I let it go and turned around so my back was to him once more.

“Alright. Show me this starfinder, please.”

Wylfrael raised a hand over both our heads, moving it in an arc under the domed top of the upright tube. There was no click of a button, no whirring of power like in a machine, but something was happening. The sky visible through the clear top of the tube looked like it crashed around us, stars falling everywhere, expanding and swirling down the dome and walls of the tube.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, entranced by the shower of stars falling over us, like drops of shimmering rain, and the top of the tube was a clear umbrella.

“I suppose I am now,” Wylfrael murmured beside my ear. “Though such proclamations seem a little excessive, even from a devoted wife. I’d tone it down a little in front of the others.”

“Oh, my…” I almost said, Oh, my God again, out of annoyance this time, not awe for the starfinder. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“You have another god, then?” he asked, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well, if you must know, humans have many gods,” I huffed. “And let me tell you, you are not the most impressive among them.”

His smirk turned into a throaty, dark chuckle that made something deep inside me tighten.

“As long as you don’t run off and marry any of them. As long as I’m the only one who’s yours.”

He paused, then, asking it casually, like he didn’t really care about the answer one way or the other, he said, “Do you already have a mate?”

It incensed me that this arrogant alien had never even thought about this before now. That it had never even crossed his mind, that I could be spoken for. Not that I had anyone back home – it seemed to be a condition of the women who were abducted for this mission, no living relations or spouses – but still.

“What would you do if I said yes?”

I wasn’t sure if he actually moved or if it was just my awareness of his hot bulk behind me growing keener. But he seemed to get closer and larger in the space, muscles and wings and stars closing in on me.

“It would change nothing,” he said, a new edge of ice coming into his voice, freezing the smirking laughter that had been there a moment before. “You are marrying me, and for the rest of your mortal life, you are mine.”

“Hold on. I thought that once you got on this council, I’d be free to do whatever I wanted. I know I can’t go back to Earth, but does that mean I’d have to be alone? Forever?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly know that when I made this bargain with you!” I said, jaw tight. Not that I was planning on dating a Sionnachan or something, but it still would have been good to know about that piece of things before I agreed to all this.

“If word gets out that you’re taking lovers, it would put everything we’ve worked for into jeopardy. A starburning bond is sacred. A stone sky god’s fated bride would never stray, even if they are physically separated.”

“Wow, you guys really are arrogant,” I snapped. To think that just because they got married, their wife would never, ever deign to even want to be with anyone else was ridiculous. I’d never cheated on anyone and never planned to, but it irked me that Wylfrael was so sure in his claim, like any woman married to a stone sky god was spellbound by him, with no more mind of her own.

“It is not arrogance to speak the truth.”

“The truth,” I scoffed. “You didn’t tell me this little bit of the truth before. That I’d have no one for the rest of my life.”

“You won’t have no one,” he snarled in return. “You’ll have me.”

His words rang like a gong in my head.

“I’ll have you,” I echoed dully. “Ah, yes. My fake husband. No real life with him. No children.”

“You want children?” He sounded startled.

“Yes! You would know that if you’d asked,” I said. Being single back home, it wasn’t exactly something on my near horizon, but it was always something I’d wanted eventually. I was twenty-nine now, and I’d started thinking about the subject more and more with the approach of my thirtieth birthday.

“Well,” he said, a new gruffness catching in his throat, “I’ll get you a pet.”

“A pet!” I exclaimed, my eyes wide, my mouth opening in offended shock. As if a pet would replace an entire future with a man I loved. A family of my own.

“Yes. A pet. And, like I said, you won’t have no one, you’ll have me. I cannot make you pregnant, but if you should require anything else, I will provide it as your husband.”

“Anything else?” I seethed, having a feeling I knew where he was going with this and just daring him to say it.

“If you should ever require… companionship. Relations, as you call it, I will be the one to provide it to you.”

Provide it to me. As if it was some service I needed, like an oil change, instead of a real connection with someone.

“You’re saying if I want to fuck someone, it has to be you, then? For the rest of my life?” I asked, my voice rising higher and higher with every word until it reached a pitchy, furious warble.

“Yes,” he snapped. “It goes both ways, you know. I will take no other lovers, either.”

“Oh, poor you,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. It felt hot in the tube now, but I couldn’t tell if it was from his body heat or my anger. “You’ve had hundreds of years to fuck your way across the universe and now you’re stuck with only me.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. Was that jealousy?

“I can’t keep talking about this,” I said, tossing my hands in the air. I stormed out of the beautiful starfinder and didn’t stop until I’d reached one of the spread-out petals of this room’s walls, perpendicular to the ground far below. Too furious to be afraid, I kept walking until I neared the pointed edge.

I didn’t need to turn around to know that Wylfrael had followed me out. I felt his presence, even though the cold night air sucked away the warmth of him that had cradled me. He loomed behind me, a shadow I couldn’t shake.

“What?” I called brittlely without turning back to him. “Come out here to tell me what to do again? To tell me to be careful?”

“No,” he said softly. “Even if you slipped, even if you jumped, you’d never hit the ground.”

I finally did turn around to look at him. His wings flared open behind him, a silent, starry promise of protection and possession all wrapped up in one.

I’ll never be truly free.

Even if separated, even if he spent all his time doing whatever it was that the council needed him for, I’d never be free. Not really. I’d always be bound up in this, in him. The invisible, tightening layers of our agreement that had once felt like salvation and now just felt like ruin.

All my fury faded, crushed under sadness that made me double over, like someone had punched me in the solar plexus. My hands landed on my knees then disappeared, turning murky, and I realized it was because of tears in my eyes.

I couldn’t even be mad that I was crying in front of him yet again. In fact, a harsh, hurting part of me was glad for it. Good. Maybe he’ll run away again and leave me the hell alone.

But he didn’t. He was at my side instantly. He said nothing, and neither did I, as he scooped me up into his arms and carried me back towards the stairs. I could have fought him. I could have screamed.

I turned my face against his starlit chest – so warm, so fucking warm – and sobbed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Wylfrael

Torrance was weeping. I couldn’t run from it this time. Not when the salt-scented tempest of it was directed squarely at my chest. She shuddered in my arms, even when we re-entered the warm shelter of the castle, having closed up the walls of the conservatory. Her face was exquisitely soft and alarmingly wet against my chest as I carried her down the stairs.

Was all human weeping this distressing, or only Torrance’s? I was not sure what was a more disagreeable possibility. That I would be affected thus by any human woman weeping. Or that my bride’s crying was special, and affected me above that of any other.

Because affect me, it did. Every tremor, every gasp she made, was like a shockwave through my frame. I wanted to make it stop.

I wanted to comfort her, my prisoner, my bride, but I did not know how.

She wants children. Children!

The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, and now I felt a fool. I’d already resigned myself, with desperate agony, to the fact that I’d never meet my mate, never father a son. But now, I was forcing that fate on her, too.

I’m not forcing it, I reminded myself harshly. Her friends had left her. The only way she’d find them with any sort of efficiency is if I got access to the council. Being married suited both our purposes. We both had to make sacrifices.

I’ll have no one. That’s what she’d said. And, like some haunted half-wit, I’d babbled that she wouldn’t have no one. I’d gone far beyond any realm of decency or sense and told her I’d be there for her, that I would lie with her, even though that was something I knew I should never, ever do. I said I’d get her a blasted pet! Like that would mean anything to her now. I’d even said I’d house her human friends here, the very same ones I’d almost murdered in my rage. If I’d been at my full power, I knew with a deadly certainty I would have killed them all.

I’ll have no one.

I thought about her loving a Sionnachan male and rebelled. The same way I’d rebelled against the thought of Maerwynne marrying her.

That was not her fate. I was her fate.

What do I want with her?

The question was so loud in my head it was almost like Torrance had asked it herself – What do you want with me?

I carried her into my room – our room – and then I did not know what to do with her. I held her, turning my head this way and that, looking for something, anything, to make her stop crying. It was as if her grief was pouring out of her in physical waves, like I was the shore and she a battering ocean storm. I reeled with the sense that she’d drag away every bit of me, erode me down to my very bones, if I let her.

I wanted to drop her. To get as far from her as possible. It was the same trapped burrowbird feeling I’d had when I’d watched her, so lovely and so sad, with the fabric of her wedding dress around her.

I settled on pulsing my wings just enough to lift us onto the bed. But this was perhaps even worse, because now she was cradled in my lap. I thought of heaving her over to the side, but she was clinging to me now, her tiny fingers digging into my neck with the force of something feral.

So, I held her, just as she was. Tiny. Human. Weeping.

And mine.

There was no satisfaction in the thought. Only wild confusion. Confusion because I’d made her cry, which I knew I should not do, because she was to be my wife and we needed to look happy. But there was more than just that, more than just worrying about appearances. So much more. Eyes the colour of honey. A love of animals and snow. An infuriating, beautiful sort of hope that pulsed in her like a heartbeat even while it burned in me like poison.

She was more than I’d bargained for. Much more.

And I didn’t know how to save either of us now.

We’d announced our mating bond, our marriage, and could not go back on such a thing. We both needed the council, which meant we both needed each other.

“This would all be so much easier if I hated you,” I muttered as my hands ran up and down her slender back, the silk barely there between us.

“You don’t hate me?’ she asked, so astonished that she stopped crying for a moment. “Well, I hate you.”

“Clearly,” I said sardonically. “That’s obviously why you’re clinging to me so.”

She sucked in a wet-sounding breath and scrambled out of my lap. Some stupid instinct I could not quash made me regret my words, made me regret that she was no longer in my arms. Even my cock was being stupid at the moment, straining for her through my trousers, as if the curve of her hip still pressed there, even though she’d gone.

“You should have told me.” Her words were an accusation from across the bed as she sat up against the headboard. Though I could have grabbed her with very little effort, it felt as if she was in another world entirely, across a great expanse of fur wider than any universe.

“Told you what? That you could not take a lover, have children?” My own disillusionment was rising now. “It is the same for me. I can never find my true bride, my fated mate. Never. I’ll never have a son, as I always dreamed I would.”

“Oh, please!” Torrance cried, her eyes flashing in the low firestone light. “Aiko told me. She told me that you become a mortal when you claim your true mate. You’re just afraid of dying, that’s why you need me instead of your real bride. Don’t make it sound like we’re the same. You’re choosing your future. Mine was taken from me.”

“That’s what you think?” I asked, keeping very still, freezing everything down when what I wanted to do was explode. “You think I’m avoiding my fated mate and trapping you in this bargain because I’m afraid of dying?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“No.”

Torrance didn’t look pleased with my answer. Her eyes were hard gold points with black in the middle.

“That’s because you’re immortal. How can you be afraid of something you have no concept of? People like me,” – she smacked her hand to her chest, making the silk of her robe rustle and expose more skin – “we have to fight every day to survive. It could all end in an instant.” Her voice cracked, then got quiet. “I was dying when you found me.”

“But you didn’t die,” I reminded her, more forcefully than perhaps was necessary, “precisely because I found you.”

“Well, maybe you should have left me there!” she cried. “It isn’t like you’ve saved me.”

My insides went dark and off-kilter. Like everything was sliding to one side, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get my balance. In an instant, I was above her, on my knees, my hands planted on the headboard on either side of her.

“Do you wish that you were dead instead of with me?”

She did not answer, only stared up at me, all hurting honeyed fire.

“Answer me, Torrance!” My voice grated. I sounded desperate, delirious. I sounded mad – I heard myself, and I knew I did – but I kept on going. “Answer me, now! Would you rather be dead than with me?”

Something in her expression cracked. I thought that she might weep again, but with remarkable steadiness, she just said, “No.”

Relief spun dizzily inside me. Until she added, “Tell me the real reason you won’t find your mate.”

And when she dies it will be by her husband’s hand and blade.

I couldn’t tell her.

I couldn’t even say the words. So, I settled on something that was true even if it was not the main reason.

“It would take too long,” I said. “I don’t know where she is, who she is. She might not even be born yet!”

I was not sure that Torrance looked convinced, her eyes scanning me, her mouth tight. Her long hair was in a wild disarray about her shoulders, her cheeks showing tracks from her tears. Some of those tracks went right down her neck, leading my gaze to her delicate collarbone, down further to where the red silk of her robe parted, showing the space between the luscious curves of her breasts. Heat flooded me, and I gripped the headboard, denying my body its sudden need to lower, to bury my face in that opening. Her scent was stronger than it had ever been, winding through my limbs, warming my spine until my tail twitched and my wings snapped. Her legs were bent and spread, creamy white lines with their apex obscured by the silk.

This time, I could not stop myself. My body moved as if governed by another master, one whose name was not Wylfrael, one who had no discipline, no power, no control. One of my hands drifted downward to her bare knee, my thumb skimming inward, up her smooth thigh.

Her breath caught. “What are you doing?”

“Tell me to stop, and I will stop,” I said hoarsely.

I hated that even my voice was affected by her. My breath coming ragged and harsh just from touching her knee. I wanted to blame her for it, to make it all her fault, but I knew that I could not. Something in me had weakened, had worsened. I saw her hopes and desires for the future and wanted to strike them down. To kill them. Until there was only me, standing among the ruins of her life.

But perhaps I was not the only one. Because she did not tell me to stop. Even as my hand moved upward, my thumb nudging at the silken place where her thigh met her groin, she did not say the word. My entire body was taut. I gripped the headboard so tightly I feared it may crack, merely so that I didn’t unleash my crushing desire upon her small body.

I lifted my hand from her skin and flung apart the robe.

She was bared to me, strange and human, small and lovely. New colour flushed along her chest and up her neck into her cheeks, a heated redness. Her breath was as quick as my own, her breasts rising and falling, her nipples pretty little pink-brown circles. I brushed one of them with my fingers and it went taut. As did Torrance’s spine as she arched into the touch.

“Tell me to stop,” I groaned, pressing my hand down until I kneaded her breast. I knew that I was begging, not commanding. She had to tell me, and tell me now, before I looked lower, touched lower.

She made a choked whimpering sound as my palm dragged roughly across her nipple.

“Don’t,” she said softly, and I froze.

Good. Good, someone needs to end this madness, someone needs to-

“Don’t stop.”

My heartbeat got so loud and fast inside my own head it became a buzzing. I began to move again, slowly, as if in some sort of trance. My hand caressed her breast, rolling the nipple until Torrance moaned. That sound was a bolt of pure power to my cock, lightning in the dark. It snapped some cord inside me, made my movements quick and jerky and…

Shaky.

Shaky!

I was Wylfrael. An immortal stone sky god. I’d lain down with females from across the cosmos. And never once had I shaken.

I shook now. I shook when I took in the dark, erotic thatch of curling hair between her legs. When I brushed my fingers there, then lower, to a swollen nub at the top of her folds, she jerked, her hips rising to meet me.

“Right here, little bride?” I asked, dark fire burning through me, taking away the shakiness until there was nothing left but possessive, all-consuming hunger. Torrance watched me through heavy-lidded eyes, as if in a fever, in a dream. As if this were not quite real.

I stroked the swollen spot again, and the sound that came out of her throat was one I knew I would not forget until the endless end of my immortal days.

Having been with females of different species with varying anatomy, I’d grown used to watching closely and learning quickly about which places were sensitive, which places brought pleasure. Undoubtedly, this was one of Torrance’s. I touched the nub experimentally, blood heating when I found a circling rhythm that made her eyes fall shut and her head roll back against the headboard. I moved, putting both my knees between her thighs, forcing her legs wider.

The need to be inside her was vicious. Bludgeoning. Like someone had hit me over the head and the only way I’d survive the blow was to rut her. But even in the haze of that feeling, I knew I could not. Not yet. I had no knot, but still, she was small. Some females took time and preparation for my cock, and I had no doubt that Torrance would be one of them.

I slid my fingers away from the swollen place that made Torrance whimper and moan, then pressed down, down, down. Down through hot wetness that made my balls ache and my fangs clench. I thanked my past self for trimming my claws this morning. I normally kept them short and blunt – it was only because I’d been asleep for so long that they’d gotten so sharp. I’d cut and filed them all before leaving for the village. I’d told myself as I did it that I was just getting things back in order. Restoring things to how they’d always been, as if thoughts of accidentally cutting Torrance’s delicate skin had not plagued me into picking up the blade and file.

I had not been picturing this skin, though. This slick, soft, hot skin, shimmering and sucking my middle finger inside. Tight. The word was a hiss inside my skull.

Some cunts were smooth all the way inside. Not Torrance’s. I stroked deeper, exploring every shallow notch and fluttering ruffle of flesh, groaning when I thought of what her softly textured channel would feel like gripping my cock.

I got my finger far enough inside that I could angle my palm against her, grinding the little nub that made her jump and moan. Her eyes flew open as I pressed my palm there, hard, and began to slide my finger in and out.

A new tension entered her body, something different from before. Something lithe and luscious that made her hips flex against me.

My other hand left the safe anchor of the headboard. I buried my fingers in her hair and fisted it until her throat was bared to me just like the rest of her body.

“See this, little bride?” I demanded gutturally, my mouth against that pulsing column. “Feel this? Feel how much you need me now?”

She mewled in response.

Skies of stone, she smelled so good, felt so good, her frantic heartbeat against my lips, her hips rocking helplessly, her cunt swollen and throbbing as I stroked her from the inside.

“Only me, little bride,” I hissed. I drew my tongue along her pulse between the words. “Only this.” My mouth found the impossibly soft slip of skin at her ear, and she shuddered, wet walls tightening around my finger, when I sucked it. I released her ear with a rasping, splintered breath, then gritted out, “I don’t care if you hate me. As long as you want me.”

Blast it all. I’d meant to say, “As long as you want this.”

But I could not deny it. Not now. I could not flee from it the way I’d fled from her tears. I wanted her to want me, even if she detested the wanting, detested me.

I worked my finger faster until Torrance made desperate little sounds. Her hands rose to my shoulders, wide red silk sleeves sliding down past her elbows to pool around her upper arms. She clutched at me, holding tightly, as if she needed to tether herself to something and that something was me. My pleasure at that was instant and foolish. Satisfaction at being the one she sought instead of fought.

“When you wept in my arms, you turned towards me, not away,” I whispered. At some point, I’d stopped gripping her hair. I drew back slightly to gaze down at the flushed face I cradled. “Is it because there was no one else? Or because it was me who held you?”

Torrance’s eyes fluttered open, finding mine in a daze.

“Same… thing,” she panted.

“No,” I said. “There’s a difference.”

She stared at me, lips quivering. Her eyes focused with what looked like great effort, understanding my question but unwilling, or unable, to answer it.

“I… I…”

“Yes?” Tell me it was me you needed. Me and only me. I curled my finger inward, sliding it in quick, demanding strokes until a pulsing tremor began deep inside her.

“I…” Her eyes scrunched shut, severing the connection, cutting herself off from me and from my question. “I’m going to come.”

“Then come,” I commanded, bending once more to her slender throat, her ear. “Come for me, little bride. Come for me, right now, and don’t you dare forget that I’m the one who made you do it.”

Perhaps for the first time, she obeyed me without defiance or complaint. Her arms squeezed around my neck as she writhed wildly. Then, she arched, taut but thrumming. She cried out as her cunt clamped down.

I groaned along with her, not stopping the strokes of my finger, the press of my palm, wanting to urge more pleasure from her. She answered my movements with pulsing constriction, drawing me deeper, deeper, needing more from me. More of me.

Mind shattered, I pulled my hands away with a growl. I ripped my leather trousers down, releasing my hard length. Lust took on a shape and an instinct and a whole heartbeat of its own as I stared down at Torrance. She was slumped back against the pillows and the headboard. Her eyes were still closed but her legs were open, splayed on the red silk and the white fur. Sionnach preserve me, Sionnach save me, she was so wet. And I was so hard. So hard that every sensation in my body congregated in my groin until there was nothing left. No sense, no stone sky god. I was completely gone, my entire life, every thought and desire I’d ever had, replaced by the obliterating need to be inside her.

“Torrance… Torrance…” I did not know when I’d begun moaning her name in that unfamiliar, broken voice. I only knew that I could not stop saying it as I guided my head to her slick entrance. “Torrance…”

Wetness and glorious heat met my skin. Her slippery arousal coated my tip, thrilling me, making my testicles tingle and tighten. I was so close, already on that star-flung edge, one breathless thrust away from explosion.

But then, she said it. The one word I’d told her, begged her, to say before. The word that made me want to howl, made me want to hurl myself across the room. The word that made some twisted part of me want to – curse me, I knew I’d be sick with shame tomorrow, would not recognize the savagery inside myself – pretend I had not heard her.

But I had heard. And I would not be the monster she’d once told me that I was.

My bride said stop.

And just as I’d vowed I would, I stopped.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Torrance

Wylfrael froze at my word, a living statue, unmoving except for the wild, unsteady tear of his breathing. My own breathing was just as laboured as I stared at him. I couldn’t see his face – he was looking down, down at where his body and mine were nearly joined, his hair falling forward and obscuring his expression. Every muscle in him was clenched – he barely even looked real. More like some illustration from an anatomy book, an example of perfect, honed musculature.

And I wanted him. Wanted him so badly even now my body screamed at me to grind myself upward, to take the tip of his cock, and more, inside me. I wanted him so much that I’d had to tell him to stop. Before I lost my mind. Lost myself.

An aftershock of the orgasm Wylfrael had stroked from my body pulsed in my core, and I let out a soft, unintentional moan. The sound broke the spell over Wylfrael. He moved, though that seemed unintentional, too. His muscles tightened further, jumping under his skin, as a violent shudder ran through his frame. At the same time, his cock jerked, as if trying to get inside me on its own since Wylfrael now refused to move his hips. With a rough, raw sound, Wylfrael ripped himself away from me.

He was out of the bed before I could even blink.

Is he going to disappear again?

My mind felt like it was being torn apart.

I wanted him to go. To leave me. I wanted to never see him again.

And I desperately wanted him to stay.

I scrambled into a seated position after having slumped down among the pillows during this whole ordeal. I tugged my robe closed in a shaky movement, cinching the belt tight, looking down at the fabric as I did it instead of at Wylfrael.

The sound of a door closing made my head whip upwards.

He’s gone. He left after all.

The disappointment came faster and harder than the relief, and that fucking terrified me. But when the sound of running water registered, I realized that he was in the adjoining bathroom, and it was the bathroom door he’d closed, not the main door.

My cheeks heated, my pussy giving a weak pulse, at the thought of him jerking off in there.

This is wrong. This is so fucked up. Wylfrael was not someone I was supposed to fantasize about making himself come, not someone I was supposed to almost let fuck me. He was my captor. My enemy turned reluctant ally. The man I hated and…

My husband.

Not yet! We’re not married yet!

My almost-husband didn’t take long in there. I pursed my lips and averted my gaze when he emerged, suddenly very interested in the little fluffy tufts of fur on the bedspread. I pinched and pulled at the soft fur with my fingers. The sound of running water started up again, and when I finally got the courage to look up at Wylfrael, I found him lounging in the bath as it filled. The bath in here was much larger and deeper than the one in my room had been, about the size of an inground pool, and it had benches built into it along the sides. Wylfrael was seated on one of those benches now, his arms flung out along the floor behind him, his head tipped back, expression brooding.

He’s pissed.

I could see it in the hard lines of his jaw. The cold fury of his gaze as he stared at the tile on the opposite side of the bath.

“You’re not allowed to be mad at me for this,” I said. My own voice in the air surprised me. The thought had become words before it had even fully formed in my head. “You’re not allowed to be angry with me for stopping things.”

Wylfrael didn’t look at me.

“I am not accustomed to being told what I am allowed or not allowed to do in my own castle.”

“Yeah, well, you’re about to get married, so you should probably get accustomed to that,” I snapped. My hands curled into fists around the fur bedspread.

A joyless smirk touched his lips.

It was gone in an instant, his mouth turning grim as he said softly, “I am not angry with you for that.” He tipped his head further back until it rested on the crystal floor. He said it up to the ceiling, so quietly I almost didn’t hear. “Never angry with you for that.”

Oh.

“Then why are you so mad over there?”

I was being stupid. Pushing too hard, digging for something that didn’t even matter. Who cared why Wylfrael was pissed? That seemed to be a natural state of being for the moody, fox-eared alien.

The tub was filling quickly, water reaching his sculpted, starry chest. Steam billowed from the surface, creating a misting veil. Between the steam and the angle of his tipped-back head, I couldn’t see his face at all as he muttered, “Because you love snow.”

Because I love snow?

Jesus, he was going even crazier than I was. At least my thoughts mostly made sense and I wasn’t getting mad at people for an innocuous affection for a goddamn weather phenomenon.

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” I said, pressing my fingertips to my eye sockets. I was so, so tired. I’d been exhausted and ready for bed hours ago, and a lot had happened since then.

That’s putting it mildly.

I opened my eyes. Wylfrael didn’t seem like he was moving from the bath anytime soon. He remained in his languorous position, arms stretched out, head tipped back, a glowing silhouette in the steam. Even now, even bone-tired and needing distance from Wylfrael, I couldn’t ignore a nearly magnetic pull towards him. I wanted to slide out of the bed, pad over to the water, and slip into it. I wanted to find him in the steam, touch him again. I wanted to understand him, understand myself, and why this had even happened.

I wanted to pretend it had never happened at all.

I refused the pull towards him, hunkering down in the bed, yanking fur blankets over myself like armour. I expected the bed to smell like Wylfrael – like frost and leather – but it didn’t, and once again, disappointment outweighed the relief.

I tried to stay awake.

But, the same way I tried not to think about Wylfrael, I failed.

WHEN I WOKE UP TO BRIGHT light filtering in through silver crystal walls, the first thing I saw was Wylfrael in profile, seated in a crystal chair. He was fully dressed in his usual all-leather ensemble, his hair freshly combed and tied back by a scrap of blue silk. He looked clean and cold and fucking perfect, no trace of last night left on him.

I couldn’t say the same for myself. As I sat up groggily, lingering dampness between my legs reminded me all too well of what had happened. I hastily finger-combed my hair, feeling knots, and vividly remembered throwing my head back in pleasure, my hair tangling against the pillows as I came on Wylfrael’s hand.

The memory was so fresh that I stifled a hot gasp. Wylfrael rose instantly from where he’d been sitting, stalking towards me and stopping at the side of the bed. I resisted the urge to scramble backward and away from him just as I resisted the urge to get nearer to him.

He is like a black fucking hole. If I get too close, I’ll disappear.

“You’re awake. Good.”

“Good morning to you too,” I said, voice croaky.

He ignored my greeting.

“I have business to attend to in the nearest villages. I must reacquaint myself with the Sionnachans.”

“Reacquaint yourself?” It was too early for this. Even though, judging by the strength of the light coming in here, it probably wasn’t early at all.

“Yes,” Wylfrael said. “Every Sionnachan I knew before is dead. I must meet their descendants. Reestablish relations.”

I felt my brow furrow as I took this in. Why had I not realized that before? Wylfrael had been gone for generations, recovering from some battle. He’d only just returned…

And everyone he’d known in this entire world was gone.

God, I knew all too well what that was like.

“I’m sorry.”

Wylfrael inhaled sharply, looking taken aback by my words. He shut down the expression quickly, settling his features into an appearance of cool neutrality.

“What for?”

He genuinely seemed not to know. I wondered if he thought I was trying to apologize for something else, for something I’d done.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.

Loss. It made me think of the conversation we’d had after Maerwynne had left. When Wylfrael had looked agonized and told me that what he’d lost was worth more than any world. I’d wanted to say sorry then, too. Instead, I’d just told him that maybe he’d deserved it.

This must have been what he was talking about. He hadn’t lost wealth or status or power, but people. Though he was controlled now, I remembered the look of deep pain on his face that day. He cares about the Sionnachans. Deeply.

And in this moment, I cared about him. Enough to feel sad for his loss, anyway. I’d already decided, holding the knife in Wylfrael’s kitchen, that I wouldn’t let him strip my humanity away. And in that humanity, compassion for him grew. It didn’t take away my anger or confusion, but it was there all the same.

“It does not make sense to apologize for a death you did not cause,” Wylfrael said.

“It’s what we say where I’m from,” I said, shrugging. “What do stone sky gods say when someone dies?”

“Nothing, usually.”

“OK then… What about the Sionnachans?”

Wylfrael’s mouth twisted, and I thought he wouldn’t answer, but he did.

“‘They rest with Nacha now. And I will help you rest until you meet them.’”

“Then, I’m sorry for your loss. But they rest with Nacha now. And I will help you rest until you meet them.”

“You should not make promises you don’t intend to keep,” he admonished, deadly quiet. “That saying means that you will take care of the other person in their grief. That you’ll take on their burdens as your own.”

I shrugged again, not willing to confirm the sentiment of the expression but not exactly taking it back, either.

“I mean, I am supposed to be your bride, aren’t I?” I asked. “Anyway, I’m just saying that I know what it’s like to lose everyone you’ve ever loved.”

His gaze searched my face. His elbow flexed, his hand twitching forward, as if to touch me.

But he didn’t.

He closed himself off with a nonchalant flick of his wings.

“Well, I do not need any rest. And I do not plan on meeting Nacha or anyone else anytime soon.”

That was an understatement, considering that he was immortal.

Well, lucky you, then. You’ll never die like the rest of us.

But there was no real ire in the thought. In fact, I thought that being alive forever was even worse than dying. Endlessly living while those you cared about disappeared around you. Collecting the deaths of the ones you loved like stitches on a cloak, each one adding just a little more weight to your steps, your shoulders, your heart.

It probably made me a fool, and maybe he didn’t deserve it, but now I felt even sorrier for him.

“What will you do when I die?”

My question cracked his illusion of control. Astonishment wracked his features, and his wings snapped wildly, sending a cracking boom, like thunder, through the air.

“What?” he asked, as if he hadn’t understood my question.

I stared at him steadily and repeated the question slowly, calmly.

“What will you do when I die?”

His brows crashed downward in confused consternation, as if I’d brought up some bizarre scenario that made no sense.

“I’m mortal,” I reminded him. “I’ll die eventually.”

“How long does your kind live?” The question made the same sound his wings had a moment ago – a vicious snap.

“Barring any illnesses or accidents, I probably have another fifty or sixty years. Maybe seventy, but that’s pushing it. Oh, and a year is three hundred sixty-five days.”

Sionnachan days were very similar in length to Earth ones, so I knew he’d be able to do the math.

He gave me a stricken look, storms in his eyes.

“That’s all?”

It came out like an accusation, like he was angry with me for being mortal.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s all’? That’s an entire human lifetime!”

“It’s barely half a heartbeat!” he burst out.

“Well,” I spat back, “I’d rather live half a heartbeat and make it count than have a heart that beats forever even though it’s empty.”

Wylfrael jerked his head to the side, eyes boring into the fire. When he looked my way again, he was composed.

“My business in the neighbouring villages will take a few days. I will return every night but might be late. If I am not back by the time the evening meal is served, go ahead and eat without me.”

“Alright. I will,” I said.

He lingered, as if he might say something else, but he didn’t.

And neither did I.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Torrance

What Wylfrael said would take a few days stretched into four, then five. On the morning of the sixth day, I wondered if this was just our new normal. If this was how our marriage was going to be, what the Sionnachans thought of it be damned. As promised, Wylfrael did return every night, but always long after I’d gone to bed, pretending to sleep. I could never fall asleep without him there, but instead lay there in the dark, impatient and annoyed, feigning slumber when he inevitably showed up, stalking into the fire-lit darkness.

I was too proud to sit up and talk to him when he returned at night, not willing to show him that I’d stayed up for him even though I hadn’t really wanted to. Every night, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. And every night, without fail, sleep didn’t come to me until after Wylfrael did. As far as I could tell, he never slept in the bed, but spent the nights upright in a crystal chair.

In the mornings, he was gone before I woke.

I spent a lot of my days with Aiko. She took her wedding planning duties seriously, just as seriously as she took every aspect of business in this castle. When she wasn’t asking about human customs and clothing and vows, she was urging me into my wedding gown for yet another fitting. I decided early on to just tell Aiko what I wanted in the dress. It was obvious now I’d never get to don a real wedding dress at a real human wedding, so I might as well make this one into what I’d always pictured myself wearing. As Aiko worked diligently on the design, I was thankful for the fact that there didn’t seem to be anything approximating mirrors here. I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing my own reflection, outfitted in the dress of my dreams, as I prepared to wed a monster from a nightmare.

But… he didn’t feel like a nightmare anymore. And that was maybe the hardest part. I’d long since stopped fearing him, and I had to admit that I didn’t even hate him now. If I hated him, I wouldn’t be lying awake, waiting for him to return so I could fucking go to sleep every night. If I hated him, I wouldn’t have felt so sad for his losses.

And if I hated him, I sure as hell wouldn’t be wondering what he’d wear to our fake wedding. What he’d think of the dress. Of me.

What I felt for Wylfrael was all chaos and confusion. He made me want to understand him. He made me want to scream. Sometimes, at night, I woke up halfway and was sure that he stood near, bending over the bed and watching me, a silent sentinel. I could never quite fully awaken in those moments. Could never catch him, never truly see him. Which wasn’t any different from my waking hours, to be honest. My groom would never die, but he already felt like a ghost.

I kept myself busy during the days while Wylfrael was gone. Even though she was excited about it, Aiko couldn’t spend all her time with me wedding planning. She had chores to do, and though it had taken some effort on my part to wear her down, she finally agreed to let me help. I scrubbed the crystal floors, assisted in preparing the meals, and dusted the library with Ashken. I even helped Shoshen shovel. He seemed very enthusiastic about my assistance and didn’t require any of the cajoling that his sister did. I was thankful for that. Shovelling the snow felt good. Familiar. Something I’d done countless times back on Earth. I helped him feed the animals in the barn too, big shaggy white bovine creatures called sotasha. The first time I stepped foot in there, I started laughing in giddy disbelief, discovering that what Wylfrael had told me about animals was true. Their brays and moos took shape inside my head, usually some form of the word “food” combined with the word for “more.”

And it wasn’t just the sotasha. There was also Brekken, a massive Sionnachan hunting dog. At least, the word translated to dog inside my ear, but he looked more like a gigantic fairy tale wolf, huge and silver-furred, his shoulders level with mine, with eyes like embers and two massive curving horns spiralling out of his great head. When he’d first seen me outside with Shoshen, he’d loped over and started circling us, barking and yipping madly. I’d been terrified until words had started filtering into my consciousness.

“New two-legs. Hello, two-legs. Pretty, pretty, pretty. Pretty two-legs play? Two-legs hunt? Brekken happy. Brekken hungry. Hello, two-legs. Two-legs tiny. Two-legs cub. Brekken love two-legs cub. Love two-legs. Love food. Treat? Treat? Play, two-legs, play?”

“I think he likes you,” Shoshen called over, laughing in the hyena-esque way I’d gotten used to. It hadn’t taken long – he laughed a lot.

Brekken padded along in his jaunty circle, barking and tossing his head.

“Yes! Brekken love new two-legs. Love Shoshen. Love Aiko. Love Ashken. Ashken three-legs! Brekken four-legs! Brekken love legs. Love run. Love play. Love food. Treat, two-legs?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a treat for you,” I said, shaking my head, amazed by this entire interaction. When Brekken stopped walking and stared at me blankly, then repeated his question about treats, I remembered he couldn’t understand me. He only understood Sionnachan words and commands.

“No treats right now, Brekken. And her name is Torrance,” Shoshen said before turning to me. “I can’t tell you how strange it is to understand the animals now. I’ve known Brekken my whole life, and now I can hear what he’s actually saying to me.”

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” I breathed.

“It is.” He grimaced. “Though, it gets a little dark when he’s going in for the kill on a hunt. I try to tune those parts out.”

Brekken resumed his mad laps around us.

“Hunt? Hunt? Two leg Torrance hunt? Torrance tiny cub. Torrance cub learn hunt. Brekken show. Brekken big dog, big hunt. Brekken show tiny Torrance cub. Brekken teach. Brekken get treat.”

“She’s not going to go hunting with you, you great mad lout,” Shoshen chuckled, leaning against his shovel.

“Torrance cub. Cub learn,” Brekken replied obstinately. “Learn hunt. Learn play. Learn cover shit. No mess no scent no trail. Brekken teach tiny two-legs.”

I burst out laughing.

“OK. How about play? That one I can handle,” I said. I tossed down my shovel, looking around for something to play fetch with, but there weren’t exactly sticks just lying around in a snowy forest of crystal cone trees. Instead, I settled on bending down and heaping snow into my hands. I formed it into a ball, then chucked it as hard as I could.

Brekken went absolutely ballistic, taking off on a tear after a snowball that was just a little too fluffy and that had actually entirely disintegrated in the air.

He hadn’t noticed my snowball’s demise, though, and was digging and running and barking, his tail going crazy. “Where ball? Where ball? Where ball where ball where ball where ball where ball?”

It became a routine. I’d help Aiko with chores and wedding things in the morning, then after lunch, I’d usually venture out with Shoshen, doing outdoor chores and throwing snowball after snowball for Brekken. Like this, with these kind people and this batshit-crazy, loveable, horned wolf of a dog, it almost felt like I could build some sort of life here.

At least, until Wylfrael finally came back.

It was the first time I’d seen him during daylight hours in ten days. I didn’t even know he was there. Not at first. I’d been lobbing snowballs for Brekken while Shoshen did some chores inside the barn when suddenly Brekken started growling. The growls turned to barks, and he sprinted to me, getting behind my back to face something.

That something was Wylfrael.

I hadn’t seen where he’d come from – presumably the sky, having landed soundlessly. He certainly hadn’t been inside the castle this morning. Brekken barked again, his hackles rising at Wylfrael’s presence.

“Get back big wing two-legs!”

Wylfrael’s silver-white brows rose slightly.

“Brekken,” I said, frantically petting him, worried he’d do something that would make Wylfrael retaliate, forgetting he couldn’t understand a fucking word of English. “It’s alright. That’s Wylfrael.”

“The master of this castle,” Wylfrael added. He obviously spoke in Sionnachan, because Brekken understood and replied.

“No,” barked Brekken. “Aiko Ashken Shoshen master. Big wing two-legs stranger. Torrance cub. Brekken protect cub. Big wing two-legs want tiny Torrance. Brekken smell want. Brekken smell hunger. This big wing two-legs hunter. Hunt Torrance. Eat Torrance. Brekken kill.”

“She’s not a cub, she’s my mate,” Wylfrael called coolly. If he was annoyed by Brekken’s barking, he didn’t show it.

“No,” Brekken growled. “No mate.”

Panic made my stomach drop. Jesus Christ, we couldn’t even convince a dog that this was real? I whipped my head, looking to see if Shoshen was around to hear Brekken. The barn wasn’t far away, but luckily, it looked like he was still inside it.

“No no no,” Brekken continued, gnashing his deadly teeth, claws sinking into snow. “No mate. No soft no protect no warm. No nice smell. All hunger all anger all want want want. Want like blood. Brekken smell. Brekken hunter. Brekken know hunter smell.”

Even though Shoshen wasn’t here to witness this, the panic was still inside and growing. Growing because I really was starting to think that Wylfrael would do something awful to shut Brekken up, and fast.

“It’s OK, Brekken!” I said again. I tried to step around his hulking form so that I could go to Wylfrael’s side and show the loyal alien hound this was all alright. But Brekken wasn’t having any of it. As soon as I took a step, he turned on me, fangs flashing, barking madly, “No no no cub stay cub no!”

I didn’t know if Wylfrael even heard the words or if he only saw the teeth so close to my outstretched hand. But he was there in an instant, getting between Brekken and me. He grasped the fur at the back of Brekken’s neck, holding him back by the scruff.

“Don’t hurt him, Wylfrael!” I cried, tugging at Wylfrael’s arms to no avail. “Please! Please!”

Wylfrael ignored me. He looked straight into Brekken’s burning eyes, showing not an ounce of fear at the madly snarling and frothing fangs a breath away from his nose.

“Don’t you ever, ever,” Wylfrael said, his voice barely above a silken whisper, “get your teeth that close to my bride’s skin again.”

Brekken stopped fighting, stopped snapping his jaws. His eyes got big and very focused. The two of them stared at each other in silence for a long, heart-pounding moment.

Finally, Brekken made a gruff whining sound.

“Brekken wrong. Brekken see now. Big wing two-legs Torrance mate. Protect. Protect.”

Wylfrael held Brekken a moment longer, as if making sure he was going to behave, before finally letting go.

“Mate! Mate!” Brekken yipped, running back and forth in the snow. “Brekken see now. Brekken know. Still strange smell. No soft no warm. Protect hunter hunger anger want want want smell all same time. Strange smell. Strange big wing two-legs. Strange mate.”

“Wylfrael,” I reminded Brekken nervously of his name, still worried that Wylfrael would change his mind and hurt the gigantic dog I’d grown to love. Thank God I wasn’t scared of Wylfrael anymore. If Brekken had smelled fear on me, this would not have ended well. He would have attacked, and Wylfrael would have killed him with nothing more than a flick of his fingers. I could forgive Wylfrael for killing the horrible soldiers who’d kidnapped me. I’d never be able to forgive him for hurting Brekken, though. Hurting a dog was a line you just did not cross on any planet.

Then again, I didn’t think my future husband cared about my forgiveness. He’d certainly never asked for it, or tried to earn it.

“He was just trying to protect me,” I said softly, this time to Wylfrael.

“I know,” he answered. And then, with something that sounded shockingly like approval (something I hadn’t even known him capable of) he lifted his chin and said, “That’s one good dog.”

When Shoshen emerged from the barn a moment later and hurried over to greet his lord, Wylfrael immediately told him that Brekken would sleep inside the castle from now on, starting today. This caused no small amount of near-apoplectic excitement in the massive horned hound.

“Brekken sleep live stay play inside! Friends! Friends smoke warm food smell eat eat eat!”

“What made you decide that?” I asked as Shoshen led a frenetic Brekken towards his new home inside the castle instead of the barn. Wylfrael didn’t exactly seem like a dog-lover, despite his pathetic promise to get me a pet.

“The Sionnachans are too gentle,” Wylfrael said, watching the other two go. “It’s good to know there’s someone else who’d kill for you when I’m not here. Might as well make sure he’s actually in the building.”

Someone else who’d kill for me.

Wylfrael would kill for me?

But the question that came out of my mouth wasn’t about that.

“Does that mean you plan on spending even more time away?”

Away from me?

He cast me a sideways look down over his leather-clad shoulder.

“Would you prefer that I were here?”

“Well… I don’t know! We’re supposed to look like we’re together! How can we do that when you’re not here?”

“I come back every night,” he reminded me slowly, as if I were stupid. “For all the Sionnachans know, I spend all night, every night, rutting you the way a starburning stone sky god should.”

Rutting. Oh, my God.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and other places, at that image. There was something savage in the thought. Something desperate and primal that made my pulse quicken between my legs. I knew, without even the tiniest shred of doubt, that if I hadn’t stopped Wylfrael that night, that’s exactly what would have happened. He wouldn’t have made love. He would have rutted. Furious and pounding and punishing. Hard. So fucking hard…

“Sometimes I think you watch me,” I blurted, anything to change the subject, get away from the all-too-alluring idea of him rutting me like a beast. “When I’m sleeping.”

Wylfrael turned to face me fully.

“I do.”

“You… you do?” What kind of crazy person just admitted a thing like that? “Why?”

His mouth quirked downward.

“You ask too many questions.”

“You avoid too many questions.”

“I can’t tell you the answer to a question when I don’t know it.”

“So, let me get this straight. You come home late at night, don’t try to get into bed with me, sleep in a chair, but then also sometimes just get up and watch me?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t know why?”

“No.”

I crossed my arms over the soft fur of my cloak, looking at him skeptically.

“I’m not sure I buy that, Wylf. You don’t strike me as the sort of stone sky god who doesn’t know his own mind.”

He cocked his head.

“Wylf?”

“Oh.” I hadn’t even realized I’d called him that. “I guess it’s a nickname.” An apt one, too. Sounded just like wolf. The predator prowling through the forest of my life.

“And why did you call me that?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Are you sure, Torrance?” he asked, a victorious sneer tugging at his mouth. “You don’t strike me as the sort of human who doesn’t know her own mind.”

God fucking damnit.

“I give up,” I said, shaking my head.

Everything in Wylfrael’s face tightened.

“You give up on what?”

I laughed at how quickly he asked the question. So demanding. Maybe I’d even made him anxious.

“All of this!” I said, “This isn’t working and you know it!” I slashed my hand back and forth in the air, gesturing to him then to me. “This… whatever this is. We’re failing. You more than me, I feel inclined to point out,” I added sourly. He was the one who’d been gone basically every day since we’d struck this bargain. Not me.

“I…” His wings flexed, pounding the air as if in exasperation. “I have business. That doesn’t go away just because I’ll marry soon. Though, I acknowledge that my business has taken longer than anticipated.”

“Hold on. You expect me to believe you’re not actively avoiding me?”

“I am not,” Wylfrael replied with instant certainty. “Being away from you is merely a convenient side effect.”

“Convenient side effect!” I sputtered, enraged.

Hoo, boy. This guy knew exactly how to get under my skin.

“You’re not supposed to be happy about the convenience of not being near me! You’re supposed to be my devoted husband, at my beck and call, feeding me fucking bonbons!”

“What in the snows of Sionnach are bonbons? There is no adequate translation,” he grumbled.

“They’re sweets! Delicious sweets! The kinds of sweets that the wives of rich, powerful men eat all day long!”

I didn’t actually know anything about the lives of rich housewives, but that was what I imagined they did.

“Ask Aiko to make them, then. She’s an accomplished cook.”

“That’s not her job!”

“It is precisely her job,” he countered.

“Do you expect her to feed them to me too, then, instead of you?”

This conversation had entered the realm of absurdity and I knew it. But I couldn’t stop myself now. I was on a roll, and I was going right for the throat.

“You have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, do you? You have no idea how to be my husband!”

Wylfrael’s wings sliced through the air in a violent motion. He caught my shoulders in his huge hands and pinned me with a savage gaze.

“Don’t I?” he hissed, and there was a warning in it, just like he’d warned Brekken. “Because all I can think about when I am near you is how wet you were that night. How you sounded when you came for me, and how you clung to me while you did it. All I can think about is being inside you, and,” his voice lowered an entire dangerous octave, “correct me if I’m wrong, bride, but those are exactly the sorts of things a husband should think, are they not?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re insane?” I breathed, unable to come up with a more coherent response to what he’d said. My mind was whirling, my blood pounding in my head, my breasts, my clit.

“No,” he said, releasing me, “though no one needs to tell me so for me to know it now.” He turned from me, so all I could see was muscled, leather-clad back, star-spun wings, and hair as bright as snow. “You were right when you said I’m a man who knows my own mind. And I know it well enough to know exactly when I lost it.”

“And when was that?” I asked, though I felt I already knew the answer.

“The moment that I found you.”

Neither of us spoke. Finally, I sighed.

“This isn’t working,” I said again, quietly this time.

Wylfrael’s wings twitched in tension, but he didn’t turn around.

“Tell me how to fix it.”

“I don’t think there is any fixing it,” I replied. “It’s going to just be a grin-and-bear-it situation until this is all over.”

“No,” Wylfrael said, turning around to face me once more. “Tell. Me. How. To. Fix. It.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well, for one thing, you can’t just keep being gone all the time and only coming back when I’m sleeping. That should be obvious.”

“But that does not solve the other part.”

“The other…? Oh,” I trailed off weakly.

The other part where all he can think about is fucking me.

The problem was that he wasn’t the only one. I burned from my ears to my toes when I thought of that night. I’d masturbated thinking of that night. When I couldn’t sleep, before Wylfrael came home, I’d slid my fingers inside myself, trying to replicate the feeling of his hand and imagining what would have happened if I hadn’t told him to stop.

“Alright, I… I have a proposition.”

My heart jackhammered, and somewhere in the back of my head a part of my brain – the sane part – was screaming at me to shut up and shut up now.

“Oh?” said Wylfrael, raising a brow.

No. Don’t say it. Don’t say it!

“Maybe we could… have some sort of relations after all. All within the confines of an agreement, of course.”

Wylfrael’s nostrils flared. His eyes were like laser beams on me.

“What kind of agreement?” he said tensely.

“No penetration,” I said quickly, the sane part of myself coming back, just a little bit. “At least not with your… your…”

“My cock?” he provided in a flat voice.

“Right. Um, yes. Thank you. Very helpful.”

Wylfrael eyed me suspiciously.

“You’ve gone an alarming shade of red, little bride. Do I need to take you inside?”

“No, thank you!” I squeaked. I was actually enjoying the winter air on my hot face. It wasn’t too bitterly cold today. It felt like it was about negative ten degrees Celsius. In the fur cloak, I was downright cozy.

And now that I was making a goddamn sex deal with Wylfrael, I was more than cozy. I was incandescent with embarrassment and tremulous arousal.

“Alright. I will agree to that. Outline the rest of your terms,” Wylfrael snapped, as if eager to get this over with.

Or eager to get started. Dear lord.

My insides curled.

“Um…” I hadn’t thought this through, considering the insane idea had only just popped into my head. I frowned, trying to think of anything else important. You know, the typical things you want to watch out for when you’re coming up with a sexual arrangement in your fake marriage to an alien god. Jesus.

“When I say stop, we stop, no matter what,” I said.

“Of course, I accept that term. It’s a given,” Wylfrael replied. “As I have already demonstrated to you once.”

“I know. I’m just… reiterating.”

“Fine. What else?”

What else is there? No penetrative sex, no going further than I want to…

“No feelings,” I burst out. The last thing I needed was the confusion of my marriage blurring the lines between real and fake. Orgasms were one thing. Love, on the other hand…

“Is that everything?”

“Well, yes. I think so,” I said.

There was one brief flicker of a thought, there, then gone again, as Wylfrael crushed me to him. I struggled to hold on to it, feeling like it was something vitally important, as he breathed against my neck, lighting up every nerve in my body. His hands roamed beneath my cloak, sliding down my waist to grip my ass. When he groaned harshly against my ear, then said my name with something that almost sounded like pain, the thought came rushing back. It crystallized inside me until I could finally grasp it fully.

Wylfrael had very clearly verbally agreed to the first two terms of the new agreement I’d just laid out.

Only the first two. Not the third.

I almost said something, almost spoke up, but when his mouth found the sensitive place below my jaw and started to suck, I moaned instead, the sound turning to mist in the air. He dragged a heated line of hungry kisses up to my chin, my cheek. His breath was hot and quick against my skin, his fingers moulded tightly over my ass.

When his tongue tasted the place at the corner of my mouth, I parted my lips involuntarily, an instinctive reaction to let him in. Perhaps a foolish reaction – a betrayal of my body, a dangerous desire to let him further inside – but even as I acknowledged the foolishness, I didn’t close my mouth.

I was fully prepared for him to invade, for him to kiss me like he hated me, ravaging and brutal. In a way, I almost wanted it like that. But what he did instead knocked me more off balance than any bruising onslaught ever could.

He paused just above my mouth, his shuddering breath tantalizing me, making me squeeze inside. His hands slid slowly from my backside, up, up, up. Up, over my waist, over my aching nipples, until they came to rest on either side of my jaw.

The kiss started slowly. Tenderly. And that’s what shocked me so. He grazed his lips over mine, a barely-there prickle of agonizing sensation, before his tongue swiped inward, tasting.

The flare of arousal inside me was so sudden, so strong, I was sure that if Wylfrael hadn’t been holding me, I would have toppled right over into the snow. I opened my mouth further, eagerly meeting his tongue, burying my fingers in his thick hair.

Wylfrael went rigid as I kissed him back. Only for a second, though. Then, he groaned harshly into my mouth, and the kiss became what I’d expected from him all along. Possessive. Conquering. An invasion, but one that I’d invited.

I whimpered as he pinioned my tongue with his, taking over. His hands left my jaw, raking up and down my back, into my hair, then down to my ass again, as if he couldn’t decide where to touch me, couldn’t touch me enough.

When he started tugging at the laces at the front of my silk britches, grinding his erection greedily against me as he did so, I remembered that we were outside, in clear view of both the castle and the barn. I’d learned enough about Shoshen’s schedule to know that he’d be back out here soon.

I tore away from the kiss, and Wylfrael made a rough sound of annoyance.

“We’re outside! They’ll see us!” I panted.

“Good,” he shot back.

“Wylfrael!” I swatted at his chest, the cold air in my lungs starting to clear my head. “I have a new term to add to the agreement!”

A look of grim resignation passed over his face.

“What is it?”

“No getting me undressed and having… relations… in front of other people!”

“Fine,” he growled, “but I have my own amendment.”

“Alright, what?” I asked. Wylfrael released his hold on my britches’ laces. His hand came to my face, and he slipped his thumb along my swollen lower lip.

“I get to kiss you anytime, anywhere. No matter who may be watching.”

I breathed heavily, fighting the urge to open my mouth and let his thumb inside so I could suck it. Maybe even bite it, not that my flat human teeth would be able to do him any damage.

“Never figured you for the sort of guy who’d like kissing so much. Pinned you as more of a wham, bam, thank you ma’am sort.”

“Too much blood has gone to my groin for me to even attempt to understand what you just said,” Wylfrael grunted. “Do you agree or not?”

“Fine. I agree. As long as my second term overrides this one. The rule about you always stopping when I tell you to.”

His thumb continued its slow caress.

“Yes, Torrance,” he murmured. “In this, you will always be obeyed.” A wicked glint entered his gaze. “Though, when I kiss you, I do not think you will ask me to stop.”

“I just told you to stop right now!” I protested.

“Only when you realized someone may see us. It was because you were embarrassed, not because you wanted to.” He leaned down, his breath tantalizing against my neck. “You want things in the darkness you won’t acknowledge in the light.”

“Oh, you are impossible!” I said, pushing back from him, hating that he was right. I stomped a few paces away and glared at him. But just looking at him made me want to go right back into his arms. He was gorgeous, hair and muscles gleaming under the winter sun. My gaze snagged on the massive bulge beneath the dark leather of his trousers and stayed there.

“Am I impossible? Or merely observant?” he asked, smirking. “For example, I can clearly observe where your gaze has gone.”

This bastard!

I wrenched my eyes away from the thick outline of his engorged cock.

“I am going inside!” I huffed. “And don’t get any ideas, because I’m going to help Aiko make dinner in the kitchen!”

Wylfrael’s dark chuckle followed me, just as his feet did a moment later.

“After you, little bride.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Wylfrael

When we entered the kitchen, Aiko looked up from where she was crouched on the floor with a scowl on her face. It disappeared instantly, and she flattened her ears.

“Oh, it’s you two! Welcome back! Sorry, I thought you were Brekken and Shoshen. That dog has made an absolute mess of my kitchen!”

Crystal was shattered all around, obviously having been knocked down to the floor by an over-eager hound.

“It was the tail,” Aiko said, standing and sighing, regarding the mess. “He was so excited he wagged the dishes right off the counters!”

“Oh, let me help you!” Torrance hurried forward. I liked that my bride was kind to the Sionnachans. That she so clearly respected them, and that she’d offered to help Aiko without a moment’s hesitation. But I whipped out my hand and grasped the back of her cloak, stopping her. I thought of her slender fingers getting sliced on all that crystal and hauled her back.

“Don’t move, either of you,” I said, raising my other hand. Using my power, I lifted all the shards of crystal into the air, then swept it over their heads and into a stone bin at the far end of the kitchen.

“Oh, thank you, my lord! Though you should not concern yourself with such things!” Aiko said.

“We would have cleaned it up,” Torrance agreed as I released the back of her cloak. She took it off, and I in turn took it from her to hang near the fire. The ease of that little interaction – passing and hanging up the cloak – surprised me. It felt natural, nearly mundane. Like we’d done it a hundred times before.

“You would have cut yourself and bled all over the floors is what you would have done,” I admonished softly. I couldn’t stop staring at her face. Her eyes. The black parts in the middle changed often, and I’d determined it seemed to change based on the surrounding light. Outside, the black had been reduced to mere pinpricks, her eyes dominated by bright swirling gold and brown. In here, in the dimmer firestone light, the darkness expanded, swallowing the honey, deepening her gaze.

Torrance and Aiko began to work together, side by side. I could tell by the easy comfort between them that this was something they did often. Though, as I leaned against the counter on the opposite side of the room, Aiko tossed occasional worried glances back at me, as if nervous I’d be upset that Torrance was cooking or doing parts of her chores. But it didn’t bother me at all. In fact, it made me strangely happy.

When Aiko slipped into the cellar to get something, Torrance continued working on her own. I sat myself upon a stool and watched her. Her back was to me, and I let my gaze drift over her form as she moved. She was dressed in creamy Sionnachan silk britches and a matching blouse. Aiko had tailored the clothing to fit her properly, accentuating the shape of her hips and the nip of her waist. Her hair tumbled down her back in a rich red-brown river, and I remembered what it was like to wind it, like shining rope, around my fist.

My gaze followed the line of her hair downward, until it settled on her backside and stayed there. The skies take me, that was a delicious curve. My erection, which had begun to subside, returned in full force, my shaft thick and throbbing just from the sight of my betrothed. I wanted to go to her, to bend her over the counter, pull down the silk and rut her from behind.

No penetration, she’d said.

Fine. Between her thighs, then. Where her wetness could drench the top side of my shaft. I palmed my bulge, trying to ease the pressure there, fighting the flaming desire to take out my cock and stroke it.

It was shocking, and pathetic, this need to touch myself in the middle of the kitchen just from watching Torrance walk around and cook, fully clothed. Maybe even dangerous. I wanted my own bride far too much and it could not lead to anything good.

But at least she wants me, too.

Of that much, I was certain. She never would have proposed this new agreement otherwise. And I could feel it in the way her sweet mouth had opened under mine, begging me inwards.

I bit back a groan when Torrance reached up for a stone ladle out of reach, her back arching in the most exhilarating way. She was far too short, but she tried anyway, making little huffing sounds of exertion that made my cock pound. It was undeniably erotic, watching her strain, her fingers trembling and tiny, her breath quickening, rising up on the balls of her slender feet in her thin little socks, her boots abandoned by the door.

I could have come right there, without a single stroke, just from watching her struggle.

Torrance swore loudly, adorable in her frustration.

No, I hissed internally. Not adorable.

My bride was not adorable. She was proud and irritating and strangely, startlingly, for some unknown reason, desirable. But not adorable.

Trying to put us both out of our misery, I raised a hand and levitated the ladle down to her. She took it out of the air and lowered onto flat feet with a relieved sigh. Then, as if it had taken a moment to fully register what had just happened, she jumped and spun around.

“Wylf! You’re still here!”

There it was again. Wylf. The nickname she’d come up with. I could not tell if the informality of it was insolence or intimacy. Either way, I found that, oddly, I did not mind it.

“Never left,” I said simply.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” she said, pressing the ladle to her chest and closing her eyes. They snapped open again a moment later. “What are you still doing here, anyway? Don’t you have stuff to do?”

Why, I was merely bringing myself to the edge of climax, completely untouched, by watching you flail about trying to grasp that ladle.

“I’m supervising,” I grunted.

Her brown brows rose.

“Supervising? Why’s that?” She smiled, her eyes glittering, and swung the ladle through the air like a sword. “Afraid I’m going to poison you?”

My wings rustled in warning.

“Should I be worried about my bride poisoning me?”

She moved her shoulders up and down in a movement I’d come to recognize as meaning very little. A vague non-answer.

“You may be immortal, but I know that you can be killed.”

“Not by poison,” I informed her. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

She did the shoulder thing again, then did something so strange and unexpected it nearly knocked me off the stool.

She laughed.

I froze, watching her in amazement.

I’d seen her laugh before, but never like this. It was always tinged with bitterness or defiance or, like when we’d been with the sontanna, undercut with shades of sorrow. This was the first time I’d seen her so open, so easy, the laughter as joyous and full-throated as a song.

She’s happy.

At least for the moment, anyway. It may have taken joking about my death to get her there, but by the stone sky, she was happy.

“Ah, well,” she said, still chuckling. “I still have that dull little butter knife you left me with. Consider yourself warned.”

“I will take that under advisement,” I said slowly, entranced by the glow of colour in her cheeks, the smile that still pulled so seductively at her lips. She was looking at me and smiling like that.

I was not entirely sure, but I was beginning to get the sense that my false bride was flirting with me.

But no, that could not be. Just like she could not be adorable, she could not be flirting. Because that would imply something more than simply wanting me while hating me. Something beyond raw attraction mixed with loathing. Something warmer, something deeper, something that made my brain feel like it was unspooling inside my skull.

Something I’d already begun to notice in myself even as I tried to bury it.

Aiko, who was unnaturally good at knowing exactly when she was needed, re-entered the kitchen at that moment, distracting Torrance and saving me. The two of them finished dinner preparations, and Torrance began ladling stew into bowls.

“Are you eating here?”

It took me a moment to realize my betrothed was addressing me.

“Are you?” I asked.

“I was planning on it,” she said. “I’ve gotten used to eating here with Aiko and the others when you’re away.”

Aiko watched the two of us, reminding me to take up the role of adoring husband. Adoring husband to my adorable bride, skies save me.

“That is fine, beloved.”

Torrance’s eyes got huge in her small face. I was almost as surprised as she looked. I hadn’t intended to say that. But, much the same as her calling me Wylf, it seemed to have just slipped out. Well, I suppose that’s the fake pet name I’ve chosen for her. I’ll just have to go with it. Can’t take it back now.

I cleared my throat and rose, turning away from both of them so Aiko wouldn’t notice the obvious bulge still pressing outward in my trousers.

“I have some small matters to attend to. I wish to fill Ashken in on news from the villages.” I glanced back at my bride over my shoulder and wing, finding her still wide-eyed, clearly struggling to recover. A dark satisfaction rose in me at that. That I’d thrown her and her flirtations so wildly off-kilter. “I will meet you in our room, beloved.”

I said it with relish that time, emphasizing every sound, watching crimson creep up her neck.

Then, I faced forward once more. I walked out of the room, leaving my bride, beloved and reeling, behind.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Torrance

Iate slowly and silently in the kitchen while Shoshen and Ashken chatted and occasionally told off Brekken for trying to steal food. Eventually, the alien hound was given a massive sotasha femur to chew on, which he took gleefully over to the space in front of the fire.

I ate my stew in the tiniest spoonfuls possible, trying to delay the inevitable. Delay going up to our room, and being alone with Wylfrael. But even as I tried to stall, my body kept reminding me of the fact that I wanted to go. I wanted to pull away from him and run to him, all at the same time. I wanted to hide from him and undress in front of him. To have him look at me the way he’d looked at me that night when he’d ripped my robe away.

There was something toxic, nearly drugging, about the way Wylfrael wanted me. It robbed me of common sense and spoke to something much deeper, without language and without thought, something carnal and instinctive that told me to go to him, to put my neck in the predator’s jaws and see if he’d bite down.

Eventually, I got to the point where my heart was banging so hard in my chest that I couldn’t swallow another bite. Brekken benefitted from my loss of appetite – I placed my half-empty bowl on the floor beside him

“Food! Food! Pretty pretty Torrance two-legs give! Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes!”

His many excited yelps were cut off as he began madly lapping at the bowl. Even though the dishes were fairly large compared to what I was used to on Earth, the bowl looked tiny under his head.

I bid the others goodnight and left the kitchen. I wondered if I should go back in there, grab my cloak, and walk outside for a bit. Try to use the cold to clear my head. But, as if pulled by some invisible and inevitable tether, my body began to move, my feet carrying me through the tunnel that led to the Eve Tower.

I mounted the stairs, passing floor after floor, room after room. My heart beat so quickly it felt like it was trying to run right out of my chest. To escape the body that was betraying it. It had climbed all the way up to my throat by the time I opened the bedroom door with a shaky hand.

My breath whooshed out of me. In a rather anti-climactic turn of events, Wylfrael wasn’t there.

Probably should have expected that, considering how he’s barely here at all these days.

The stab of disappointment infuriated me, and I decided to make myself busy until he eventually came back. A bath. I hadn’t had one yet today, and if something did happen when he came back…

Oh, my God. Why should I care if I’m clean or not for him?

I wasn’t sure if it was pride about not being seen as an unhygienic human, or if, pride be damned, I just wanted him to be pleased by the state of my body. I told myself fiercely it was the former while being afraid it was probably the latter.

I started up the bath, undressed, and slipped inside.

The holes in the tiles were about halfway up. When sitting on one of the built-in benches, the water created glorious pressure on the muscles on either side of my spine. I sighed, leaning back, as warm water massaged my back and began to fill the tub, covering my feet, my ankles, rising up my calves. I couldn’t rest my feet on the floor of the tub while sitting on the bench the way someone larger, like Wylfrael, could, so I swished my feet back and forth in the steaming water. Humidity made my skin dewy, dampened my hair until it stuck to me. I gathered it up, pulling it into a heavy twist on the top of my head, secured with nothing but its own weight. I closed my eyes as the water rose higher, nearly to my knees, almost submerging the bench I sat on.

“Bath time, little bride?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin. My eyes flew open, and I slammed my arms over my chest to cover myself.

Of fucking course this would happen. Of course, my timing would be this bad, or his just that good. I should have known he’d come back in here at precisely the worst time.

Or maybe, in some unmentionable part of myself, I’d known he would. I’d wanted this to happen and hadn’t been able to admit it.

No! I argued against that thought. I did not plan this!

At least… not consciously.

Wylfrael looked magnificent, as always. So beautiful it almost made me hate him all over again. He’d come in and closed the door behind him, something I hadn’t heard above the rush of water, and now leaned against it, wings relaxing downward and to the sides, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Uncross your arms,” he said, a command that sounded soft, belying the knife’s edge of authority to it.

“You uncross your arms,” I snapped, rather idiotically, but I couldn’t quite string together coherent thoughts while hot and naked and wet under Wylfrael’s gaze.

Surprisingly, he obeyed. And perhaps unsurprisingly, he came closer, gliding into the room like fire licking further into the house it meant to destroy.

When he reached the edge of the bath across from me, he stopped. His face was taut, but ultimately impassive. It was only a tremor running through his wings and tail, and a thick bobbing of muscle at his throat, that gave him away. That, and the swelling at his groin. I lifted my chin in triumph, glad that I wasn’t the only one so affected by the situation. I could see his control, and see what surged beneath it. Magma under ice.

He kept his voice even, a slow drawl, as he undid the laces on his vest and slipped it off, baring hard muscle and stars. “I could use a bath as well.”

Oh, fucking hell.

“Don’t come in here,” I said, wrapping my arms tighter around myself and scowling. “Get your own bath.”

“This is my bath, little bride.”

I wanted to come up with some clever quip, but I couldn’t. My words were completely lost to me as he kicked off his boots and ridded himself of his trousers.

My breathing hitched as I took him in, standing completely nude before me, for the first time.

The first thing I noticed was that the stars were everywhere. Not just on his chest and wings but all the way down his thick, muscled legs to his feet and even…

Even on his cock.

I hadn’t seen it that night. Only felt the urgent press of it against my slick pussy. His fist had concealed the shaft.

Nothing concealed it now.

He had no pubic hair, just smooth skin, like bronze but cooler in tone, somewhere between copper and stone. He was fully erect, his cock both familiar and alien. It was vaguely human in shape, but huge, thick at the base and tapering smoothly to a wide, rounded point. There was no foreskin that I could see, and no distinct bulbous head, either, just that long, tapering rod, with two heavy, dark testicles beneath. Mouth dry, I traced the stars along his cock with my eyes, remembering the heated thrum of them under my fingertips and wondering if I’d feel those little vibrations inside myself.

No, I won’t. Because we’ve already established that he’s not going to fuck you like that.

But there my body went betraying me again. Because all I could think about was what he’d feel like inside me, stroking inside, throbbing, rutting…

“So. Um. How has all your business been going?” I said squeakily, trying to distract myself from sexual tension so thick it nearly strangled me.

“Slowly,” Wylfrael said, stepping into the bath and lowering himself onto a bench across from me. The bath had filled more, coming up to my hips, now. But he was so much bigger, his cock so long and hard, that it jutted out of the heated water.

“And yours?” he asked.

“Mine?” I asked, trying to retain at least some sense. But it was hard – hard to talk to him as if we weren’t both naked, as if his cock wasn’t calling to my body from across the water.

“Yes. The wedding planning,” he said. He stretched his arms back along the floor and gazed at me, the positioning of his body all arrogant power, thick thighs spread, cock ready.

He’s waiting for me to come to him.

I steeled my spine. I wouldn’t. At least, not yet. I could hold back. I could have some power here.

“It’s going well, thank you,” I said crisply. “Though I still don’t know when it’s actually happening.”

“It will be the day before the gathering of the gods. I want to marry you before I bring you before the other stone sky gods.”

“Oh. I see.” That was soon. The gathering of the gods was a week from now. Which meant we’d be getting married in only six days.

My throat bobbed. I’d known this was coming. But realizing just how quickly it was barrelling towards me was a shock.

Wylfrael didn’t look bothered by it at all. In fact, he’d just said he wanted to marry me before the gathering.

In six days, I’ll really be his wife.

“Alright, then. We’ll marry, then go to the gathering, then you’ll join the council, is that right?”

“Yes,” he said. His gaze dipped to my mouth, then to the breasts crushed beneath my arms. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, his cock visibly twitched. My pussy clenched in instantaneous reply, and I squeezed my thighs together.

I was losing my resolve already, like the hot water was melting it away. I gritted my teeth and girded my loins, forcing myself to focus on things other than how much I wanted to wade over to Wylfrael, straddle his hips, and slide down onto his massive cock.

“You haven’t told me why you want to join the council in the first place. Only that you need their assistance. What’s your end goal with all of this?”

Wylfrael hesitated, and I got the sense he was trying to decide just how much he wanted to tell me.

“I deserve to know the truth, Wylfrael. As your wife, I should know your reasons for joining the council.”

“I need to find Skalla.”

Skalla…

“Is that Lord Skallagrim? Aiko mentioned him.”

He sighed. “I should have known she would have.”

“It’s not her fault,” I said quickly, worried now that I’d just gotten her in trouble. “I was asking her a whole bunch of questions.”

“Trust me, little bride, I know just how incessant your questions can be. I do not blame Aiko in the slightest, so you do not need to protect her, although,” his mouth curled up on one side, “it pleases me that you do.”

“Well, alright then,” I said, face hot and not just from the steam. I shouldn’t have cared about pleasing my alien groom…

But apparently, I did.

I waited, sweaty and squirmy, as the water reached my belly button.

“Skalla went mate-mad. His mother’s people, who are from Bohnebregg, are berserkers, which made his condition extra violent. He exploded into Sionnach, all berserker fury and madness, and would have laid waste to everyone and everything.” Wylfrael’s voice got hard. “I refused to let that happen. I fought with him across several worlds, but ultimately, was not successful in defeating him. He nearly killed me, and as I bled out, I opened a sky door to a random world I did not know. A world of deserts and dunes. I found a safe, dark place beneath a set of red mountains on that world, and fell into a deep slumber.”

Right. Aiko said he had been recovering all this time. But the reality of it hadn’t sunk in until now. Wylfrael, the strongest being I’d ever encountered in my life, had almost been killed. This Skalla guy must be insanely strong…

“Then what happened? You just woke up?”

I was no longer so terribly distracted by arousal and his cock. The story had drawn me in.

“I did. When Skalla burst his way into that desert world, as well. He’d been raging the entire time I’d been asleep, smashing his way through who knows how many worlds. I fought with him again and managed to open a sky door to Heofonraed. My plan was to bring him before the council because they are the only ones who’d have enough power to bind him. But they would not hear my petitions, and Skalla broke free yet again.”

“Wait, so he’s just out there somewhere now? Like, killing people all over the universe?”

I shivered, wrapping my arms more tightly around myself.

“Potentially, yes. Although, I have received a report that he is with his mate now. There is a chance his mate-madness has eased, but I cannot be sure. He may have been too far gone. He could injure his mate, even kill her. Although, if he kills her, that would end the entire problem. Though, even now, I still love Skalla, and would prefer that he not die.”

“Hold on, what do you mean? Is this because of the whole mates-make-you-mortal thing?”

“Yes,” Wylfrael confirmed. “The moment a stone sky god’s fated mate dies, so does he.”

“Whoa,” I said, shaking my head. Aiko had mentioned this but it still made very little sense to me. “But… how?” A new thought entered my mind, making me queasy with panic. “What if you’ve met your mate already? What if you’re mortal right now and you don’t even know it?”

It terrified me that this was a possibility. That someone else out there in the universe could get hit by a bus or get eaten by an alien monster and Wylfrael would just drop dead because of it.

“Worried about me, little bride? What about all those bold words earlier about poison and butter knives?”

“Just answer the question,” I shot back.

“Hmm. I’m not sure I will. I rather like how angry you look about the idea of my death.”

I ripped my arms down from my chest and hopped off the bench. It was deeper than I’d anticipated – I’d always just stayed on the benches during my baths before now. It was no big deal. I knew how to swim, though my head did go under the water for a second.

I didn’t even have a chance to swim back up and start treading water. Two hands grasped my waist, hauling me upwards and pulling me through the water. My knees hit tile, and I blinked water from my eyes, realizing Wylfrael had grabbed me and pulled me back to the bench he’d been sitting on. He was seated, hands still on my waist, and I was on my knees above him, straddling one of his hard thighs.

“You didn’t need to do that. I can swim. I wasn’t going to drown.”

“I wasn’t about to wait around and find out,” Wylfrael said gruffly. “Besides, I thought we were on the subject of my mortality and death, not yours.”

“Right. We were. So, how do you know you’re not mortal already?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” he said. A claw of pleasure curled inside me when his hands slid down to my hips, fingers kneading backwards towards my ass. I realized that I’d put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself at some point. Like this, he had a full view of my wet, bare breasts.

“Starburning begins the process,” Wylfrael said, his fingers continuing their deeply pleasurable massage on my ass. “In mortal females, starburning helps their bodies take our knots. In males, it begins our descent from immortality. But it isn’t until we give our mate our knot that the bond is sealed and the process is complete, binding a stone sky god’s life to his mate’s.”

“I still don’t know what the hell a knot is,” I panted. The quickened breath turned to a moan when one of Wylfrael’s hands shifted forward, his thumb rubbing my clit in relentless circles.

“It’s a thick bulge on the shaft of the cock. It doesn’t form until starburning starts.”

That made sense since I hadn’t noticed any bulges on him. Just perfect, starry smoothness. A horrible, inexplicable, ugly part of me was glad he had no knot because it proved that he hadn’t starburned for someone else yet. He wouldn’t be dreaming of, burning for, someone else while married to me.

God, I am losing my mind…

I pretty much did lose my mind when Wylfrael bent his head and sucked my left nipple into his demanding mouth. I arched, unable to stop myself, unable to hold back against the whirl of shuddering sensation that went from my breast to my clit.

Wylfrael’s thumb pressed harder, making me yelp. He drew his head back slightly, swiping a hot circle over my nipple with his tongue before he spoke, his voice dark and silky.

“You seem very preoccupied with stone sky god anatomy and mating rituals, little bride.”

I choked on a startled cry when he suddenly flipped our positions. I was still on my knees on the bench, but now I was gripping the edge of the pool for support instead of him. Wylfrael was behind me. He put one knee on the bench, on the outside of my right leg, his other leg holding him up as he stood behind me in the water. His fingers dug into my hips, shifting me to the side until, oh my fucking God, one of the water spouts, which was now a jet beneath the surface of the water, sent heated water rushing over my clit. I moaned, my hips twitching forward towards the extraordinary feeling of the water gliding over my sensitive, swollen nub. But Wylfrael’s fingers dug in deeper, holding my hips in place, perfect torture.

“Despite your protestations, it makes me think you might actually want me inside you after all,” he growled. “I thought about it earlier, watching you in the kitchen. Thought about ripping off your silk and holding you against me like this. Wanted to shove inside you from behind and find out how hard you’d grip me. You’re so tight, but I already know how sopping wet you can get for me.”

All I managed in reply was a strangled mewl. My clit pulsed, the water jetting over it in waves that made me quiver. I was already so close to coming, and the thought of Wylfrael wanting to fuck me in the kitchen almost put me over the edge.

“But don’t worry. I remember your rules.”

His cock nudged between my legs, making me flinch, but he didn’t try to press inside. I moaned, and this time, it was in complaint, my body completely forgetting the terms of our agreement, overwhelmed by the empty ache.

With a grunt, Wylfrael nudged his knee inward on the bench, forcing my right knee closer to my left. His cock was pinned between the tops of my thighs now. With a harsh breath that was more like a snarl, he started to thrust. His movements were quick and powerful, making my hips jut forward in time with him, driving my clit ever closer to the tantalizing stream of rushing water that stroked and swirled.

I was right about the stars on his cock. Even with friction and the motion and the water, I could feel the glowing points of them sending tiny vibrating whirrs of energy along my folds. My eyes rolled back in my head, my back arching. Wylfrael made me arch even further when he wound my hair around his hand and tugged my head back, baring my throat. My scalp burned, but it was good, so fucking good, a necessary counterbalance of pain against the exquisite pleasure between my legs.

Wylfrael’s other hand came up to the front of my throat, gently massaging, trailing his fingertips down my madly pulsing arteries, before his touch skimmed down to my left breast. He groaned, his cock throbbing between my legs, when my nipple hardened against his palm.

I held on tight to the tile because I couldn’t do anything else. Couldn’t do anything but arch and moan and come undone, completely undone, from his hands and his cock and the ruthlessly delicious current of water.

“I… I’m going to-”

“I know,” Wylfrael rasped, his hips slamming against mine. “Your breathing changes right before you fall apart. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, little bride.” His hand in my hair tightened, forcing my head even further back as he claimed my jaw with ravenous, groaning kisses. “I remember everything about you, Torrance. Everything.”

It was hearing my name in his lust-thickened voice that did it, that finally made me explode. “Little bride” often felt like a taunt. But my name was much more personal. Intimate. I wasn’t just some random woman he’d stuffed into this role. In that moment, he wanted me and only me.

I couldn’t make a sound when I came. My voice, my very breath, vanished. Wylfrael’s hand was on my neck again, his palm sealed to my throat, and for a second I wondered if that was why I couldn’t cry out. But he wasn’t squeezing hard enough for that. His grip there was seductively firm but ultimately gentle, a possessive cage and a caress all at once.

“Torrance,” he said again, a broken mumble against my ear, driving himself harder and faster between my legs. “Do you feel how hard you make me, little bride?”

I convulsed rhythmically, clenching around nothing, shivering, my voice finally returning in a whimpering, “Yes, yes, yes!”

He was so, so hard. Hard and satin-smooth and needy, throbbing with an ache so much like my own.

“Torrance!” Wylfrael’s harsh groans deepened, lengthening into gravelly moans. His hips lost their rhythm, speeding in an uneven, nearly frantic motion before he suddenly went rigid, his only movement now the jerking of his cock trapped between my thighs.

He’s coming, I realized in some far-off, orgasm-befuddled part of my brain. Wylfrael resumed his hips’ motion, rocking through his pleasure, breaths short and ragged. I tried to grip him with my thighs, to increase the pressure, but my muscles failed me, too weak from the hot water and from him.

I sagged in his embrace, my knees sliding apart on the tile. My head lolled, creating a sharp pain where Wylfrael held my hair. He released my hair quickly, then scooped me up. The sound of sluicing water told me he’d gotten out of the bath as I turned my face into his chest and closed my eyes. He crossed the room carrying me, and I nearly fell asleep from the rocking motion of it.

The next thing I knew, I was deposited gently on my back on the bed. A whisper of air over my body alerted me to the fact that Wylfrael had turned and walked away. I cracked my eyes open to see him striding back towards me, wet and naked and glorious, with a small soft towel in his hands.

“Stay still,” he muttered, coming to a stop by the side of the bed. I watched him through slitted eyes as he began to dry me off, starting with my hand, then moving up my arm to my shoulder. It was insane that I was even letting him do this. But I didn’t have the energy, didn’t have the will, to make him stop. It had been so long since someone had taken care of me like this, and I didn’t want it to end, even if it was Wylfrael who was doing it.

Or maybe I didn’t want it to end because it was Wylfrael.

Tomorrow, I promised fuzzily, sighing and letting my eyes fall closed once more. Tomorrow I’ll go back to being sane. I’m sure of it.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Wylfrael

As I stroked the towel along Torrance’s shoulder, I wondered if my bride had fallen asleep. Her eyes were closed, the look on her face a slack and dreamy one. But when the towel grazed her neck, she made a pleasant mmm sound that went straight to my cock and tipped her head back so I could have better access to her neck.

“Are you going to sleep here tonight?” she asked, her eyes still closed.

“Well, it is my bed,” I said.

She made another soft sound which made me think she wasn’t too displeased by this. That she maybe even wanted me to sleep beside her.

Well, good. I refuse to spend half my night staring at her from a crystal chair across the room and the other half staring at her standing beside the bed. If I’m going to gawk at her all night, I’m going to do it from the comfort of my own bed, lying right next to her.

I was already getting a head start on the gawking. My eyes roamed her bare body, from her flushed, glowing face, to the valley between her breasts that I slipped the towel down. She made yet another sweet, painfully erotic sound, and when my towel reached her navel, then travelled lower, towards damp and glistening curls, she moaned and spread her legs.

It was as if I’d never come at all. My cock thickened and surged, aching for heat. For her. Tension crackled down my spine.

There was no tension in Torrance at all. She was languid, luxurious, completely relaxed and spread on the furs, her lips parted, eyelashes resting on her reddened cheeks.

I abandoned the towel, wanting her wet beneath me, and heaved myself up onto the bed. I loomed over her on my hands and knees, one palm sinking into the fur, my other hand pressing fingers to her chin, turning her face towards me.

“I remember your terms, Torrance,” I breathed against her lips, “Now you must remember mine. I get to kiss you, anytime, anywhere.”

She surprised me by angling her chin upwards, seeking my mouth with her own. Her eyes remained closed – I knew this because mine stayed open. I couldn’t stop looking at her.

Her tongue was tentative and sweet, sliding slowly against mine. I allowed her this exploration just for a moment. Soon, the flames inside me would surge, and I would have to kiss her the way I wanted to – claiming her with my mouth because I couldn’t claim her with my cock.

But stone of the sky, how I wanted to. I eased myself down until I was flush against her, my shaft hot and stiff against her belly, her breasts crushed to my chest. She wrapped her arms around my neck, drawing me even closer, and her legs spread wider, a silent invitation. Agonized and aching, I wondered if this was my bride’s way of punishing me for everything I’d done. If, with lovely malevolence, she’d contrived to make me want her beyond sanity, beyond reason, only to deny me entrance.

The thought was a brief one. I could not hold onto it, could not think of much of anything now besides how deliciously soft and warm she was against me, how incredible she smelled, how I wanted to taste her everywhere.

Before the kiss deepened to a point where I would not be able to tear myself away, I broke it off, nipping down her jaw, her neck. I groaned in lurid fascination when the brush of my mouth made her nipple tighten, a succulent bud desperate to be sucked. I could not deny her, and I sucked the dusky bud into my mouth. Torrance gasped and writhed, her fingers burying in my hair.

She was so sensitive. Sensitive everywhere. So attuned to my every movement, my every touch. The press of my hand brought redness to her skin. The merest whisper of my lips made her lashes flutter, her breath catch. This hot, wet suction made her nipple hard and pointed in my mouth, made her hips roll against me in a dizzyingly sensual wave.

I no longer believed she was trying to punish me. In fact, as I sucked her breast, bringing her close to the point of climax from that alone, I thought it far more likely that if I pressed my dripping cock between her legs now, she’d welcome it. She would do it silently, without acknowledgement, pretending the entire time it wasn’t really happening, too proud to say she’d let me in even when she came, clenching, around me. Her thighs were spread so wide, her hips undulating desperately, as if I were already inside her. My cock leapt, a thrill running from my tail to my testicles, at the way she begged me with her body.

But I would not do it until she begged me with her words. Until she put aside her pride, or her purity, or whatever it was that kept her mouth stubbornly closed even while her legs were open.

I suckled one breast, then the other, then kissed wetly down her abdomen, pausing to run my tongue in a lascivious circle around her navel. Cursed stars, I was so aroused that even this tiny, shallow divot became erotic, a hole for me to fondle, for me to fill. I moaned and darted my tongue inside, and Torrance’s muscles tightened.

I would have happily stayed there all night, like a worshipful and inexperienced fool, if the scent of her arousal were not so tantalizing, dragging me lower with invisible claws, making me grunt and groan as my nose brushed her dampened curls. I gripped her inner thighs, my own breath burning inside me as I spread her wide.

I feasted on her first with my eyes, admiring the delicacy of the silken skin, from her sensitive little nub nestled at the top to the glistening entrance that did everything except speak with actual words to beckon me inwards. Before my eyes, Torrance contracted, her cunt constricting, a hot muscular pulse that I wanted to feel, not just see.

She said no penetration with my cock, I reminded myself, a wickedness unfolding inside me. Well, then I’d simply penetrate her with my tongue instead. Remind her how good it was to have a part of her betrothed inside her.

Hands like stone, fighting to keep them gentle, fighting not to bruise her, I dove inward. A long moan tore from Torrance’s throat as I kissed along her seam. Her taste and scent nearly made me come undone, nearly made me ejaculate right there on the fur. I locked everything down, ignoring the roiling and inevitable wave, growing higher and higher in my groin, and focused solely on my bride.

I sucked her nub, the way I’d sucked her breast, until she quaked. She was so close, my wanton little bride, but I didn’t want her to come like this. I wanted her to come while I was inside her. I slid down and dipped my tongue inside.

My eyes fell closed as I gave into the sensation of rutting her with my tongue. Just like last time, she was incredibly wet. Not all species had females who self-lubricated like this. Oftentimes it was the male who became lubricated, if penetration was part of reproduction at all, anyway. I’d had dalliances with females in the past who required separate lubrication. It had never bothered me, but I realized now just how much I loved this feminine wetness. This delicious slick that told me how much Torrance wanted me. There was no hiding her reaction, no way to conceal this slippery honey that spilled for me and only me.

I swirled my tongue, swiping and curling, until her inner walls began to shake. I could tell from her breathing, from the desperate sounds she made, that she was right on the brink of orgasm. I slid one of my hands upwards, splaying it along her pelvis, nudging my thumb against her nub while my drenched tongue stroked inside her.

Sionnach save me, I loved the view from down here. Loved seeing my own hand in a hot, possessive stamp across her pelvis. Loved seeing the arch of her spine, the trembling of her breasts, her head thrown back. The only downside was that I could not see her face from here, and I vowed that the next time I devoured her, she’d be propped up on the pillows so I could watch her face when she fell apart.

There was no time to change her positioning now. She was already falling, her fingers digging against my scalp, her hips gyrating wildly against my face. Flickering pressure descended on my tongue, milking, and once again I very nearly lost control, nearly spilled everything I had.

I wrenched myself away from her sweetness, rising up on my knees and nudging my head against the flowing moisture between her legs.

She stopped breathing, eyes wide, watching me, no doubt wondering if I were already about to break our agreement.

But I didn’t. I dragged my aching head up and down against her, drenching myself in her fluids. Then, my movements harsh and urgent, I grasped both her ankles and pinned them together against my right shoulder.

Her ankles were so slender I could hold them both with one hand. My other gripped the front of her left thigh as I shoved my cock between her legs the way I had in the water.

Torrance went completely boneless, sinking into the furs, her apprehension about me breaking our agreement oozing out of her. Her thighs trembled like the legs of a newborn sontanna in my grip, and I knew if I let go they’d immediately fall and splay the way her weakened arms were now thrown out to the sides.

Skies above, this was much better. Seeing all of her like this. Seeing her flushed, damp, beautiful little face, so sedated by the pleasure I’d given her, her eyes almost closed, but not quite, still searching for me even through her haze.

I slammed between her legs, my pace brutal and merciless. I made a feral, guttural sound as I watched the head of my cock slide in and out of her thighs, the soaked tip dragging through her curls. My balls slapped her rump with each jolt and thrust, and her breasts jiggled so enticingly that I couldn’t stop watching them.

And Torrance, it seemed, could not stop watching my cock. Her fevered gaze was pinned there, as if hypnotized by the driving movement of my shaft.

“Touch me,” I growled. I whipped my hand off her thigh and grasped her trembling arm by the wrist, guiding her hand to my tip. She sucked in a hot breath, and prickles of desire turned to huge, poisonous thorns inside me, piercing, drawing blood, when her hand formed a shaky circle for my cock to drive into.

There was absolutely no tension in her grip – she was too weakened by pleasure for that. But I was so far gone it didn’t even matter. Her feeble, loose fist settled, like a skimming net, around my tip, each of her delicate fingers a silken thread that bound me. Trapped me.

I did not even try to escape. I drove right into that trap, wanting more of it around me, wanting her to bind me so tightly that it hurt. Caught and cornered, giving myself completely over to her fumbling grip, I came, seed exploding out of me with the force of an avalanche, a natural disaster of the body.

My groaning breath fractured as I emptied myself onto her abdomen and chest, spewing all the way up to her throat, pale blue fluid coating her skin like a claim. A map on her skin, just like mine, but this one painting the path of desire, not stars.

I pumped a few more times as my stiffness faded. I released Torrance’s hand, but she did not let go. She slicked her fingers over my head, chin dropped to her chest as she watched in what looked like fascination, rubbing her own moisture and mine over my sensitive head.

“Do you like your husband’s cock, little bride?” I rasped, the question coming out much more ragged than I’d intended.

She took a shaky breath, then withdrew her hand, as if only now becoming aware of what she’d been doing.

“We aren’t married yet,” she whispered.

I did not reply. Did not tell her that I already felt like her husband, that she was already mine in the most irrevocable way. I did not tell her that she’d come to dominate my body and my mind. That I’d thought of nothing but her while away from the castle, and that I did not just watch her sometimes upon my late returns, but that I watched her for most of the night, every night.

I did not tell her that when I’d seen Brekken’s teeth snap near her hand I’d nearly lost myself in fear. The kind of fear I hadn’t even known myself capable of. The kind of fear that should have been reserved only for mated gods, for mortals, for those who had something to lose.

But it seemed now that I did have something to lose. And when Torrance reminded me that we were not yet married, reminded me that this was all just a bargain, a sham, it felt like I’d already lost it.

I released her ankles, and her legs dropped heavily to the sides, splaying open on the furs. Exposed like this on my bed, panting and spread and coated in my seed, she was so perfect it made me hurt, so perfect I wanted to roar.

I did not roar. At least, not out loud. Though the inside of my head was not a quiet place when I lowered myself off the bed. I grasped the towel I’d abandoned and tossed it onto her stomach, covering her and the stain I’d left upon her. Torrance lay still for a long moment, her breathing slowing, before she began to clean herself up. I clenched a sigh between my teeth, wanting to clean her up myself, but that was what a husband would do, and she’d already reminded me in very clear terms that that was not what I was.

Not yet, little bride.

Soon, we would marry.

And she would be mine for the rest of her ephemeral life.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Torrance

Agreeing to Wylfrael’s rule about kissing me whenever and wherever he wanted came back to bite me in the ass in a major way.  I was pretty sure my fiancé had some kind of kissing fetish. He kissed me in hallways, in stairways, in the kitchen, as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom in the morning. He kissed me in front of the others, making Shoshen turn away, tail fluffing up in embarrassment, while Aiko and Ashken smiled and Brekken jumped and barked in excitement, mates mates mates. Wylfrael also kissed me when we were alone, with no eyes on us. He kissed me every night in bed, which always deepened into something far beyond kissing.

And not even just in the bed, either. His mouth on mine seemed to strip me of all defences, all common sense, until I was letting him go down on me in the open in the middle of the castle, spreading my legs on stairs and in crystal tunnels, where anyone could have walked by and seen us. Torrance from before wouldn’t have recognized me now.

Sometimes, the kisses were teasing, taunting, often used as a tool to shut me up when I started arguing or asking questions my groom didn’t want to answer. Other times, the kisses were harder, more searching, like he was trying to pull something out of me or get me to admit to something. Like he was trying oh so hard to prove something, to me, to himself, without even knowing exactly what it was.

He tried to kiss me out of questions the day before our wedding when I once again asked him what he would do when I died. We were having a sleigh ride, the gorgeously carved silver crystal structure on skis pulled behind the sontanna, whom I now knew was named Barra.

When Wylfrael frowned and started kissing me in response to my question, I steeled myself, forced myself not to get swept up in him, and said the word I hadn’t had to use even once since we’d started our new agreement. Or, maybe I hadn’t really wanted to use it.

“Stop,” I said into his mouth.

The word jarred him, probably because he hadn’t heard it in so long. He paused, listening, his lips still against mine, as if waiting to see if he’d heard wrong. When I said it again, he pulled away, leaning back against the crystal bench, his arm along the back of the seat, his fingertips draped downward and winding in my hair.

“I want you to actually answer my question,” I told him firmly. “What are you going to do when I die?”

His mouth flattened. It would have been a grim, cold expression if not for the crackling heat of his gaze.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he said, tight irritation creeping into his voice. I hadn’t heard him sound that way in a while. He’d been lighter lately. More relaxed. Maybe even happier. I’d seen glimpses of who Ashken had described to me that night in the library. I’d begun to see who Wylfrael had been before he’d almost died, before he’d met me. I’d witnessed moments of grace, of generosity, of kindness coming through, when he spoke to the staff or the animals. Despite the tension of that first interaction with Brekken, he’d obviously grown to love that fucking dog. He got down on the floor and wrestled with him and went hunting with him, and I noticed he often saved a scrap or two of his dinner to pass to the hound when Aiko refused to give him any meat from the kitchen.

I tried not to notice too much – notice this side of him – because I liked it too much. But it became impossible not to notice when those moments of kindness were focused on me. Bringing me sweetened milk before I asked for it, or bristling with a frantic, frenetic sort of care whenever I stubbed my toe or got a headache. As Aiko finished working on various outfits for me, he carted them into our bedroom, finding places for everything, shoving his own clothing aside to fill his armoire when mine overflowed. And when he held up clothing or fabrics for me to try on now, it no longer felt like an exertion of power but rather an actual desire to clothe me, to take care of me, to see what I’d look like wrapped up in something he’d chosen just for me.

“We have to talk about it,” I said. “I will die eventually and we need to plan for that.” I was a practical sort of person. I’d agreed to marry him because it made sense to do so and would get me what I needed – my friends, my freedom. I’d also grown up without a mother and had recently dealt with the death of my father. I knew that these things – the big things, life, marriage, death – needed to be discussed and planned for properly.

“I mean, there are logistical considerations, right?” I asked. “How are you going to stay on the council? When I die, you’re supposed to die, too.”

A muscle ticked in Wylfrael’s jaw. The sleigh rocked gently beneath us, Barra serene and silent as she pulled us slowly through snow-laden forest.

Finally, Wylfrael answered, though every word was short and clipped.

“Most mated gods stay on the council until their deaths, but they do not have to. I only need to be there long enough to find out where the humans are and where Skalla is, and to use the council’s power to bind my cousin if he is still berserk. Once that is accomplished, and I learn more about what the council has been doing while I’ve been away, I can end my term and return here.”

My eyes widened. He’d never mentioned this before. That he could come back permanently. He’d hinted lately that he didn’t have to be at Heofonraed all the time like he’d previously implied. That he could come visit me here with my friends. That particular conclusion had come about without any more conversation, both of us settling on it in silence. My friends and I would eventually stay here together on Sionnach and not some other viable world. I told myself that it just made sense for us to do that, and that I also wanted to stay with Aiko and the others. I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with living in Wylfrael’s world, being close to him when he came back to visit.

“OK, so you’ll come back here, then?”

“I will come back here to live out the rest of your life with you.”

The biting certainty of his words shook me. The rest of my life. It was a vow. Like a marriage vow.

Trying to distract myself from how much that statement had knocked me off balance, I refocused on my original question. The one he seemed to be avoiding.

“Right, but what will you do after that?”

Lightning flashed through his eyes, a thunderous bolt of pain crashing down his features. He wrenched his gaze from my face and dragged his hand through his hair, mussing it and loosening the blue tie at the back. He looked ruffled. And, other than during particularly intense moments when we had our relations, he never looked ruffled.

He glared moodily out at the landscape. We were still trekking through the forest, the mountains on our right, snow-capped peaks piercing up into a cloudy sky.

His fingers dug deeper into my hair, catching around my throat and pulling me closer to him even as he looked away.

“I’d mourn you. For a very, very long time.”

I stared at him in profile. I hadn’t been asking about emotional things. I wanted to know the logistics of what would happen when I was gone and he was supposed to be dead. The Sionnachans knew enough about the mate bond to know he was supposed to die when I did. I’d merely wanted to know his plans.

He’d mourn me.

That was surprising enough. But even more surprising was his comment about a very, very long time. We looked at time completely differently, he and I. A lifetime for me was a mere moment for him.

A very, very long time to a stone sky god was eternity for a human.

Absurdly, tears pricked at my eyes. Not because I was thinking about my own death, but because I was thinking about Wylfrael grieving without me there to, to…

To what? Comfort him? Love him?

Before I could pursue that terrifying line of thinking, Wylfrael spoke again, granting me salvation via distraction.

“When you are gone, I will disappear. I will go into exile and hide on some forgotten world. I will have to do that eventually anyway, so I do not hurt anyone when I go mate-mad. I don’t have berserker blood like Skalla, which means in madness I likely won’t be strong enough to open any sky doors, and my star map may be gone by that time, anyway.”

“Hold on. Mate-mad? What does that mean?” He’d mentioned it when talking about his cousin. The Lord Skallagrim who’d nearly killed him. But I didn’t have an exact definition of the term and hadn’t known that he was susceptible to it, too.

Wylfrael still didn’t look at me, gazing with a dark expression at the beautiful snow and trees.

“If a stone sky god does not find his mate and claim her with his knot, he will eventually lose his mind.”

“That’s going to happen to you?”

Dread and panic combined in my stomach, a nauseating turmoil. So not only would he grieve me, he’d eventually go into exile and go insane, all alone?

Not long ago, I wouldn’t have cared. I even might have thought that Wylfrael deserved such a fate. But not now. Now…

Now, it broke my fucking heart.

“Wylf! Can you look at me, please?” My last word was a choking sob. At the change in my voice, he whipped his head towards me and caught my jaw in the cage of his fingers.

“Torrance-”

“Don’t do this!”

His eyes flared.

“Don’t do what?”

“Marry me!”

We stared at each other, him perfectly still, me shuddering with shaking breaths. Ours had never been a happy story, but now it was turning into a tragedy, right before my eyes. Marrying me, choosing me instead of his real mate, would doom him. I swallowed, tears flowing freely, realizing I’d just offered him everything. I’d offered to annihilate our deal. I’d give up my friends, give up my own freedom, to save him. So that he could live happily with someone else long after I was gone.

And what was that if not an act of selfless, stupid, downright fucking idiotic, love?

No!

I wasn’t sure what I was saying no to. What Wylfrael had told me about his future, or the idea that beyond all sanity, all hope, all sense of self-preservation, some part of me had gone beyond just merely caring for him.

Barely able to get the words out through the tears, I begged him. Begged him to end this. To find his real mate, no matter how long it took. To save himself an eternity of madness and pain and exile. Forget appearances, forget the deal, forget Skalla and the council and me.

All he said in reply was a softly-spoken, “I cannot.”

“Why not? Why won’t you tell me why you’re doing this?” I didn’t buy his claims about how finding his real mate would take too long. Not anymore, not now that I knew the stakes. Why would joining the council and finding Skalla sooner rather than later take precedence over saving his own sanity?

“Why won’t you find her? Why won’t you wait for her?”

But Wylfrael just repeated his phrase from before, the softness in his voice disappearing, hardening, warning me not to press further. “I cannot.”

I pulled myself out of his hold, wiping the fur of my cloak furiously along my cheeks.

“Can we stop? I want to get out,” I said. I was talking about stopping the sleigh ride and getting out from where we’d been sitting, but obviously, Wylfrael interpreted what I’d said differently.

“You cannot leave,” he snapped. “Our wedding is tomorrow. After that, we will attend the gathering of the gods as husband and wife, and then I will join the council. You are mine, Torrance.”

But you’re not mine.

I couldn’t say the words, because Wylfrael crashed his mouth to me. I thought about stopping him again, but I didn’t. Pain twined with pleasure, and I opened my mouth with a stifled moan, wanting to feel him, feel how real and solid and safe he was with me. I didn’t stop him, didn’t fight him, when he hauled me into his lap, my legs spread over his tense thighs. His mouth devoured mine, tongue claiming, groans rising up in his throat as his hands dug beneath my long wool skirt and tore away my new silk undergarments. I couldn’t even be angry that he’d ruined Aiko’s sewing, my need for him was so great. The need for him to touch me.

Despite the cold, Wylfrael never wore gloves. His hands were desperate and bare against my trembling thighs, stroking upward, breaking off the kiss with a vicious growl when he found me already slick for him. He sucked my neck, his tongue hot as he tasted my pulse and he slid a thick finger inside.

My arousal was so instantaneous and overwhelming it almost scared me. It was like a huge wave inside me, a tsunami in the dead of night, pure black, without the reflection of stars, rising and ready to crash. Ready to wipe out everything. I arched and whimpered and begged. Begged for more, and Wylfrael nudged another finger inside.

The stretch was a perfect burn. But I wanted more. In some terrible, clawing way, I wanted him to hurt me.

But I’d already learned by now that he wouldn’t. He kissed along my throat, letting me adjust to the breadth of his two fingers before he started moving them. I bucked helplessly and threw my head back when he added a third finger after a few moments.

Wylfrael’s other hand ripped away from my hip, rising to undo the cloak’s tie at the base of my throat. He eased it open, not enough for it to slide off my shoulders but enough to allow him rough, greedy access to my breasts. He touched me through my dress until my nipples ached and I was close to coming, until I couldn’t stop myself from tearing open the laces, exposing myself to his heat and the biting air. His mouth was ardent fire on my sensitized peaks, a shocking contrast to the winter all around us.

The sleigh hit a slight bump, sending me falling forward, my breasts crushing against his face. Wylfrael kept me there, burying his face in my chest, one hand still pumping inside me, the other splayed across my upper back. His lips and breath were harsh and needy, biting over to my right breast as I fumbled clumsily with the ties at the front of his trousers. Snarling, he pulled his hands away from me to do it himself, and I cried out at the shocking emptiness he left behind.

His shaft arched forward, thick and hard and already glistening blue at the tip, stars running down, illuminating swelling and veins. Wylfrael didn’t touch himself, instead reaching for me, but I moved too quickly for him to get his fingers inside again. Hiking up my skirts, my shattered heart on fire in my chest and in my throat, I pressed my heated core to his tip.

“Torrance.” My name was gruff with both need and warning. A reminder of terms and stipulations and everything I’d used to distance myself from him. But I didn’t want distance anymore. Not now, not when it felt like I was losing him, like I was the reason he’d be lost in the first place.

Wylfrael’s hands slammed down onto the curving crystal bench beneath us. Tendons and arteries jumped in his forearms, and cracks appeared like webbing under the silver surface.

He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t break my rule.

So, I broke it myself. What did it matter, now? After I’d already broken my heart?

I didn’t nod. I didn’t speak. I just sank lower and lower, sliding hot and wet until his tip was completely inside. Even after the preparation of his fingers, the stretch was agonizing, but it didn’t hurt enough for me to stop. I rocked, taking more and more of him inside until pleasure began to bite at the heels of pain. I chased the feeling, gritting my teeth and holding my breath as I drove myself downward, filling myself with him.

A vicious cracking sound filled the air, and I opened my eyes. A huge chunk of crystal had come away from the bench under Wylfrael’s grip. He swore and hurled it out of the moving sleigh before turning his burning attention back to me.

“Torrance,” he choked out, sounding like I’d never heard him sound before, sounding fucking broken, “if you want to stop, it has to be now.”

He wasn’t the only one who could use kisses to shut someone up. Legs trembling, pussy pulsing around him, already ready to come, I shoved my mouth onto his. It wasn’t an elegant kiss. It was messy and hungry and inevitable. As inevitable as Wylfrael’s hands rising to my hips, holding me in place as he unleashed himself upon me, slamming upward with incredible force that stole my breath from my lungs.

There was no holding back, no tenderness in his movements. Thank God, because that isn’t what I wanted anyway. I didn’t want his control. I wanted abandon. Oblivion.

Wylf’s mouth closed around the front of my throat, sucking hard, fangs grazing my skin, so close to biting down it made ecstatic fear turn bright and erotic inside me. I quaked everywhere – my arms as I looped them around his neck, my legs, and inside my core. He was so big, filled me so full, that my pussy couldn’t fully contract around him. He barely pulled out with each thrust, as if he couldn’t bear not to be inside me, which meant the pressure never let up, not even for a second. I wanted to come, to clench, but couldn’t, my muscles too overwhelmed by him, until I was sobbing with the need for release. Wylfrael kissed up to my tear-stained cheeks, trying to soothe me even as his cock strained deeper, the stars on his shaft creating tiny vibrations that echoed everywhere.

“Wylf,” I keened between sobs, “I need… I need…”

One of his hands dug beneath my dress, slipping along my groin until his thumb met my throbbing clit. He rubbed it in merciless circles, sliding through the wetness of my arousal as white-hot sensation expanded along the base of my spine. His thumb was as brutal as his cock, which left me wildly disoriented when his half-whispered, half-moaned words filtered into my brain.

“Little bride, beautiful little bride. Cursed stars, you don’t know how I’ve wanted you.”

My eyes fluttered closed as I completely gave myself over to him. I let the tension sag out of my legs, relying only on him to hold me up as he fucked me. I collapsed onto his chest, my forehead in the crook of his neck.

“Beautiful bride, Torrance, beloved, I-”

His words broke off in a snarl. I felt him throb inside, felt him explode, felt the groan that ripped out of him deep in my body. He pumped hard, the rock of his hips timed to every pulse and spurt. His mouth was open against my cheek as he swore, or maybe beseeched, “Save me.”

I’d heard the phrase before. The full saying was, Sionnach save me, an emotionally charged version of the more common saying, Sionnach preserve me. But he hadn’t managed all the words.

It sounded like he was asking me to save him. And I fucking wanted to. Wanted to save him from me and from himself.

But he wouldn’t let me.

I knew it, knew that he wouldn’t let me as I found release, every nerve winding up tight then whirling like tops let loose on a table. My muscles finally gained traction against him, clamping down with a vengeance, sealing him inside. The movement of his hips became less blindingly urgent and more sensual, languid, rolling endlessly, drawing out my orgasm until I cried again, but this time with pleasure.

Soon, everything slowed, until the only movement was the sleigh gliding along. Steadying my breathing and my shaking limbs, I lifted myself until Wylfrael slipped out. I pushed off of him, falling heavily onto the bench beside him, my skirt snagging on broken crystal.

“Torrance-”

“We should go back,” I interrupted.

But even as he turned the sleigh around, I knew that we couldn’t.

Not really.

Not anymore.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Wylfrael

Torrance didn’t speak on the ride back. She rested her elbow on the side of the sleigh, her chin perched upon her hand, watching the trees go by while I watched her. I thought that I should touch her, but she didn’t seem to want that now. I thought that I should say something, but did not know what.

We arrived at Barra’s enclosure in silence. I detached the sontanna from the sleigh, then helped Torrance down. I would have held her hand the entire walk back to the castle, but she pulled hers from mine as soon as her boots hit the snow.

We said nothing as we walked through the tunnel and climbed stairs together up to our bed chamber. Torrance hung her cloak by the fire instead of handing it to me to do it, and the cool independence in that gesture wounded me more than I wanted to admit. My wings pulsed as I watched her, her back to me, staring into the fire. Finally, her spine straightened, and she turned to face me.

Her face was pale and composed, smoothed of all the agony, all the need, I’d witnessed outside. She seemed a stranger to me now, like I had not just been deep inside her.

“It’s tradition not to spend the night before the wedding in the same room.”

“That’s convenient,” I snapped, irritation prickling. And not just irritation. Fear. Fear that she wouldn’t go through with this after all. That I could take everything away from her, leave no one and nothing else in her path but me, and that still she would not choose me. I was afraid she was lying, that there was no tradition, and that this was the first of many steps she’d take that would lead her away from me.

Don’t marry me, she’d said. She was looking for an out, masking cowardice as care for me, for my future.

“Convenient or not, it’s the truth,” Torrance said placidly. “I can go to another room if you want to sleep here.”

“No!” The word was a roar. It cracked her composure, making her flinch back. I smashed the distance between us with powerful strides, coming to a stop before her. I didn’t touch her with my hands, but my chest brushed hers on my wildly unsteady inhales. She’d mostly fixed her dress but hadn’t tied the laces all the way, revealing lush skin, skin I’d sucked and kissed and worshipped. She’d been so close! She’d given herself to me, and now, and now…

“I don’t believe you,” I hissed.

She turned her chin up, stared at me with those snow and honey eyes that got all the way inside me.

“I’m not a liar,” she said.

“That’s exactly what you are,” I reminded her viciously. “And like it or not, little bride, you’re my liar now.”

Her calm was torn asunder. She looked stricken, like I’d hit her, and I hated myself even while rejoicing in darkness that I’d finally broken back through to her.

“You’re right. I can’t even deny it, because you’re right,” she said quietly. She crossed her arms and turned around, putting her back to me again, staring at the firestone. “You’re supposed to marry someone who makes you better, but I swear that you’re making me worse.”

“And you make me weak!” I snarled. “So, I suppose, in this, we are even.”

Silence stretched between us until I finally could not stand it.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Say no. Call me Wylf again and say you want me.

She did not answer.

I turned around and left.

I thought about leaving the castle entirely but didn’t. I had something to finish before the wedding. It seemed a fool’s errand now. Something born out of ridiculous sentimentality. But I could not seem to abandon the task.

Torrance had told me once, the night we’d struck our bargain, that you did not tell someone to marry you, but that you gave them a ring and asked. The idea of asking her now was stupid. We would marry, it had already been decided. She’d agreed, and there was no going back now, no matter how she tried to pull away.

But the ring…

The ring had been something I could not get out of my head.

There had been nothing suitable in any of the Sionnachan villages I’d visited, so I’d resolved to make my own. I’d already crafted and discarded dozens of the things, none of them quite right. But the wedding was tomorrow, and if I was going to finish this, it had to be now.

I stormed down stairs and through the tunnel until I reached a small workshop in the servants’ area of the Day Tower. There was no one here now. Ashken and Shoshen were likely doing chores or completing last-minute wedding preparations while Aiko cooked the evening meal.

This room had an abundance of tools, none of which I used. I didn’t need to carve the crystal – I’d shape it with my own power. What I would use in this room, though, was the crystal itself. There were heaps of it, large shards and bricks in the corners, that I sorted through as I’d done so many times already, trying to find the perfect piece for her. It was probably futile – every ring I’d already made I’d discarded. If I hadn’t destroyed them all in exasperation, I could have brought them all up to her on a tray and let her choose. Brandished the rings before her as an offering when the other things I offered her no longer seemed enough.

But that would not have satisfied me, either. Because none of those rings had been right.

I found several pieces of silver and purple crystal that were admirably clear. I thought of making rings out of each, and seeing if either one of them suited.

But then it hit me – the reason the other rings had not appealed. It was because they were too simple. Each one crafted from only one tree, shining in only one colour.

If there was anything my bride wasn’t, it was simple. Winter and warmth, love and hate, fire and fury and softness and need. Weakness and strength. Lies and masks and truth. If I wanted to represent her and represent our union – Earth and Sionnach, human and stone sky – then I could not simply use a single shard.

Invigorated, I began again, drawing out piece after piece of crystal. I shattered them with my power, picking out tiny, shimmering shards until I had a glittering pile of purple, pink, silver, and green.

I worked all night, designing and moulding and refining. It felt good to throw myself into the task and let my mind go blank. Otherwise, I’d be left to my own thoughts. Thoughts about the vast and sprawling ecstasy of being inside her eclipsed only by how much I’d loved holding her, and then the striking pain of when she’d pulled away.

I was not supposed to feel pain when I thought of my fake bride.

I was supposed to feel nothing at all.

It occurred to me, as I held the ring up to the light, running my appraising gaze over it like a blade over a sharpening stone, that I had not felt grief about losing a chance with my real fated mate in quite some time. Torrance had taken over, fully invaded my life the way her people had invaded my world, so much so that even my pain was solely focused on her now. I thought of my fated mate, tried to imagine who she might be, and attempted to conjure the feelings I’d had when I’d first heard Rúnwebbe’s prophecy.

I couldn’t. I couldn’t reach back into that sorrow and rage. Couldn’t access it or make myself feel it. There was a numbing sort of dread, the feeling that my life had been knocked awfully off course, but I no longer mourned my real bride or my lost future with her. My fated mate was a faceless ghost to me now, but my false bride was here, real, beautiful and infuriating and mortal, so terrifyingly mortal that I wanted to hollow myself out and put her inside me if only it would protect her. I may have called her my liar, but this wasn’t a lie to me. Not anymore. At some point, my prisoner had become my partner, not just an ally but someone precious, someone beloved, Sionnach preserve me, save me, save me.

“My lord?”

I whirled, finding Aiko standing in the doorway. Late morning light I’d barely noticed seeped in through the room’s outer green wall.

“Yes?” I asked, my voice sounding harsh and croaking.

“Your wedding suit is ready.”

My spine straightened, my chin rising, as if I’d been called to battle. I curled the ring into my hand.

“Good. Let me see it.”

I followed Aiko out of the workshop and into the room where she completed the laundry and sewing. On a crystal table, laid flat, was the outfit she’d created for me. My Mistress of Affairs had seemed surprised, some days ago, when I’d asked her to find out from Torrance what human grooms wore to their weddings. I’d been a little surprised at myself, in all honesty. Surprised that I would stoop to the level of wearing what a pathetic human male might wear. But when I’d imagined Torrance’s face, her surprise and maybe even delight at the gesture, I’d found that my usual leather ensembles held no appeal.

I could not deny it. I wanted my bride to be happy when she saw me at our wedding.

Cursed stars. What a fool I have become.

Still keeping the ring safely tucked in one hand, I ran the fingers of my other hand along the fabric. It was all soft, smooth wool, dyed pure black, a suit comprised of a long-sleeved coat of sorts paired with matching trousers. Inside the coat was a crisp white shirt, and a long bit of blue fabric I did not recognize.

“What in the snows of Sionnach is that?” I asked, quirking a brow at the floppy blue silk running down the front of the shirt. A quick tug told me it was not attached to the shirt.

“I hope I got it right,” Aiko said, furrowing her brow. “Torrance said there’s something called a tie that men often wear to their weddings to signify formality.”

“What do you do with it?” I asked, lifting the oddly shaped, long silk piece. It got wider and then pointed at one end, like a sword.

“Apparently it is meant to hang around your neck, with the wide, pointed part aiming downwards.”

“Hmm,” I said, letting the pale blue tie fall back into place. “Thank you, Aiko.”

I draped the entire outfit over my arm. I considered going back to my room to dress – it was my chamber after all, and she was my bride, blast anyone who’d say I shouldn’t go there, shouldn’t see her.

But even while that thought churned in my head, I went back to the workshop, where I dressed alone and in silence.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Torrance

Ididn’t sleep well the night before my wedding. Probably a pretty universal experience for a human woman, when I thought about it, but likely not for the reasons that kept me up. I tossed and turned, thinking about the day to come, and what it meant for both of us. And, the thing that kept me awake most, even though I tried to push it away, was the fact that I missed Wylfrael. I’d wanted him to leave, and I’d wanted even more for him to come back. To sleep beside me as had become our custom. Wylfrael always got up before I did in the morning, but sometimes I woke in the night and found him curled around me, his face buried in my hair, sleeping soundly. I often wondered if the reason he got out of bed before me every day was so that I wouldn’t wake and find him like that.

Aiko brought me breakfast, excitement for the day making her chatty. She talked endlessly about the wedding, how much food they’d prepared, even though no one would be in attendance besides her, Shoshen, and Ashken. She told me that the ceremony would happen late this afternoon and that the feast would be directly afterwards.

She brought my gown in along with my lunch. I poked at the food, my eyes going to the flowing white fabric on the bed until I finally gave up on eating altogether. At least I wasn’t getting drunk on champagne on an empty stomach, like I probably would have on Earth. But champagne is something you celebrate with…

I didn’t feel like celebrating now.

I took my time getting ready, even though there wasn’t much to do. I didn’t have makeup, or styling tools, or hairspray. I knew my eyes were probably puffy and red, so I splashed my face with cold water. I’d had a bath last night and slept with my hair in a braid, and it cascaded around my shoulders in shiny waves. I could tell Aiko was bursting to help me with something, so I beckoned her over with a weak smile. Beaming, she helped me braid two narrow strips at the front of my hair and then tied them at the back, creating a sort of half-up, half-down style I wouldn’t have been able to achieve myself without a mirror.

After that, there was nothing else to do but actually get into the dress. My heart fluttered, batting around like a bird, when I walked towards it on the bed.

It was stunning. Truly, truly stunning. Something I knew would have cost thousands of dollars on Earth. Aiko had obviously listened closely to my first comments about the design and had made endless improvements over our various fitting sessions.

It was strapless, with a sweetheart bodice that flowed outwards into a luxuriously curved skirt, somewhere between an A-line and a ballgown. Aiko was a bit of a perfectionist, I’d learned, as well as an artist. She hadn’t stopped there, with the mere construction of the gown, but had also hand-embroidered the bodice with white silk thread in ethereally curling, twining shapes.

“Aiko, it’s perfect,” I breathed, knowing that she was standing there, practically holding her breath in anticipation of what I’d say. “I can’t believe how beautiful this is. You’re amazing.”

Her tail fluffed up in obvious, anxious pleasure.

“Let’s get it on and see how it fits,” she said, shying away from acknowledging the compliment.

She swept the gown off the bed and held it open for me. I shed the red silk robe I’d been wearing – the one I’d worn the first night Wylfrael had touched me, made me come – and stepped into it. As I did so, I noticed a few tiny stitches and beads sewn carefully inside the bodice. I’d learned enough from Ashken to recognize Sionnachan writing when I saw it, but couldn’t read the words.

“What’s that?” I asked Aiko.

“Oh… I hope you do not mind,” she said as she pulled the dress up around me. She moved in behind my back, doing up laces. “I added that. The words mean, ‘Blessed be the bride.’ I hope it is alright! I know it is not your custom. It is Sionnachan. I just wanted to give something to you, something that was just from me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes.

You will not cry. Not today, not now.

Instead, I turned, making Aiko yip with surprise. The half-done-up gown sagged downwards as I threw my arms around Aiko’s waist.

“Oh, Torrance, the gown! The gown!”

I wanted to tell her not to worry about the gown, that it didn’t matter. But it did matter, because she had made it. Had poured endless hours into the garment, just so that I’d like it. She’d hand-sewn a blessing on the inside.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling back and laughing shakily. “I definitely don’t want to wrinkle your beautiful work. I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.” For the gown. For caring. For being kind when I had no one else.

Aiko smiled and finished doing up the laces at my back. As she worked, I noticed there was still something white on the bed.

“Is that…”

“A veil? Yes! I am not sure if it’s quite right, though. I did my best based on your description.”

A veil. I’d mentioned it in passing to Aiko as a bit of human wedding trivia, not because I’d actually thought about wearing one.

When Aiko was finished doing up the dress, I went over to the bed, the lush, heavy skirt rustling with every step. I picked up the veil, a sheer, weightless rectangle of white silk. It was thin enough that I could see my fingers through it. There was a curving crystal headpiece attached that I could nestle among the two braids Aiko had helped me tie.

Instantly, I knew I’d wear it. It would be a barrier, blurring the world around me. Something to hide me, to protect me, to save me from reality.

“I must go finish preparing the feast for after the ceremony,” Aiko said. “Would you let me see the front of the dress, so I can make sure it is alright?”

“Of course,” I said softly, letting the veil fall back onto the bed. I lifted the skirt, being careful not to step on it, and faced her.

“Oh, Torrance, you are lovely. I’ve never been to a wedding, but I’m sure that you must be the most beautiful bride there ever was!”

“I agree.”

Both Aiko and I jumped and looked towards the door. Wylfrael was draped there, leaning with one arm up against the doorframe, the other down at his side with his fist clenched, as if holding something tightly.

Aiko said something else about the food, something I barely registered, and slipped past Wylfrael, leaving us alone.

I wanted to turn away from him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop staring at him.

He was exactly as I’d pictured him, bulk and power turned svelte by a perfectly-tailored dark suit. He even had the white shirt beneath, and the tie to match his eyes. His hair was smooth and tied-back, his leather boots freshly polished. He was stunning. He literally stunned me, left me still and stupid and breathless, unable to say a word.

Much like the veil, when Aiko had asked about what men wore to weddings in my culture, I’d figured she’d just been asking out of curiosity. Never would I have imagined that Wylfrael would actually agree to wear something like this, something human. I’d pictured him in a suit, but realistically assumed he’d wear his own clothing.

What did it mean, that he was dressed like a human man when he found humans so detestable and weak? Was it meant as some sort of taunt, like a predator turning the skin of its prey into a trophy?

Or was it an olive branch, however wilted and broken? A message meant for me?

When I found myself able to speak, that wasn’t what I asked him. Like an idiot, my voice sounding pathetic, instead, I asked, “Do you like the dress?”

The question had apparently been an invitation into the room. He strode in, his sky-fire eyes never leaving me.

He stopped before me, close enough to overwhelm me with his presence but not close enough to touch, and said, “Yes.”

My reaction to his body so close was instant and inescapable. My breath came quicker, my cheeks feeling warm. The time I’d spent in bed alone, wanting him to hold me even as I wanted him as far away as possible, had become a hard ache inside me. That ache turned sharp, like a blade, as I stood before him.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

I can’t believe after everything that’s happened we’re standing here talking about dresses.

“Yes. It’s perfect,” I said, smoothing my hands over the fitted bodice. Wylfrael’s gaze followed my movements, and his wings twitched, making air swish around me.

“Though, I have no idea what I actually look like in it,” I added. I could tell by feel alone that it fit beautifully, and that would have to be enough.

Wylfrael turned from me to face the nearest section of silver wall. He held up his hand, jaw tightening and eyes narrowing. Confused, my gaze went from him to the wall and then back to him again. He was doing something… Using his power to…

I gasped when I looked at the wall again. Where the rest of the room had a roughly carved, multi-faceted surface, the area Wylfrael focused on was becoming flat. Smooth. Something began to emerge from the wall – an image. Blurry, but growing more distinct every second.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Anyone who does not see you now, in your entirety, will have suffered a great tragedy,” was all he offered in response.

He’s making a mirror.

A few more seconds, and it was done. The wall gleamed, a perfect mirror, reflecting the two of us back out into the room.

I had been right about not being able to handle seeing myself like this. I clapped my hand over my mouth at what I saw. I looked like a bride. A real, actual bride. Like someone from a movie or a magazine. And there was my groom, alien and magnificent, not looking at the knee-weakening beauty of his own reflection but solely focused on mine.

I lowered my hand and forced myself to breathe.

“It’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding,” I offered weakly.

“I do not believe in luck,” Wylfrael said.

Normally, I didn’t, either. But at this point, I figured we needed all the help we could get.

“Besides,” Wylfrael said, “I wanted to give you this.”

Before I could see what it was, he lowered himself to the ground. On one knee.

It was a ring. He held it up between us.

“You remembered,” I said, shocked to my core. I’d only said the thing about getting down on one knee with a ring once. I’d never mentioned it again.

“I’ve already told you, Torrance. I remember everything about you. Everything you’ve ever told me.”

I swallowed, my throat feeling thick and hot, and stared at the ring. He held it up carefully between his thumb and forefinger so I could see almost the entire circle of it, even though it was so tiny in his grip. It was crystal, crafted with what looked like dozens, no, hundreds of minuscule shards fitted together, creating a rainbow of cascading fire all along the loop. It wasn’t gold, it wasn’t diamond. And it was more beautiful than anything I ever could have imagined.

“I told myself I would not do this,” Wylf said. “I told myself that the deal was done. That I would give you this ring, but I would not ask. But now… now…” His voice grew deep and raw. “Now I find that I must hear your answer.”

“My answer?”

A nearly imperceptible tremor went through his hand, his finger and thumb twitching against the ring.

“Are you going to go through with it, Torrance? Will you marry me?”

“Would anything change if I didn’t?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” he said. “My life would end the same, whether you marry me or not. I will not find my true mate, and I will go into exile to keep the Sionnachans safe from my mate-madness.”

“I wish you’d tell me why,” I said softly, even though I knew by now he wouldn’t. “Well, if my marrying changes nothing in your life, it changes things in mine,” I reminded him. “It’s part of our deal, remember? Finding my people, and my freedom.”

“No,” Wylfrael bit out. His entire being seemed to thrum with tension, tail fluffed up, wings pulsing, the ring vibrating with the pressure of his shaking arm. “No.”

“No?” I echoed. “What do you mean, no?”

Was he taking it all back? Had he just been pretending this entire time, dangling the things I wanted most in front of me like a toy I couldn’t have?

“I mean that I offer those things freely to you now.” Finally, he stood, as if he couldn’t bear being down on his knee any longer. In a movement that should have been graceful for him but was rough, nearly clumsy, he found his feet and grabbed my hand. He dropped the ring into my palm, then closed my fingers over it.

“Put it on, or don’t. Marry me, or don’t.”

What? What?

My heart slammed as confusion spun inside me, whipped into a frenzy by Wylfrael’s next words.

“I’ll give you everything, Torrance. Everything. Blast the bargain, I’ll still give it all to you. Safety. Your friends. Freedom. Without the council’s help, I can’t guarantee I’ll find the human ship in your lifetime, but I promise you that I’ll search for as long as it takes.”

“But… but the Sionnachans already think…”

“I can figure out a way around that,” Wylfrael grunted. “No other stone sky gods know that I’ve apparently found my mate. They would have found out tomorrow, at the gathering.”

“But… Skalla. Even if you can find him on your own, don’t you need the council to deal with him if he’s still berserk or mate-mad or whatever’s going on with him?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But I’m no longer willing to trap you in order to save him or anyone else.”

He’ll set me free.

He would really do it. I could see it in the hard set of his jaw, his unyielding gaze. He still held my hand, and I held the ring, beautiful and hard, fisting it so tightly I knew it would leave a mark against my palm.

Any sane person would have taken his offer and run. No more being his little wife, no more confusion, no more fights, no more bargains or terms or kisses or loving him even though it didn’t matter, even though it meant nothing in the end…

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice falling to a choked murmur.

“I-” He clamped his teeth together, breathing out between them as if barely stopping himself from saying something he thought he might regret. “I just want you to choose.”

He let go of my hand, and I felt cold without his touch.

“Everything for the ceremony is prepared in the library,” he said, his voice smooth and calm, but firm, like he was making a most sacred promise. “I will go there now and I will wait for you, Torrance. I will wait there for you, at the end of the aisle, for as long as it may take. If you do not come, then I will have my answer.”

Now I was the one who shook, throat closing with tears so that I couldn’t even call his name as he turned away from me and left the room.

I watched the open doorway for a long, long time, then looked at myself in the mirror. As I took in my reflection – my pale face, glistening eyes, my human body wrapped in a dress from another world – I wondered who I was anymore.

And who I’d choose to be.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Wylfrael

Iwaited so long for my bride in the library that I began to fear I’d made a terrible mistake. I stared at the library’s door so hard that the crystal sometimes shuddered with flickers of power I hadn’t meant to unleash upon it.

Maybe I should open the door myself, I reasoned, though I knew it was not reasonable. Maybe she’s already come and she’s on the other side, but the crystal’s too heavy and she can’t open it like this. Maybe, maybe…

But no. There was no maybe about it. If she had come, if she was on the other side of that door, I would have heard her. Plus, small as she was, she was perfectly capable of opening a door.

Even knowing all this, I did end up smashing open the door with my power from my place at the end of the aisle. If she chose to come here and marry me, I did not want a single barrier in the way that would make her pause, that would give her the chance to stop and think and turn back.

“My lord?” Aiko asked.

She was on my left. Shoshen and Ashken stood on the other side of the long, white fur carpet that had been placed here specially for the ceremony. We were in the centre of the library. I stood in front of the huge crystal-grated firestone, and all the chairs and pillows had been moved to the sides. Brekken was there, too, seated between Ashken and Shoshen, long tongue lolling out.

When I didn’t answer Aiko’s vague question, the hound added in his own.

“Where pretty pretty two leg Torrance? Where mate? Where mate?”

“Perhaps I should go help her,” fretted Aiko. “Perhaps she needs assistance with her dress. Maybe I made the skirt too heavy and long after all…”

“The dress is perfect and she is fine,” I snapped, silencing everyone, even Brekken, who only ever seemed to be quiet when sleeping or trying to sneak up on prey.

But Aiko’s question made my gut tie itself up in even tighter knots than it already was. What if she’d tripped? Twisted one of her flimsy human ankles on the stairs, and that was why she did not come? Not because she’d chosen not to, but because she couldn’t. Had she eaten enough today? What if she’d gotten dizzy and collapsed? What if some unknown human ailment had suddenly struck her down, and I had no idea because she was mortal and I was not, and maybe I didn’t truly know her, maybe I’d never know her, know her in the deepest ways so I could give her what she needed.

What do you need, Torrance? Tell me what to do and I will do it.

I should have told her that in the bedroom. I should have fought harder, made my case, made her want to choose me. At the time, I’d not wanted to sway her answer. I’d not wanted to try to persuade her or pressure her. I’d made my offer, and I’d slayed every instinct inside me as I’d done it. Instincts that told me to force the ring onto her hand, to hold her against me so tightly she’d never be able to work herself free. I’d wanted to kiss her. She’d looked so perfect, and I’d wanted her so badly, wanted to burn the image of her in that dress into my memory so I’d remember it when I ripped it off her.

But I hadn’t done any of that. I’d simply said my piece and walked away in silence, even while I howled in my own head.

And now, I waited. And now, she did not come, and I knew I should have submitted to the howling, submitted to the instincts that told me to bind her as tightly to me as I could. I should have kept her trapped, should have never let her choose, because now she was choosing and she was choosing to leave.

To leave me.

She’d still be here on Sionnach. But she would not be mine. I hadn’t thoroughly considered that when I’d made her my offer. I hadn’t considered anything, really. But now I did. I thought about her living in this castle, untouchable and oh, so beautiful. She might even grow to love someone else, might not stay in this castle at all, and I would be the trapped one, then, in my towers of crystal, staring out at a world that no longer made sense.

I thought of all this, and agony rose in my throat. Agony I hadn’t known since the deaths of my parents and the day Rúnwebbe had told me of my fate.

Something inside me was cracking so loudly that the sound echoed in the room. I breathed heavily, staring down at my hands, wondering if my star map was finally going to vanish. There had to be an outward sign of how I felt, a physical manifestation of the darkness closing in.

The sound grew louder, longer, turning from a crack to a creak. I counted the stars on my palms until Aiko’s soft mutter of, “Oh! There she is,” made me tear my gaze away.

I swallowed hard, jaw working. The cracking and creaking wasn’t happening inside myself. It was Torrance, standing in the open doorway, pulling the door open even wider than it had been before.

I’d already seen her in her dress, but seeing her again, now, in light of the choice she’d made, walking towards me, wanting me, wanting me, I was struck speechless. I straightened. She looked a little different this time. There was a face covering of sorts, a veil of thin Sionnachan silk that largely obscured her features. Its edge brushed her bare collarbones, and I wanted to tear it away. To see how she looked. See if she looked…

Happy.

I lowered one of my hands, then extended the other to her. She was only halfway to me, but I could not wait for her to get here, already stretching to touch her, to make sure this was real.

It seemed to take forever for her to reach me, a disconcerting experience for an immortal who swallowed eons like breaths. But it did not matter. I had waited for her to come and now she had come. I could wait a few heartbeats longer. That’s what I’d promised her, after all. That I’d wait for her. For as long as it took.

Torrance finally reached me, her footsteps silent on the fur carpet. Her head dipped, her veil rustling against her creamy skin, as she looked at my hand.

She took it.

And I felt like I came back to life again. I closed my fingers and thumb over the back of her hand and tried to see her through the veil.

“Is that meant to stay on the entire time?” I asked her, my voice sounding nearly hoarse. “I want to see you.”

Torrance gave my hand a squeeze, then raised her other hand to pull back the veil, settling it in a shimmering wave over her hair.

There she is.

My little bride, my accomplice, my beloved. My snow-and-honey-eyed girl. Mine, mine, mine.

Her eyes glimmered with what appeared to be tears, but her face glowed with ethereal calm. Maybe even peace. It was the first time I’d ever seen her look so serene. Like she felt she was standing exactly where she was meant to be. It was not the look of a prisoner who’d crawled back into her cage.

It was the look of a woman who’d chosen freely, and who believed she’d made the right choice.

I drew her hand to my mouth, running my lips along her knuckles, noting the contrast of the cool crystal against her warm skin.

“You’re wearing the ring,” I said against the back of her hand. I could not bear to ask her if she liked it. Not yet, not now.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Thank the cursed snows of Sionnach.

“But I don’t have a ring for you,” she added.

“I don’t need your ring,” I breathed. “Just your vow.”

I knew from Aiko that there were vows in a human ceremony, though I had no idea what the actual words were supposed to be. I tried to form sentences, but they turned to ash and dust in my head, burned away by the sheer relief of seeing her here. Of having her standing before me, lovelier than starlight, happy with her ring, her groom, her life.

Luckily, I did not need to find my own words. Because my bride shared hers.

“I, Torrance Hayes, take you, Wylfrael, to be my lawfully wedded husband. In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for as long as we both shall live.”

She gazed at me expectantly, and I repeated the words back to her.

“I, Wylfrael of stone sky and Sionnach, take you, Torrance Hayes, to be my my lawfully wedded wife. In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for as long as we both-” Torrance inhaled unsteadily, and my voice cracked, “-shall live.”

“I promise to love you.” Her voice had lost its solidity and a waver crept in.

“I promise to love you,” I echoed.

“I promise to cherish you.”

“I promise to cherish you.”

“From this day forward. ’Til death do us part.”

“From this day forward. ’Til death do us part,” I vowed. I could no longer stand there and merely hold her hand. I dropped her hand, my fingers rising to cup her delicate jaw. She sighed through a thick throat and turned her face up to me as I pressed my forehead to hers and closed my eyes. I found myself speaking, my own words finally forming out of the darkness. “For this day and all days. For this night and all nights. I will love you, Torrance. Every moment. Every breath. Every heartbeat. Even if it’s only half of one.”

No doubt Aiko and the others wondered what I meant by half a heartbeat. But it didn’t matter if they understood or not. Because Torrance did.

Her hands went to my waist, then slid upwards, palms resting against my chest.

“I promise you the same.”

We stood locked in the embrace, and everything else disappeared. There was only Torrance and me and the choices we’d made. Her face in my hands, her breath on my skin. Husband and wife. Perhaps not fated, but mated anyway.

“Now what?” I asked her, unsure if there was anything else left to do.

She smiled, drawing her hands up high to wrap around my neck.

“Now you kiss me.”

Finally, a human custom I could appreciate. My smile mirrored hers as I bent down to kiss my wife for the very first time.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Torrance

Aiko had prepared enough food for ten times our number. A long crystal table in a dining room at the base of the Eve Tower was laden with meats, cheeses, various breads and pastries tinted the usual Sionnachan red. Even the wedding cake, that I’d described to Aiko, was tinted red from their flour. A while ago, I might have considered such a thing an omen. The cake to celebrate my wedding to Wylfrael the colour of blood. There was no frosting, just some kind of sticky honey glaze, which meant the red was on full display on the table.

But it didn’t bother me now. In fact, it seemed rather fitting. Blood and beauty, sweet honey and violence. Just like him and me.

Wylfrael eschewed the head of the table, sitting beside me, dragging his crystal chair so close that I could draw the back of my slippered heel along his shin bone. Aiko, Ashken, and Shoshen sat across from us, chatting merrily and drinking ale until their tails and ears began to droop with the effects of the alcohol.

Wylfrael chatted, too. He was easier and more relaxed than I’d ever seen him, a grin almost never leaving his face as he talked and slipped an effervescently grateful Brekken slices of meat. He was Earth-shatteringly (or Sionnach-shatteringly, I supposed) handsome like this. Smiling in his marvellous suit. I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him as I ate and laughed and conversed, and more often than not, when I looked at him, his eyes were already on me.

“Excuse me,” I said, after devouring a second slice of the strange-looking and absolutely delicious cake. I’d been so nervous all day that I’d basically forgotten to pee for hours. “I’ll be right back.”

I left the dining room feeling Wylfrael’s eyes on my back the entire time.

I used a bathroom located near the dining room but realized I wasn’t quite ready to go back to the festivities just yet. The quiet was soothing, a velvety ebb over my skin punctured only by footsteps on the crystal and the swish of my skirt. I found myself climbing stairs, up, up, up, then through the tunnel and up further, past the bedroom I shared with Wylf until I stepped into the conservatory. All was dark and silent here, and I breathed out into the cool and lightless air, letting my eyes adjust. As they did, the starfinder came into view at the centre of the room. I smiled softly, remembering Wylfrael in there. The night it had fully sunk in, the kind of commitment I’d be making to him. The night that, even though I’d been grief-stricken, even though I’d thought I hated him, I’d cried in his arms and fell apart against his hand.

That seemed a lifetime ago. Wylfrael would have snorted at that, no doubt. At my puny human reasoning, my minuscule scope of time. But so much had happened since then. The wedding that had merely been a means to an end for both of us had become something different.

He had become someone different. He would have let me go.

And I had become someone different, too.

Because I’d chosen to stay.

I couldn’t even hide behind excuses like wanting to help Skalla and my friends with the council’s help. Those were benefits of this arrangement, certainly. But when I’d taken the first step towards the library, when I’d stepped through the door and walked down that aisle, I was doing it because Wylfrael stood at the end of it. Waiting for me, just like he’d promised he would.

“I thought I might find you here.”

For once, I didn’t jump out of my skin at the sudden sound of Wylfrael’s voice in the doorway.

“Hello, husband,” I said, my voice getting surprisingly choked up as I said it. I’d managed to stay mostly tear-free during the ceremony. There had been a moment, walking down the aisle, when the absence of my father at my side had made my eyes sting and my chest squeeze. But I’d just kept my watery gaze on Wylfrael and his outstretched hand through my veil, finding strength in the sight of him.

“Hello, wife,” he said. I flushed at the greeting. I’m somebody’s wife, now.

Wylfrael came up behind me, both of us facing the starfinder. I sighed and leaned back against his solid warmth.

“I had something like this back home. A telescope. My father gave it to me. It’s still in his house.” The soft smile that had danced on my face pulled downward. “I wish I could look through it just one last time.”

“Do you want me to turn on the starfinder?” Wylf asked, his hands sliding up my bare arms and coming to rest on my shoulders.

“No, that’s alright,” I said. If we opened the roof, it would get too cold in here to stay much longer, and I was enjoying being here with him. I didn’t need to take solace in the stars. I wanted to be right where I was.

“Torrance,” Wylf said. He gathered my hair in his hands, inhaling against it before draping it over my right shoulder and speaking against my left ear. “I need you to know that everything I said at the ceremony was true. It was not a show for the Sionnachans. It was real.”

I shuddered, my throat constricting. I nodded, my ear moving against his mouth as I did so.

“It was the same for me.” I laughed. “Against all better judgment, Wylfrael of the stone sky and Sionnach, I seem to have fallen completely in love with you.”

He groaned, long and low, against me, as if he’d been waiting, holding his breath, to hear exactly that.

“You are my beloved,” he said, softly yet fiercely. “You have been for quite some time. Far longer, I think, than you have loved me.”

I snorted.

“You’re telling me, Mister Watch-You-While-You-Sleep,” I said, leaning my head back against his chest.

“Forgive me for the times I loved you and did not know it,” he murmured. “I may be older than you, but in this, I have very little experience. I’ve had relationships before, but I’ve made it a point never to love a mortal. Until now.”

“What changed?” I breathed, goosebumps rising as his lips pressed against the side of my neck.

“You,” he breathed. “You changed everything, Torrance. I’m still wondering what magic you’ve unleashed upon me. Every thought I have is shaped like you. Every breath I breathe tastes like you. I am bewitched, maybe even broken, but I find I do not care as long as I can have you.”

I shook my head, my hair rubbing against his lapel.

“I’m not a stone sky god,” I reminded him. “Or a Riverdark mage. I’m just a human. No magic,” I said.

“I beg to differ,” he said, sliding his hands down to grip my waist. “You’re like a new star in my world. Beloved. Bright. So beguiling that I am on my knees before you, hoping you’ll turn just a little of your light on me.”

I really was going to cry now.

But before I did, I had to tell him something. Make sure he understood.

I spun in his grasp, placing my hands on either side of his jaw and looking directly into his searing blue eyes.

“Everything I’ve told you is true, Wylf. Everything. I wasn’t lying about how I came here, how I was abducted. I just need you to know I’ve been honest with you about that. I didn’t lie.”

His brow contracted, his mouth twisting.

“I believe you.”

I let out a breath, reeling with the relief of his words. My hands slid down to his chest as I sagged forward. I hadn’t realized just how much I needed him to believe me about this. For him to really, truly hear me. See me.

“I am sorry I didn’t before,” Wylf said, vicious regret tightening his words. “I am sorry for many, many things. Your imprisonment. Your pain when I gave you Rúnwebbe’s webbing. I can change none of it now.” He lifted my chin with a gentle touch, his gaze bright with pain and promise. “But I can vow, with all the sincerity and solemnity of the stone sky and Sionnach, that I will do everything in my power to make it up to you, beloved. I will spend every single day, every moment, fixing things. Building and repairing and loving you. Until our marriage, our life, is as beautiful as you are.”

He lowered, and I thought he would kiss me, but he spoke again, his words a physical touch on my lips.

“We began in ruins, you and I. But I swear to you that we will end in splendour.”

This would end, someday. He knew it, and I knew it. I’d die, and he’d go into exile. But it just made here, now, all the more important. One life to live, to love. One half a precious heartbeat to make it all count.

I rose on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his, open and wet, inviting and searching. He answered with barely restrained need, surging into my mouth with his tongue, his fingers turning to iron against my skin.

This time, there were no questions, no rules, no hesitations. The dress was stripped away, and Wylfrael laid me down on it tenderly before spreading my legs and dipping his tongue inside me. As I moaned and writhed, I had the dizzying feeling that I was floating, high above the floor, caressed by a frothy, silky cloud lit by starlight.

In a way, I was lit by starlight. Wylfrael’s wings beat in the air behind his custom-made suit, an entire sky for me to stare up at while he circled my clit with his tongue and worked his fingers inside. My breasts and body were blue and glowing with him as I came, shuddering, against his hot mouth.

The azure light intensified as he rose up, leaning over me, positioned between my legs, priming his cock with my slick arousal. I whimpered my husband’s name as he worked his tip over my convulsing entrance, and his hips flexed forward, an unintentional shiver of movement.

“Not yet,” he rasped. “Want to make sure you’re ready.”

“I am,” I murmured. I ran my hands down his body, sliding my fingers under the waistband of the trousers he hadn’t even fully taken off in his hurry. I gripped his hips, trying to pull him into me. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking drunk on desire. He lowered himself onto his elbows, his mouth roaming across my chest to my right nipple in a movement that was somehow both worshipful and greedy, like I was something sacred and something to be devoured all at once.

“Wanton little wife,” he rumbled, his voice sliding over me like dark chocolate, rich and heated and making my insides tighten. “So beautiful in her need for me.”

“I do need you,” I panted, my fingers digging into his ass, my hips pulsing against him. That first orgasm had barely made a dent in my arousal. If anything, it had only stoked the flames higher and higher, until I thought I’d be consumed. I threw my head back, hair tangling against white silk, when Wylf suckled my breast, pulling the tip into a taut, aching peak. His tongue was a hot demanding swirl over my nipple, his cock a teasing prod right where I wanted him, just not deep enough.

“Wylf,” I choked out. I could feel reason slipping away, everything I thought and everything I knew being reduced down to pure, primal feeling. Silk below me, Wylfrael above me, and the desperate need to be filled. My hands ran all over him, moving of their own accord, squeezing his ass, running up his suit-clad back, then back down, petting the soft fur of his tail. He seemed to like that. He made a sound of dark delight deep in his throat as my fingers sank into the thick fur, and his cock jumped against me, nudging inside of its own accord.

Having that little bit of him inside me nearly made me come again. My breath caught, escaping my throat in desperate little sounds that I could not hold back. I gyrated helplessly against him, tightening with anticipatory pleasure even as I knew I needed to loosen, to open enough to take him.

“Save me, you’re so tight,” Wylf bit out against my slick breast. He said it like it would make him slow down, hold back, or maybe even stop. But even as he said the words, he braced his straining quads against the backs of my spread legs and began the long, beautifully torturous slide inside me.

I cried out, my fingers tightening on his tail, as if I wanted instinctively to pull him back, pull him out. Not because it hurt, but because I felt I was completely losing myself. That I was splitting apart, atom by trembling atom, to be scattered among Wylfrael’s stars.

“Open your eyes and watch me, wife.”

His voice was thick, a raw command that had me cracking open my hazy eyes.

“I want you to look at me this time,” he said, chest heaving, eyes licking frost and fire over my face. “You didn’t before.”

“Did… did you want me to?” I stammered. I remembered how I’d let my head fall forward on him in the sleigh while he’d slammed up into me from below.

“Yes.” The word lengthened into a hiss as he sank deeper into me. “And after, too, on the ride back. Stone of the sky, how I longed for you to look at me.”

I’d been too confused and distraught to look at him then.

I looped my arms around his neck, locking my gaze onto his.

“I’m looking at you now. I see you, Wylfrael.”

I thought he was going to be the one to break eye contact first. A violent tremor overtook him, and his eyes slid closed. But not all the way. He pinned me with a slitted, glittering gaze as his hips began to pump. My entire body screamed with the sensation of how filled I was. Even my breath seemed too much for my lungs, and it rushed out of me as if to make more room for him. There was probably something pathetic, maybe even toxic, in that. In the fact that I didn’t even care if I breathed, didn’t care if I had to move everything else in my body aside, as long as he was in me.

The silk loop tying back Wylf’s hair came undone, his silver strands falling down on either side of our faces like shimmering curtains. Between that and his wings, I was closed off from the world, inundated by him and surrounded by him. His hips drove harder, his cock spearing deeper, his stars lighting me up from the inside with vibrating points of trembling energy until I quaked. My hips jerked as I tried to match his rhythm, tried to feel more, faster, harder, anything, everything.

“Wylf, please,” I lamented. “I need… I need…”

“I know, beloved,” he said, lowering himself until my nipples dragged tantalizingly over the smooth wool of his jacket. “Just let go, Torrance. Just let go, and breathe, and let me take care of you.” Possessive arousal roughened his voice. “Let your husband make you come.”

On the verge of bursting into tears, I obeyed. I did my best to breathe and tried to soothe my over-tight muscles, letting myself spread, languid and slow like honey.

“Good, beloved,” he growled. “You’re doing so well. You’re perfect. So cursedly perfect.”

His pace increased almost instantly, a ferocious snapping of his hips. At the same time, he bracketed my shoulders with his elbows, smoothing my hair back from my face and placing his forehead to mine. He scorched me with his contradictions, everything in him a collection of contrasts. His hips and cock were ravenous, pistoning into me so hard my body jerked back over the silk with every thrust. But his hands were gentle, his mouth gorgeously tender as he explored my ear, my cheekbone, my eyelid, the tip of my nose.

“I love you. Skies take me, I love everything about you,” Wylf panted between kisses along my jaw, chin, and mouth. “Love how you feel. So wet and lush, wrapped around me like silk. Blast, it’s like you’re shivering on the inside.”

All I could manage in response was a heady moan.

“Let go completely now, Torrance,” he groaned. “Come on your husband’s cock the way I know you need to.”

His words twined like smooth rope inside me, coiling around my pelvis and tightening at the base of my spine until I arched, strained, tried to scream but couldn’t, couldn’t make a single sound around the orgasm that split me open like a sharp but oh, so beautiful knife.

“Yes, beloved. My perfect little bride,” Wylfrael moaned. He captured my mouth, and there was nothing tender about it this time, his tongue sliding deep and claiming just like his cock. I couldn’t even kiss him back. Could only hold myself open for him, for every part of him, as I completely came undone.

Wylfrael groaned into my mouth, the sound making his tongue vibrate as my channel milked him in exquisite, fluttering movements. I was so aware of him that I felt him swell further, stiffen impossibly harder inside me, as if made of smooth, hot, living diamond. Diamond that was twitching, throbbing, bursting. Explosions of ecstasy rocked Wylfrael’s frame, bringing him higher and higher, harder and harder, until every nerve was stretched and singing, just like mine. He came as if he’d never come before, like he’d been waiting a lifetime, a thousand lifetimes, to fill me just like this. A dark and desperate torrent shooting forward like arrow after glittering arrow, the target an unseen, needy place inside me.

Wylf dragged his mouth from mine and whispered, a quick tumble of words I could barely hear or understand. But I knew enough of how he felt, of him, to reply anyway.

“I love you, Wylfrael,” I murmured. “I love you, too.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Torrance

The morning after our wedding was the first morning Wylf stayed wrapped around me in bed until I woke up. When daylight turned the silver walls bright, I stirred, a thread of joy winding through me when I felt Wylfrael curved around my back, an arm and a wing thrown protectively over me.

“You’re still here,” I whispered, smiling and wiggling backwards.

“Of course, I am,” Wylfrael grunted, sleepiness making his voice husky.

It thrilled me – I’d never seen him just waking up in the morning.

“I hope you have not tired of your new husband already,” he muttered against the top of my head, which made me laugh.

“Nope. Not yet.”

I would have been happy to stay there all day, wrapped in Wylfrael’s arms, enjoying the quiet warmth of him and the furs. But anxious butterflies took wing in my stomach when I remember what today was.

The gathering of the gods.

It would be the first time I’d meet stone sky gods other than Wylf and Maerwynne. It would also be the first time I’d step through a stone sky door into another world for myself.

Wylfrael groaned in complaint when I wriggled out of his grasp. I slid out of the bed, bouncing on the balls of my feet on the stool and hopping down to the floor. I turned back to my husband, hands on my hips. He rolled lazily onto his back, the furs sliding to the side and revealing the thickness of his erection against his belly.

Oh, God.

My mouth went dry, and I forced myself to look away.

“Come on, we have things to do today!” I said. Realizing I was completely naked, I hurried to the armoire to grab a robe, feeling Wylf’s eyes on my bare skin the entire time.

“I have things I want to do to you,” Wylf grumbled, correcting me. I laughed, pulling the belt tight on my robe while striding across the room to the bathroom.

“You can take care of that yourself. Have a bath,” I tossed teasingly over my shoulder back at him, jerking my head towards his cock. “Use the jets. I know from experience just how effective they are.”

Wylf growled and sat up, wings flaring, gripping the furs, looking like a predator about to pounce. Shrieking, I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, dissolving into giggles on the other side.

Despite the fact we did have to get ready for the gathering, Wylf insisted on taking his damn time.  We ate breakfast and lunch together in our room, with him eating slowly, staring at me the entire time. After lunch, he insisted we take a sleigh ride together again. When I protested, he merely silenced me with a kiss the way he’d done so many times before and told me that no newly mated god would come early to a gathering because he’d be too preoccupied with rutting his mate.

Ultimately, he knew stone sky culture much better than me. So, I decided not to argue further, put on a cloak over my dress, and followed him out to the sleigh.

Shame and arousal flooded me when I saw the broken bench.

“How are we going to explain that to Shoshen?” I lamented, ears burning as I sat down, staying far away from the jagged part.

“I’ll tell him the truth. I broke it out of barely restrained passion while deep inside my bride,” Wylf said nonchalantly, the verbal version of a shrug.

“You will not!” I gasped. “That is humiliating!”

Wylf sat beside me, and some of my embarrassment gave way to giddy warmth when his arm came to rest so naturally around my shoulders. He called to Barra to start moving, the path still clear from our last ride, and turned his face down to me as the sleigh rocked forward.

“My passion for you is humiliating?”

“Well, no,” I sputtered, cheeks flaming. “But other people use this sleigh you know! They don’t need to know what happened here!”

“Hmm,” Wylfrael said, sounding thoughtful even though his eyes danced with something wicked. “I rather like that everyone would know. Perhaps I will not even fix it. Will leave it as a sharp reminder of the first time I claimed you.”

“Leave it like that so someone can hurt themselves? No, thank you!” I glared at him. “Just smooth it out like you did to make that mirror in our room!”

He made another thoughtful noise, rumbling in his chest.

“And what do I get out of this deal?” he asked, his nose brushing my temple. My pulse quickened when I realized he’d gotten his hand beneath my skirt, running it up over my knee and skimming his palm up my inner thigh.

“You get a bench that won’t slice anybody’s ass open,” I moaned. “Does everything have to be bargains and deals with you?”

He chuckled softly, the timbre of his voice making my body react so viscerally that my legs parted without even thinking about it. He nudged my silk panties aside, sliding a finger against my flesh, drawing wetness out of me and coating the folds still tender from last night. I shivered and turned to him, already forgetting the stupid bench, which drew another dark laugh from my husband.

“Kisses were a good way to stop your questions and your arguments. I wish I’d known that this was even more effective,” he purred, sliding slick fingers up to my clit and tapping it gently, making my hips jump off the bench.

“Wylf,” I groaned, half in complaint, half in need.

“Don’t worry, beloved. What my wife wants, my wife gets. I’ll fix the bench.”

I sighed and relaxed into Wylf’s mouth as he kissed me. As if sensing I was swollen and sensitive from last night, he didn’t fuck me with his fingers. Instead, he stroked leisurely, languorous circles over my clit, easing me up to my orgasm slowly, the build a warm and luxurious spread through my core. It didn’t take long, even with his slow pace. Everything about him aroused me, even the parts I clashed with.

I panted against his mouth, hips grinding, riding his hand as I came. I’d barely recovered, my head swimming on a sea of oxytocin and serotonin, when I felt his hands moving, pulling his cock free.

Oh, no you don’t. If he could tease me about the bench, then I could do even more.

I smiled at him sweetly, batting my lashes, much the same way I had so long ago in the library when I’d been showing him just how wickedly good I could be at pretending to be his wife. And, much like that time, wariness crept into Wylf’s features. His cheek tightened when I ran a single gloved finger up the stiff length of his cock.

“Do you want me to touch you, husband?”

Wylfrael’s brows crashed downward.

“You know I do. What kind of question is that?” he growled.

“Hmm. Do you want me to suck you?”

His cock pulsed against my finger, a silent reply to my question.

“Yes,” Wylf gritted out.

“Well. I will take that under advisement,” I chirruped. “Stop, Barra!”

I said that last part in Sionnachan, having learned a few commands by now. The elegant sontanna slowed, and while my husband watched me in irritated astonishment, I jumped out of the sleigh to the snow below. Panting, legs shaking, and a grin splitting my face from ear to ear, I made a snowball and threw it as hard as I could.

It didn’t hit him in the face like I’d been aiming, but close enough. It hit his chest, exploding in a powdery puff, cold flakes falling down on his throbbing erection.

He rose instantly, wings snapping open, a predatory darkness entering his face, hardening his jaw. Between the look on his face and the inescapable demand of his erection, a giddy, pulsing, arousing fear filled me. I shrieked, starting to run, past the sleigh, past Barra, and onto the smooth path ahead. My legs were so weak from the orgasm that my boots slid more than stepped as I alternated squealing in delighted fear and laughing. I allowed myself a look back which made my breath nearly stop in my throat. Wylfrael was stalking me, like an animal, following me down the path he’d created with demanding hunger in his eyes. He could have used his wings and caught me in an instant, but he was enjoying drawing this out, enjoying watching me slide and pant and try to escape.

“Oh, shit!” I cried when he used his power to raise a massive chunk of snow, bigger than any snowball I could have made. It floated over until it was poised right above my head. I tried to run faster, but the huge snowball followed me, like a storm cloud tethered to my head

“No, Wylf!” I shrieked, stopping running and covering my head. It wasn’t enough snow to hurt – this snow was too powdery and light anyway. But it was still a lot. If he let it drop on my head, I’d be completely covered, frigidness slipping into every nook and cranny, saturating my hair and sliding down the back of my neck. Wylfrael finally caught up, never rushing, never hurrying, the immortal bastard. He came to a stop before me.

“Sorry,” I cooed, still fighting laughter that was both terrified and elated.

“And here I thought you said you weren’t a liar,” he drawled darkly. “I do not believe that you are sorry.”

I couldn’t stop the laughter. It bubbled out of my throat.

“OK, you caught me,” I said.

“So I have.”

Reminded of the threat he held literally over my head, I held my breath and hunched down, waiting to be doused in a blanket of cold white.

But it didn’t come. Hesitantly, I opened one scrunchy eye, then the other.

The snowball was no longer a ball, but a dispersed fluffy cloud over my head. Even though the sky was clear and pink, all sun today, it was snowing on me. One of Wylf’s hands was raised as he shredded bits of snow off from overhead so that they gently dusted my hair, my shoulders, my nose.

I could tell he was even controlling the descent of the snowflakes. They barely fell. They floated, which made me feel like I was in my own magical snow globe of his creation. After expecting the rush of cold falling down around me, this soft, gentle flutter of sparkling white crystals took my breath away. So did Wylfrael’s expression – no longer one of an irritated hunter but one of adoration so poignant it almost looked like pain.

In awe of the cascading wonder he’d created, my heart so full that no human method of measurement could ever comprehend it, I fell to my knees and finally took my husband’s cock into my mouth.

WHEN WE RETURNED TO the castle, entering through the kitchen, Wylfrael insisted that I eat something.

“I don’t see how I possibly could,” I chided, “considering how you just pumped my mouth and stomach full of-”

I slammed my mouth shut so hard my teeth clattered when I saw Aiko in the kitchen.

Wylfrael laughed behind me, deep and throaty. “What was that, my beloved wife? I don’t think Aiko quite got all of that.”

I cast him what I hoped was a cutting glance before holding up my hand to Aiko and muttering, “Don’t even ask.”

Wylf scooped two bowls of stew from the crystal counter, carrying them up to our room as I hobbled along like a newborn deer. He’d made me come twice more on the sleigh ride back, and I felt like every joint in my body had been replaced with soggy sponge.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t eat that,” I said, throwing myself into a huge crystal chair and sprawling across its seat. “I’m too nervous.”

Now that we were back, there was no way that Wylf could keep stalling. It was time to get ready for the gathering of the gods.

Wylfrael placed the bowls on the table and brooded.

“If I did not need information from the other gods, we would not go at all. I do not relish being in Sceadulyr’s Shadowlands.”

I wriggled into a more upright position.

“Why not?”

I knew little of where we were actually going or of the god hosting this event.

“Sceadulyr is powerful and treacherous. He controls shadows, and things are rarely as they seem in his domain. The only reason I’m willing to bring you there at all is because I know he wouldn’t do anything stupid with so many other gods present.” He fixed me with a hard stare. “Stay with me at all times.”

“Well, now I’m even more nervous!” I exclaimed, flopping back against the chair. But even so, even with the nerves, I was excited, too. I was going to be glimpsing a whole group of different aliens all gathered in one place. No doubt I’d be the only human, but Wylfrael had told me earlier that the other mated gods would bring their own brides, so at least I wouldn’t be the only mortal female there.

“Well, if you’re not going to eat, you should dress,” Wylfrael said, crossing to my armoire and flicking through it, sifting through silk and wool.

“Oh? I thought I’d just wear this,” I said, looking down at myself. I was wearing a simple but lovely grey wool gown with long sleeves, perfect for winter on Sionnach.

“It’s not winter there,” Wylf said.

“Oh, OK,” I said. I slid out of the chair and then draped my cloak on it. I hurried to Wylfrael’s side. I reached for a different outfit, but he grunted at me to stop.

“What?” I asked, raising a brow at him.

“I already know what you’re going to wear. Just need to find it,” he said, his gaze focused on the fabrics rippling under his searching hands.

“You’re choosing what I get to wear? I didn’t know that being married to you meant I had my own personal stylist,” I said sarcastically.

“You didn’t know that?” Wylf asked, deadpan. “Would have guessed you’d have figured it out that first day I brought this all home for you.

“OK… you kind of have a point,” I said. “Alright, fine. You know these other stone sky gods and the dress code better than I ever could. I trust you.”

Wylf stiffened, his hands going still.

“Good.”

I smiled, leaning sideways until my head bumped his shoulder.

“I remember that you once told me you didn’t care if I trusted you,” I murmured.

“Things change,” he said gruffly, his hands resuming their search. “Ah. Here it is.”

I recognized the fabric immediately as Wylfrael pulled it out of the armoire. How could I forget the devastatingly perfect black silk, the first thing he’d draped over my shoulders while I’d sat glaring at him in this very room?

It was no longer a slippery, shapeless bolt, but had been sewn into a long, flowing sheath dress with thin straps and a plunging V-neck.

“This one?” I gasped, flushing at the beauty of the garment.

“Yes. Gave Aiko instructions on the design the same day I held it up against you.”

I took it from his hands, marvelling at the perfect texture.

“There’s something else,” Wylfrael said, rummaging in the armoire again. “Here.”

He placed something else on top of the dress in my hands. Something made of stunning gold and white lace I hadn’t noticed in the chests of fabric last time.

“What is it?” I asked. But even as I asked, I instantly knew what it was. A mask, the kind you’d wear to a masquerade ball. I raised the dress and the mask closer to my face, astonished by the delicate beauty of the glimmering gold lace.

“Aiko made this too?”

“No,” Wylf answered. “I did.”

“You?!” I gawked. “I didn’t know you could sew!”

“Anyone who can write in Sionnachan can sew,” Wylf said simply.

“OK, but being able to sew and being able to make something like this are two completely different things and you know it! I don’t remember seeing this lace before.”

I’d been inundated with fabrics and clothing, but I would have remembered golden lace like this.

“I purchased it at a different time. Before the rest of it.”

“Before?” I frowned. He’d gone out to get all this stuff pretty soon after we got fake engaged. “I don’t understand.”

Wylfrael’s mouth puckered into an irritated frown.

“I bought it right after you arrived,” he muttered. “There. Are you satisfied? Even before I knew I loved you, I was a fool for you. Buying expensive lace in shops because it reminded me of your eyes. Ridiculous.”

I wanted to whisper that it wasn’t ridiculous, but I could see what bothered him. Back then, we’d been enemies. I was his prisoner. We’d hated each other. And yet…

And yet, he’d bought beautiful lace because it reminded him of me.

Wylf spoke again, all the bitterness gone from his voice.

“That was the first thing I noticed when I saw your face, you know. Your eyes. You may have been human, and I may have considered you a foreign invader, but your eyes were all Sionnach. Honey on snow. The sweetness of my homeland in the gaze of a woman from across the cosmos. I should have realized, even then, that it meant something.”

“Meant what?”

“That something tied you to me. That you would be mine. I was stupid not to see it then.”

“I don’t know if that’s fair,” I offered. While he’d made some pretty terrible choices when it came to how he’d handled me, I felt a sudden need to defend him. “You found me as part of a colonizing, invading force in your world after going through a ton of your own stuff with Skalla. You were enraged and hurting when you found me. You didn’t starburn, you didn’t feel a mate bond. I don’t think you could have predicted we’d fall in love just because of the colour of my eyes.”

“Perhaps,” he said slowly. “I wonder, sometimes, about the starburn. The stone sky mate bond.”

Insecurity pinched me. Was he second-guessing this? If he changed his mind, wanted to go find his true mate now, I knew with a searing pain that I’d let him. Because it would save him, even if it destroyed me.

“What do you mean?” I asked, keeping my voice steady, but barely. “What do you think about it?”

“I wonder how that bond could ever possibly eclipse what I have grown to feel for you.”

Oh.

“If I had not been asleep, away for so long, I wouldn’t be dressing you in silk and lace to go see the other gods. I’d be tearing that beautiful dress right off of you before you could take a single step.”

He sighed, as if he regretted the circumstances deeply.

“But as it is, we must go. I need to speak with other stone sky gods. The only ones I’ve seen in eons are Skalla and Maerwynne, and Skalla wasn’t exactly in the conversing mood.”

Right. It was a reminder of our duties, of the people relying on us. We needed to keep going – go to the gathering, and get Wylf on the council – to find the human women and hopefully help Skalla’s mate, assuming she was still alive.

“What are you going to do when you find Skalla, after you’ve joined the council?” I asked. Wylf had mentioned lately that he had a feeling Skalla might be back on his mother’s homeworld of Bohnebregg by now. But even if Skalla was there, Wylf wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him or confine him without the power of other stone sky gods. He’d already almost died – twice – trying to beat his berserker cousin. “Are you going to kill him?”

“I’d rather not,” Wylf said. “Though he has caused immeasurable and perhaps irreparable harm, he is still Skalla to me. My cousin and my oldest friend. At least, I hope he is, somewhere in there.”

I folded the mask and dress into my arms and leaned forward, pressing my cheek to my husband’s chest in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. I understood Wylf’s need to keep Skalla alive. Skalla was someone he’d known and loved throughout his immortality. He was his father’s brother’s son, someone he’d grown up with. Someone I knew he still longed to save if he could.

“I understand,” I said. “He’s your only remaining family. Of course, you don’t want to kill him.”

Wylf’s voice grew stern, maybe even angry, with reproach.

“Skalla is not my only family.”

He grasped my shoulders and pushed me back so that I was forced to look into his serious face.

“You are my family now, Torrance. You are my wife. And I hope you know that if it ever came down to choosing between you and Skalla, between you and anyone else, it would be you. Only you, beloved. Every single time.”

He pulled me back to his chest, closing his arms around me and resting his chin on the top of my head.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whispered. I sniffed, then gave a shaky laugh. “I better get into this dress before I cry all over it.”

“Yes… yes, we should go.” His arms didn’t seem to agree with his words, and I had to pull myself away to get changed. As I peeled off my grey dress and slipped into the perfectly fitted black silk, I watched my husband as he prepared to leave. He apparently didn’t feel the need to change. The only thing he did was strap a long, shining sword to his back.

“Is that Sionnachan?” I asked, finger-combing my hair with one hand, the mask in the other. “The sword.”

“No,” he said. “It was my father’s, and it was forged by his father’s mother’s people, the Katanari.”

I paused, waiting to see if he’d continue, but he didn’t. A new tension had entered his wings and shoulders, and I wondered if wearing the sword, or maybe me asking about it, bothered him for some reason.

I decided to drop it, changing the subject.

“Care to help me put this on?”

I dangled the mask between us.

“Of course,” he said. He walked to me, coming in behind me, and tied the lace ribbons deftly at the back of my head. When it was done, I spun around, smiling.

“How do I look? Won’t embarrass you in front of the other gods, will I?”

I was totally fishing for compliments, but I didn’t care. Wylf didn’t seem to care, either. He dragged a knuckle between my breasts, making my nipples prick behind the silk. I wasn’t wearing a bra – impossible with this dress’ design – and Wylfrael’s breath quickened when he looked at my breasts.

“You look like perfection taken shape,” he murmured. He bent, placing a slow, tender kiss between my collarbones, dipping his tongue into the place where my heart beat. My thighs squeezed, and my spine arched. I knew we had to go, and yet I hoped he’d bring his mouth further down and tongue my nipples through the dress. This morning, I had been the one eschewing sex to get ready for this event. The tables had turned, and here I was begging with my body, now.

Though I could see the straining behind the crotch of his trousers, he pulled away. Not too far, though. He took my hand, and I squeezed his.

“Hey, don’t you need a mask?” I asked as he led me out of the bedroom.

“No. It’s not a necessity to attend. I just wanted to see you wear it.”

Flushing, I decided I’d keep it on.

Wylfrael and I ascended to the conservatory. Still holding my hand, Wylf pulled the lever that opened the walls. Goosebumps erupted all over me as the cold air hit my exposed skin, the silk doing little to conserve warmth.

“We won’t be out here long,” Wylf assured me. He scooped me up into his arms…

And took off.

My heart flip-flopped in my chest, and I threw my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. Not that Wylf would let me fall, but I wasn’t exactly used to this. He hadn’t flown with me like this, high in the air, since the night we’d gotten engaged.

The sun was setting, nearly gone behind the mountains, turning their ridges the colour of wine. We went higher and higher, as if we were fleeing the sun’s light itself, launching up towards the stars. I shivered and clung to Wylf, my hair whipping around my face, kept only slightly in place by the lace straps of the mask.

Eventually, the ascent slowed.

“Ready?” Wylf asked.

“Ready,” I croaked. Here we go.

Wylf’s face darkened with powerful concentration, though his star map seemed to grow suddenly brighter. His eyes sliced through the night as he tucked me closer to his chest, holding me with one arm and raising the other.

I looked away from him, turning my attention to the sky, speechless when I saw solid matter forming out of the air. The sky was condensing and hardening into a wall before my very eyes.

Wylfrael raised his fist, then slammed it down.

The force of his action made my teeth chatter and my bones rattle. A massive crack had formed in the wall. The door.

I held tightly to my husband as he stepped through.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Torrance

It really was like stepping through a door. As instantaneous as breathing. One second we were in Sionnach’s sunset-smeared sky, the next I was scrunching my eyes shut against brilliant sunlight. Delicious heat kissed over my skin. Summer. Wylfrael had said it wasn’t winter here.

The mask provided some small bit of shade for my eyes, which helped me to open them, up in the air, to get a look at this new world we’d come into – the Shadowlands.

Only it didn’t look anything like what a name like Shadowlands would imply.

It looked like a Mediterranean paradise.

From up here, I could see a wide, glittering expanse of turquoise sea lapping up against flawless white beaches rimmed with lush foliage and flowers. Behind the beaches rose golden-beige cliffs, and on top of the cliffs, baking in the glorious sun, sat a sprawling white structure. A palace of connected white domes and wide cylindrical towers, all arranged in a horseshoe shape, open towards the sea. As we got closer, the beauty of the place fully struck me. Gold and pink flowers bloomed along the white stone, climbing on emerald vines, and trees heavy with fragrant fruit rustled in the gentle sea breeze.

We descended towards the open centre of the horseshoe shape, landing in a courtyard rich with sunlight, stone, and more trees and flowers. When we landed, Wylf let me down to my feet. I tested my strength, wondering if going through the sky door had had any ill effect on me, but it didn’t seem so.

“OK, this is not what I was picturing when you said Shadowlands,” I whispered to Wylfrael. The sound of waves hitting the shore below the cliffs washed over me in delicious strokes, punctuated by the sound of what I thought might be some kind of seabird.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Wylf said. “Naturally, it’s a world with very little sunlight. Not much grows.”

“Not much grows?!” I gestured to the flowers and trees all around us.

“That’s Sceadulyr’s work,” Wylf said. “His mother is from the Shadowlands, but his father had power over stone, not light or shadow. Sceadulyr learned to manipulate light and darkness and has focused the sun on this part of the world so that, here, it is eternally summer. The rest of the planet is as it ever was. Dark and cold.”

“Whoa.” I knew the stone sky gods were immensely powerful, but I didn’t know how varied their strengths could be. “Is there day and night? Or is it always sunny here?”

“There is day and night,” Wylf confirmed. “Just no discernable change of season.”

I shook my head in wonder, already trying to come up with a hypothesis on how Sceadulyr accomplished such a thing. I squinted up at the sky, theorizing. There was still day and night, which meant the planet still rotated on some sort of axis. But perhaps Sceadulyr had been able to turn this part of the world into an equator of sorts by focusing sunlight, the way you might through a magnifying glass.

“So, it’s only this area, then?”

“Yes,” Wylf said. “But the Shadowlands world is not very populated, at least last I was here. The entire population has journeyed over the generations to come live in Sceadulyr’s sunlight. No one lives in the shadows anymore.” He smirked. “To the Sionnachans, I am a lord. To the Shadowlands people, Sceadulyr is a holy monarch. They worship him, bring him gifts, and beg him for blessings.”

“I mean, I can’t really blame them if he literally creates the warmth and sunlight that allows them to grow food and prosper,” I said. “He doesn’t sound like such a bad guy if he at least takes care of the people here.”

Wylf made a disgruntled sound in his throat.

“He is not to be trusted,” he said sharply. “Do not leave my side. Don’t even stop touching me. Hold tightly to my arm.”

I looped my arms around his and nodded.

Before I could get more information on Sceadulyr or his world, a familiar figure approached from the direction of the palace.

“Maerwynne,” Wylf grunted in greeting as he came to a stop before us.

Maerwynne’s double-crescent eyes took us in.

“You brought her,” he said, shock colouring his voice. “The gathering only allows…”

“Gods and their mates,” Wylf finished for him. “I know.”

Maerwynne’s long black tail flicked across the warm stone. He was dressed the same way as last time, in all white, loose clothing, only this time he wasn’t all bedraggled and wet from the snowstorm. While my last run-in with him hadn’t exactly made me like him, I had to acknowledge that he really was stunningly gorgeous in his own way. His long hair was sleek and perfectly straight, deep red turned to sparkling ruby under the sunlight, his wings and star map matching the warm colour and contrasting with the ultra-smooth black of his skin. And it wasn’t just his appearance that made me think he was beautiful. It was the entire way he held himself. There was a simple grace to his stance, to every move he made. A whisper-soft control that hinted at immense strength under stillness.

“I am surprised, but in some other ways, not surprised,” Maerwynne finally said. “You couldn’t wait to get rid of me when I came to see her. Even before you starburned, some instinct inside you knew she was yours.”

I frowned, wondering if this conversation was going to go the same way it had last time, as if I weren’t even there. But then Maerwynne turned his gaze to me. His attention was like a touch. Singular and probing. It wasn’t malevolent or demanding, or hungry the way Wylfrael’s so often was. But there was a deep and quiet intelligence there. He was studying me closely.

Time to put on my happy bride face.

I leaned into Wylf’s arm and smiled.

After a moment, a soft smile mirrored mine. It shocked me because it actually seemed quite genuine.

“Hello, Torrance. I am glad to see you here with Wylfrael. As we say on my homeworld of Vizhir when a couple completes their bonding ceremony, ‘may blood forever flow between you.’”

“Thank you,” I said, trying not to let my smile slip at how bizarrely violent the phrase sounded. I reminded myself that I couldn’t judge alien culture by my human rules, and maybe the flowing blood thing was metaphorical, anyway. Now that I wasn’t a terrified prisoner worried that I was going to get handed over to Maerwynne like nothing more than a sack of potatoes, I was starting to tentatively trust him. Wylfrael hadn’t warned me about him the way he had about Sceadulyr, and my husband obviously knew and respected Maerwynne well enough, otherwise Wylf never would have let him into the castle.

“You’ve obviously come alone,” Wylf said. There was a question lingering behind the statement.

“Yes. I am alone,” Maerwynne said, smile vanishing. He held up his hand. Where his star map should have been glowing, it was dark, the pinpricks looking like greyish scars. “Unfortunately, it has spread a little since we last spoke.”

“Whatever support you require, I freely offer it,” Wylf said firmly. It was a remarkable change from their last encounter when Wylf had seemed to only begrudgingly want to help Maerwynne. I guess he feels the same way I do. Now that he knows Maerwynne doesn’t want me, he’s more relaxed and happier to help.

Maerwynne’s words echoed in my head.

Even before you starburned, some instinct inside you knew she was yours.

“Everyone else is inside dancing,” Maerwynne said.

“Dancing?” I asked. I hadn’t known there would be dancing. I hadn’t really known what to expect, in all honesty. Maybe something like a board meeting.

“Come. I will show you,” Maerwynne replied.

The three of us crossed the sunlit courtyard towards the largest white dome at the centre of the curving building. This dome alone was massive – as big as a mansion. There was an arch at its base, the curving entrance completely overflowing with glorious flowers, similar in shape to something like roses from Earth, but larger, the petals huge and buttery soft. As we passed under the arch, a warm breeze rustled the blooms and petals floated down, as if to welcome us.

When we stepped fully into the dome, my jaw dropped.

The first thing I noticed was the space. The white stone of the domed wall was barely visible, every surface crawling with vines and more flowers. Trees circled the entire room, lush with fruit. The massive room reminded me more of a greenhouse than anything, especially because it was…

It was sunny in here.

Confused, I wrenched my head back to stare upwards. Yup, there was a solid white stone ceiling above. But though it should have been blocking the sunlight, somehow, it cast no shadow. The interior of this dome was as sun-drenched as the courtyard outside.

“How is this possible?” I murmured, awe-struck.

“I cannot control light or shadow. I know little of how Sceadulyr does what he does,” Wylfrael replied. I wondered if that was part of the reason Wylf didn’t trust him – because he didn’t fully understand this Shadowlands god’s power. As I stared upward at solid stone while my face was simultaneously warmed by sunshine, I became aware of music filtering through the air and noticed almost right beside us near the arch we’d come through was a group of aliens. I swallowed, trying not to openly gape.

“Shadowlands musicians,” Maerwynne informed me.

So, these weren’t stone sky gods, then, but the mortals of this planet. They were humanoid in shape with pale grey skin that had an almost aquatic look to it – like a shark’s hide. Their noses were flat and slitted like a shark’s, too, their eyes hidden behind a fringe of dark blue feathers that hung down over the top half of their faces and ran down the backs of their necks, disappearing into beige robes.

I was standing face to face with a brand-new alien species. That was incredible enough, but even more stunning was the musical instruments they played. There were three musicians, each standing behind a large instrument that looked like a harp. Their four-fingered hands plucked deftly over… not exactly strings. More like dark wobbly waves that didn’t look entirely solid. That’s what I couldn’t figure out – what the hell the harps were made of.

“It’s shadow magic,” Wylf said, as if sensing my confusion. “Sceadulyr made them.”

“Hold on. Are you telling me he made these instruments out of shadow?”

That made no sense. Shadow wasn’t a thing in and of itself, it was merely a lack of light. An absence.

But even though my human science brain rebelled against what Wylf had just told me, I couldn’t come up with any other explanation of why the strings weren’t strings but more like… well, shadows. And the music sounded like nothing I’d ever heard. Every note prismatic, as if comprised of a thousand different waves of sound.

“Come. We must meet the other gods,” Wylf said.

“Right,” I said, nodding and trying to refocus. If I was that caught up in this trio of Shadowlands people, I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to stay standing among all the foreign gods. I clutched Wylf’s arm for support as we walked through fruit trees and flowers into the centre of the dome.

I was glad I was holding onto him. Otherwise, there was a very good chance I could have toppled over at what I saw.

Stone sky gods, dozens of them, filled the space. As Maerwynne had pointed out, some were dancing in the centre with partners – I assumed their mortal mates – moving in intimate, intricate steps. Other gods, those who seemed to have come here alone, were scattered in small groups talking amongst each other. The diversity in their lineage came into shocking focus, each male looking different from every other, skin, hair, even general shape and number of limbs and eyes varying vastly. They all had star maps and wings, but even those varied. Some wings were leathery like Wylf’s, others feathered, or furred, or glittering with scales. One male even had clear, crystalline pink wings, like a candy-coloured dragonfly. The star maps came in all different colours, but I noticed that almost all of the males who stood alone had areas of their maps that had lost light.

Heads were beginning to turn towards us, no doubt noticing our arrival. A quick glance through the room confirmed something I’d already guessed – I was the only human. As the eyes of so many immortals settled on me, I found myself grateful for the mask Wylf had placed on my face. It made me feel just a little shielded from the gazes that seemed to want to dig inside me.

“Come, beloved,” Wylf said softly against my ear. “I want to make them all even more jealous of my beautiful mate.”

Before I could respond, he’d pulled me into the centre of the dome, into the crowd of whirling dancers.

“I don’t know how!” I stammered, panic rising at the thought of getting trampled among the much more skilled dancers.

“I do,” was all Wylf said. He grasped my hand in his, then looped a strong arm around my back, hitching me up until I stood atop his feet. I barely had a chance to grasp his shoulder with my other hand before he was off, spinning me through the room with a rhythmic grace that both shocked and delighted me. I knew Wylf was graceful, but it had always been the grace of a predator. A smooth, prowling control belying violence. I didn’t know it could be channelled into something so beautiful, so romantic as whirling me effortlessly to ethereal, shadowy music.

A smile split my face, and I started to laugh, overwhelmed by the giddy beauty of the moment. Of dancing with Wylfrael, the husband I never should have had, in a room that shouldn’t have been sunny but somehow was, anyway. I closed my eyes, completely trusting Wylf’s movements, soaking in the extraordinary feeling of moving without really moving while the sun caressed my skin.

My eyes opened when I felt Wylfrael kissing me. He never missed a beat – his feet moving endlessly, carrying me through the dance, even while his mouth worked over mine. Sighing into the kiss, I opened to him, loving the way his hands tightened on me in response.

I could have stayed here in Wylfrael’s arms all night. I had a feeling Wylfrael could have, too. He seemed in no hurry to stop dancing or kissing to talk to the other gods, which was the whole reason we had come here in the first place. But I decided I didn’t care. I’d dance and kiss and feel the sun on my skin for as long as I could.

It wasn’t nearly long enough, it turned out. A strange, dark voice cut through the music and chatter, silk and shadow, stealing the warmth from my skin even though the sun still shone.

“Well, well, well, Wylfrael. You’ve found your bride, I see.”

Wylf immediately broke away from the kiss, his face tightening. He stopped dancing, too, and put me down at the edge of the dancing crowd in order to turn and greet whoever had just spoken to us.

As soon as I set eyes on him, I knew who he was.

Sceadulyr.

He had to be. Though he wasn’t any taller than Wylfrael, hovering in that seven-foot range, he exuded authority and control that no other god here could mimic. Though he did not say so, the lift of his chin, the knowing glint of his dark eyes, told me without words that we were entirely in his domain. I remembered what Wylfrael had told me, and held fast to his arm.

“Greetings, Sceadulyr,” Wylf said blandly. “Yes, I have married. This is my mate, Torrance.”

“Torrance,” Sceadulyr said, as if tasting the sound. I shivered and moved in closer to Wylfrael. “And where do you hail from, Torrance? Who are your people?”

I looked at Wylf for guidance, but he didn’t seem to be telling me to stay quiet with his expression. Maerwynne already knew I was human, anyway, so it wasn’t like it was a secret.

“I’m… I’m human.”

“Human! Ah, one of the new star travellers,” Sceadulyr replied. His words seemed cordial on the surface, but his tone didn’t truly feel that way. He grinned, but there was no mirth in it. It was all malice, all edge, all sharp teeth. It was strange – in some ways, Sceadulyr was more human-looking than Wylfrael. His skin was similar to the Shadowlands people’s, but was paler, more white than grey, with no glowing star map to speak of anywhere to make him look so immediately alien. Instead, small grey dots and lines, like bits of ash, dusted his skin where stars should have glowed. Apart from the unnerving nature of his smile, his mouth, nose, eyes, ears, and brows were mostly human in shape, though his eyes were all black, with silver, cat-like pupils. His hair was as long as Wylf’s, reaching nearly to his waist, but was pure black. So black it swallowed light. Despite the sunlight that gleamed on the dark silk of his shirt and trousers and illuminated his pale skin, his hair did not shine, did not reflect anything back. Neither did his wings, and it was only with an intense amount of squinting that I could make out the dimmed outline of black feathers on them, like a raven’s, but darker than any raven could ever hope to be.

“Um, yes,” I confirmed, feeling flustered. For some reason, it unnerved me that Sceadulyr knew anything about me or my people. Humans really are so stupid, spreading across the universe like this with no idea who we’re really dealing with…

“I have a gift for you, human.”

I looked down, frowning. In Sceadulyr’s hands was a fruit like the ones that hung from some of the trees in this dome. It was perfectly round and shiny, so deep red in colour it was almost black.

Every instinct told me not to take it. Stories of gardens and apples and underworlds and pomegranates spun through my head, whirling like the dancers, warning me.

But I didn’t want to do something wrong. I didn’t know the customs and didn’t want to offend the host and master here.

I let go of Wylfrael’s arm.

In an instant, the fruit was gone. Wylf was gone. Everyone was gone. Sceadulyr’s hands were on mine, viciously cold as he tugged me to him. He forced me into movement, leading me with restrained aggression through the steps of the dance I’d just done with Wylf. But where my husband had lifted me, supporting me, Sceadulyr pushed and pulled me until I was stumbling and dizzy.

“Tell me about your machines,” he hissed against my ear. “Tell me how you travel.”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not an engineer. I can’t give you any information about the ships.” I gasped. “Where’s Wylfrael?”

Panic made my heart pound. I twisted my head in Sceadulyr’s arms but couldn’t make anything out. Everything was shadow but him and me.

“Humans,” Sceadulyr said, venom dripping from his voice, spinning me until I thought I might collapse. “What is it about you humans? First Skalla, now Wylfrael.”

“Skalla?” I choked out, trying to keep up with Sceadulyr’s words while also doing everything in my power not to lose my footing, not to let him have total control of my body. “Skalla has a human mate?”

Sceadulyr didn’t answer, and before I could ask him anything else or demand that he let me go, something behind him caught my eye. Something dim, coated in gloom, but getting closer and sharper every moment.

It was a sword, slicing through the air. I almost sobbed when I saw that it was Wylfrael.

“Sceadulyr,” he roared, slashing his blade as if he could cut through the shadow that surrounded us. “No matter how much shadow magic you use, I can still smell her. You cannot escape from me.”

The ground underfoot began to shake. I knew it wasn’t Sceadulyr’s doing, because his silver and black eyes narrowed in irritation.

“Wylfrael and his stone powers,” he muttered. “So brutally unrefined.”

Vertigo overtook me as Sceadulyr’s grip on my body vanished, leaving me caught up in the momentum of his movements with nothing to hold onto. I swayed drunkenly to the side, tripping over my own feet, about to topple –

Two arms seized me and hauled me to a broad chest. Wylf. I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed in his familiar scent, cool frost and warm leather, fighting tears.

“There’s your bride for you, Wylfrael. I trust you’ll find her in the same condition as you left her. All dainty human fingers accounted for,” Sceadulyr purred from nearby. “So, you may reign in your bludgeoning, barbaric power and can stop threatening to topple my tower now.”

I tentatively opened my eyes to find we were in a new room, no longer the dome with everyone else. It was a much smaller circular space, the white walls curving upward – one of the cylindrical towers I’d seen from outside. There was no more darkness, and just like in the dome, the sunlight shone in here despite the stone roof.

The roof was shuddering, as were the walls and the floor, the stone vibrating with Wylf’s rage. He ignored Sceadulyr, cradling my face, his gaze piercing through the holes in the mask.

“Are you alright?” he asked, voice strained.

“Yes,” I said shakily. “Yes, I think so. He didn’t do anything.” Nothing besides dance me around until I nearly puked and scare the living daylights out of me, anyway.

Wylf shoved me behind his back, keeping one hand tight around my left wrist, his other hand holding his blade aloft.

“I should kill you for what you just did,” Wylf bellowed, pointing his blade accusingly at Sceadulyr. “Taking a bride from another god is unforgivable!”

Sceadulyr looked completely unperturbed by Wylfrael’s anger, which was a mark of power in and of itself. Even I, who loved Wylfrael and trusted him, was terrified by my husband’s rage, unlike anything I’d ever seen, even when he’d first found me.

“My, my, Wylfrael,” Sceadulyr said smoothly, arching a dark brow, “how sentimental you’ve become under the influence of the starburn. No need for all the dramatics. Your bride is fine. I suggest you stop threatening me, and leave my world, before that is no longer the case.”

“What did you just say?”

Wylf lunged forward, his blade coming to rest right under Sceadulyr’s throat.

Sceadulyr didn’t respond the way any normal person or even alien should have. Instead, he threw his head back and laughed, even though the movement caused his skin to slice, spilling silver blood down his front. His laughter died down, though his unnerving grin remained.

“Try it, Wylfrael. I may not have my star map, but I am just as powerful as I’ve ever been. If you think your stone power and sword can kill my shadows, I relish your challenge.” His voice fell lower, a whisper that somehow echoed everywhere. “But you should know that, if you lose, I will kill you and keep your bride for the rest of her mortal life until she dies alone without you.”

The walls shook harder, white dust and gravel falling like snow. I pulled my husband’s arm, begging him, “Let’s go, Wylfrael. Please, let’s go.”

I couldn’t stand the idea of Wylfrael fighting another stone sky god right in front of me and maybe even losing. He’d explained to me once that the bond of mortality only went one way. The stone sky god’s life became bound to his mortal mate’s, but hers was unchanged. The moment a mortal bride died, so did her bound stone sky god mate. But a mated stone sky god could be killed and his mortal bride would not die instantly the same way. She would live the rest of her natural life, same as she would have done if she’d never even met him.

I couldn’t bear that thought. I’d always operated under the assumption that I’d die before Wylfrael, and the alternative was catastrophic to me.

“Please, Wylfrael!”

Somehow, my pleas got through to my enraged husband. Without another word to Sceadulyr, he lifted me against him with one arm, keeping his sword aloft with the other. My legs went around his waist instinctively, the black skirt of my dress hiking upward as Wylfrael stormed out of the tower’s arched doorway and into the courtyard.

“We’re going back to Sionnach,” he spat. “I was a fool to bring you here.”

“It’s OK, Wylf,” I said, trying to soothe both him and myself. “He really didn’t do anything.”

“He took you from me!” Wylfrael shouted. “That is more than enough to have earned his death. Almost gave it to him, too. But I have to protect you and get you away from here. Your safety is the only thing I care about right now.” Breathing heavily, he slammed his sword into its place on his back and set me on my feet. “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing, really,” I said, wanting to calm the turmoil in my husband. “He danced with me and asked about the humans’ ability to travel through space.”

“Typical,” he scoffed. “He’s getting desperate now that his star map has gone dark. He’s probably looking for any other way to travel now.”

He sighed harshly, running his hand through his hair and gazing steadily at me.

“I’m taking you back to Sionnach. Where you’ll be safe. Then, we’ll reconsider our next move.”

“We can’t reconsider,” I cried. “We have to get you on that council as soon as we possibly can! We have to find Skalla and be strong enough to face him when we do!”

“That can wait-”

“It can’t!”

I panted as Wylfrael watched me with searching eyes.

“It can’t wait,” I said again, taking a deep breath. “Because Skalla’s mate is human.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

Wylfrael

With my bride in my arms, I stepped through the sky door. We had not returned to Sionnach, as I’d originally wanted to.

We’d come to Heofonraed.

Torrance would not accept any more waiting now that she’d learned from Sceadulyr that Skalla’s mate was human. “What if it’s one of my friends?” she’d cried, tears a veil over her eyes. “What if she’s hurt, or needs help?”

Or dead.

I hadn’t said that part out loud, though I thought it rather likely. If Skalla was even half as mad and strong as he was when I’d last fought him, a human woman would not stand a chance. I’d grown to learn by now that the human spirit was strong. But that strength was not matched in body.

I hoped, more for my wife’s sake than anything, that Skalla’s mate was not dead. Torrance had lost enough, she didn’t need to lose this, too.

Torrance in my arms, I touched down on the shining white stone of Heofonraed. The two giant Eaforswynne eyed us closely, and Torrance cringed into my side.

I would rather have left her on Sionnach. Many of the council’s brides chose to stay on their own worlds, but all stone sky gods were required to bring their bride to witness the vote that would either help them gain entrance onto the council, or reject them.

“I, Wylfrael of stone sky and Sionnach, have brought my bride to the gates of Heofonraed,” I shouted. “I have come to face the council and to request a vote of membership.”

I held Torrance tightly, keeping my gaze fixed on the gates. For a long moment, nothing happened, and I wondered if Maerwynne had been wrong, if the council wouldn’t even open their gates for this.

But then, just when I was considering shouting again, the gates parted, swinging inwards without a sound. Torrance breathed out unsteadily at the sight of Heofonraed’s great hall – a huge, towering structure of dark red material that looked more like opaque crystal than the stone of the gates.

Not wanting to dawdle, lest the gates slam shut in our faces, we passed through them. Much like the gates, the large red doors of Heofonraed’s hall opened soundlessly and without anyone around seeming to have done it. Inside, the walls encased us in red, the floor the same white stone as outside.

But there was nothing else. No one in the space.

“Will you not come and greet us?” I called. “I will stand before the council for the vote!”

Silence.

“What’s going on?” Torrance asked, unease clear in her lovely voice.

“I do not know,” I answered honestly. “I expected the council would have met us here. The gates and doors can only be opened from the inside, so I know they are here.” Members of the council could leave Heofonraed temporarily, to take care of any business or to visit their mates on another world. But there were always at least two members at Heofonraed at all times.

“Wylfrael.”

Torrance jumped, slamming a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming at the sound. My name boomed in the space. My jaw worked, my eyes tracking everywhere, searching for the source.

“You have come before the council seeking membership. To do so, you must pass our trial.”

“Trial?” I snapped, spinning in the space, drawing my sword. “What trial?”

Joining the council required winning a majority vote among the members. That was it. There had never been any trial.

Things have changed since I’ve been gone.

The voice said nothing more. Instead, I heard something else. A terrible roar that shook Heofonraed’s walls.

“What is that?” Torrance whispered, her eyes huge behind her mask, her face pale.

“I don’t know,” I said again, “but I do not like it.”

The roar sounded again, terrible and agonized, and I realized with a sick lurch that it was coming closer. Coming closer to Torrance.

This must be the trial, I realized. Facing and killing whatever is making that noise.

Fear tightened my grip on my blade. Not fear for me, but for my bride.

“Stay here,” I hissed at her through clenched teeth.

“Wylfrael, wait, wait!” she cried. But I did not turn, and I did not answer. I had a monster to kill.

I sprinted through Heofonraed’s halls, turning red corner after red corner, running towards the roars. The creature was making its way to me as well, the labyrinthian distance between us collapsing as we barrelled towards each other. Finally, as I skidded around a corner, it came into view.

It was huge, and ugly, a roiling, round black body with numerous legs spilling out from its sides. Easily twice as tall as I was and much wider than my wingspan, it fixed me with a single dull eye and opened its monstrous maw, howling.

I was in the air in an instant, slashing and hacking with my blade. I quickly realized I could not use any of my power in this trial. The shining stone walls of the palace did not respond to my focus, and neither did the body of the beast I fought with.

I would have to rely solely on my physical body, my blade, and my fighting skills to defeat this thing. I flew over it, stabbing along its hunched spine. The thing writhed and shrieked in rage, but it did not slow down. It had no wings, but it climbed the walls with ease, taking away my advantage of height.

As we fought, I lost all sense of time and space. I lunged and stabbed and slashed, while the monster howled and battered me. We rolled and flew and crawled through the halls. As we rampaged, dread unfurled heavy wings inside me. The monster was not responding to my attacks as I’d thought it would, and without my power to subdue it, I began to worry that it could not be killed.

That dread turned to fear when I realized we’d ended up back in the main hall. The place where I’d left Torrance.

NO, I screamed inside my own head, fighting harder, driving my sword deeper, over and over again, though this putrid thing did not even bleed. But Torrance was here somewhere, Sionnach save me, I could smell her. New strength infused my limbs, my primal need to protect Torrance overriding all else. For the first time, I began to drive the beast back. It retreated, its many legs skittering, until I’d backed it against the wall. My arms moved faster than they ever had. I felt like I was chasing something, something important, and that if I only moved fast enough, buried my sword deep enough, I’d find it.

Triumph and rage swirling inside me, I plunged my sword forward, right through the creature, pinning it to the wall. Instantly, it stopped moving.

Cursed stars, all I could smell was Torrance, along with something else, something bitter and familiar.

“Torrance!” I bellowed, twisting, keeping my arms in place while I looked for her. But she wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere.

The starburn hit me one treacherous moment too late. Too late to have warned me. Too late to have helped me sense what I was doing, what I’d done.

Fever slamming through my body, I snapped my gaze back to the monster only to find it gone. A mere illusion, a collection of shadows dispersed into dust. And the one I’d pinned to the wall with my blade…

Was Torrance.

I screamed so loudly I thought I’d smash my own ribs with the force. Totally obliterate myself. There she was, my perfect one, my snow-and-honey-eyed girl, my beloved little bride, my mate, my mate, my mate, unblinking and unmoving, slumped over my blade.

Words smashed against each other in my reeling brain. Words like no, no, no and whispering echoes of Rúnwebbe’s prophecy.

Fated bride of Wylfrael. Starburning, but afraid,

And when she dies it will be by her husband’s hand and blade.

I’d tried to outrun it. Tried to hide from it. Tried not to seek out my fate.

But fate had found me anyway.

Found me, and left me ruined.

Not knowing what else to do, I scooped my beloved, so limp, so cursedly limp, Sionnach save me, into my arms. I wanted to pull out the sword but knew it would do no good. She’d only bleed out faster that way.

I could feel her heartbeat, slow and weak against me as I ran out the doors and the gates.

And I could feel it stop as I launched madly into the air.

The council could not, would not help me. That was as clear as summer Sionnachan sky. They’d orchestrated this for some reason – set up this illusion so that I’d kill my own mate and therefore kill myself. It was only the fact I hadn’t starburned or given Torrance my knot yet that I was still alive.

I starburned now, though. A harrowing heat searing through my limbs, making my wings quake as I pulsed them in ragged strokes, bringing us ever higher. The cruelty of the timing made me want to die. I should have. Back in Heofonraed’s halls. I should have disappeared for what I’d done. Should have gone with her into the dark.

“Torrance, Torrance, I love you. Love you. Please, please, please don’t go.”

I begged her as I flew, knowing she’d already gone but not able to accept that I merely held a body now and not my beloved.

There’s still time, I told myself, fierce with desperation, latching onto one last mad, unlikely hope. There was only one god I knew who could beat back the shadows of death without the council’s power. Vowing that I’d make him help me even if it killed me, I channelled all my remaining strength into opening a sky door. I flung myself through it, clutching Torrance as I hurled back into the sky of the Shadowlands.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Wylfrael

By the time I crashed down into Sceadulyr’s courtyard, night had fallen, and all the other gods were gone.

“Come out, Shadowlands god!” I screamed into the star-pricked sky. “Come out here and face me!”

I need not have shouted so. He peeled himself out of nearby darkness, like seeping liquid freezing into something solid before my very eyes.

“I do not remember inviting you back here after your earlier insolence,” Sceadulyr said, walking agonizingly slowly towards us. I ignored his words, holding Torrance up, like an offering, a terrible homage to what I’d done.

“Save her,” I gritted out. “She is dying.”

Sceadulyr normally schooled his features into whatever emotion he wanted others to see. But even he could not hide his shock at what he saw in my arms.

“She’s dead, I think you mean,” he said, silver pupils large as he stared down at my bride. “And, if I am not mistaken… is that not the very sword you cut me with in my own home, Wylfrael?” The shock on his face melted into a taunting sneer. The cursed god was enjoying this. Enjoying my pain, enjoying how I suffered. “Clearly, you are entirely too careless with your blade.”

“Save her,” I hissed. My arms shook. “Save her, or I will destroy you and this entire world.”

I meant it, too. The agony inside me expanded like a storm, howling, burying everything. I’d kill him. I’d kill everyone. No one else deserved to live when she did not.

Especially me.

Sceadulyr’s silver gaze was flat and merciless.

“Your threats bore me, Wylfrael. Tell me why I should help you and your pathetic human mate when you have nothing that I want.”

My arms shook even harder. I’d never felt like this – so helpless. So weak. I hated it almost as much as I hated myself.

“I do have something,” I said, hoping against hope that it would be enough. “I have a star map.”

Sceadulyr tensed slightly.

“And?” he said. He sounded like he did not care, but I knew that he did.

“And I will lend my powers to you. I will open sky doors for you, sky doors anywhere, for as long as you want.”

I didn’t want to owe Sceadulyr like this. But there was no other choice. I was on the brink of begging him.

“Take the deal I offer,” I hissed. “Take it. If you save my mate, I will help you find yours and restore your star map.”

Sceadulyr regarded me emotionlessly for so long I thought he’d refuse.

But then, in the casually sudden way one might announce what they intended to eat for breakfast, he said, “Alright. I’ll do it. Bring her inside.”

“Thank you,” I said tightly as I followed him into his palace.

“I don’t want your thanks,” Sceadulyr replied. “Just your star map.”

He led me into a room at the base of a tower that had some furniture and directed me to put Torrance down on a chaise longue with a white linen cushion. Sceadulyr frowned as I did so.

“I hope you know you’ll owe me a new cushion if she bleeds all over that,” he muttered.

It took every ounce of stone sky will inside me not to smash his head in.

“Just hurry up,” I snapped. “Forget the cursed cushion.”

“Patience, Wylfrael, patience,” he chided. “She’s not going to get any deader.”

Sceadulyr was possibly, no, certainly, the most maddening god in the cosmos. But right now, the putrid shadow wielder was all I had. I ground my fangs against each other, swallowing everything I wanted to say, and focused on Torrance.

But looking at her was even more maddening in its own torturous way. My anger at Sceadulyr froze and shattered inside me, turning to grief that threatened to consume me. I’d lain her on her back, and her head was turned towards me. I peeled away the mask from her pale, cool skin, and knelt beside her, taking her little hand in mine.

Please, please don’t go.

“Stop holding her hand, you sentimental fool. I need you to pull out the sword,” Sceadulyr said. He stood on the opposite side of the chaise longue, his hands poised in the air above Torrance.

“You won’t let her bleed out?” I said, rising unsteadily to my feet and gripping the blade’s handle with both hands.

“Need I remind you of the cushions?” he said crisply. “Besides, her heart has stopped, so there won’t be much pumping out of her before I fix that.”

“Fine. Just fix her. Ready?”

“Always, Wylfrael. I expected you’d know that by now.”

I breathed in deeply, giving Torrance’s beautiful face one last, longing look before I slid the sword smoothly out of her chest. Sceadulyr’s eyes fell shut immediately, concentration furrowing his pale brow. Shadowy shapes swarmed over the table, sinking into Torrance’s wound, stopping blood from flowing out.

“Cursed skies, Wylfrael, you’ve really made a mess of her,” Sceadulyr growled, his lips twitching with the effort of whatever he was directing his shadows to do inside her body.

“Just fix her,” I said again, softly this time. I dropped my blade, unable to stand the red that coated it. Torrance wasn’t breathing. My hands curled into fists.

“Why hasn’t she revived yet? Why is it taking so long?”

Sceadulyr’s eyes opened, and he scowled at me.

“It is taking so long because, Wylfrael, every moment you deprive a mortal creature of blood flow after death is a moment that damage is inflicted, particularly in the brain. Perhaps you cannot appreciate that fact, as you do not seem to have one.”

I bristled at his insult but kept my mouth shut.

“My shadows have to work through every organ. I must make repairs, and her body is unfamiliar to me. If I woke her up now, she’d be alive, but would never stand, walk, or talk again. Is that what you want?”

“No!” I shouted.

“Then kindly make yourself useful by shutting up. You’re distracting me.”

I obeyed him, even though it physically pained me. I wanted to question his every move, wanted to understand what he did every moment. The feeling of helplessness came back, squawking and clawing at me, as I watched another god save my bride when I could not.

Feverish and afraid, I stared at my slaughtered bride, unable to do anything else besides wait and wonder and apologize to her in silence.

Sceadulyr worked all night. The only reason I registered time passing was because warm dawn light began to filter through the room, though there were no windows, replacing the earlier moonlight. By the time dawn became full morning, cracks were showing in Sceadulyr’s control. He’d started out standing upright but was now hunched over Torrance, fingers curling with tension. His eyes were screwed shut, his nose and mouth twitching. His head was tilted slightly to the side, as if listening hard for something just out of earshot.

I wanted to whisper his name, to scream at him, but I was too afraid to break his concentration now. I felt that we were nearing the end of the process. I just did not yet know what the result would be. I’d watched Torrance so closely that I’d almost fooled myself into thinking she had started breathing several times when she had not.

“Almost there,” the Shadowlands god croaked through tense fangs.

Sceadulyr’s voice had broken the silence and shattered my fear of speaking. All the questions I’d held back poured out in a tumbling rush.

“Almost there? Almost where? Stone of the sky, will she live, Sceadulyr?”

Slowly, Sceadulyr straightened up. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck, rubbing a hand down his face before opening his eyes.

“She already lives. I venture to think she will continue to do so as long as you don’t run her through with any more swords.”

I’d been standing, having spent much of the night pacing, but now I fell to my knees. I grasped Torrance’s hand, breathing so hard I almost missed the soft, whistling sound of her breath.

He’s done it. She lives.

“She will need time to recover,” Sceadulyr said. “I’ve done all I can, repaired the internal damage and pushed death’s darkness back, but it will take time for her to awaken, and more time beyond that for her to fully regain her strength, puny as it is.”

Her strength wasn’t puny. It was monumental. The most awe-inspiring thing I’d ever witnessed. Every breath she took was a testament to her power.

And, as much as I hated to admit it, to Sceadulyr’s.

“Thank you,” I told him, unable to tear my gaze away from Torrance’s face, where the tiniest blush of colour was ebbing into her cheeks.

“I already told you I don’t care about your thanks.” Sceadulyr bent to retrieve the blade from the floor, frowning at the dark, cracked blood. He held it out to me, but I ignored it. I couldn’t look at it. Couldn’t touch the blade now. Sceadulyr tossed it back down. He sidled over to a nearby wall, leaned back against it, crossed his arms, and stared at me.

“What is it?” I grunted. “You’re done here. Go rest.”

“Not quite done here, yet,” he intoned. “I have questions for you, Wylfrael.”

I suppressed a groan. I should have known that I wouldn’t have gotten away with a simple trade, offering my star map in exchange for Torrance’s life.

“Fine. What?” I asked. I held Torrance’s hand between both of mine, gently rubbing her smooth knuckles along my chin and jaw.

“Well, perhaps most obviously, how in the stone sky did this happen?”

I thought about lying, or not answering. But I’d have to share news of this eventually, at the very least to warn other stone sky gods away from trying to join the council. Haltingly, I told Sceadulyr of all that had come to pass after I’d left the gathering.

“Hmm,” he said slowly. “Well, that answers some things but confuses others. Only mortal gods can put themselves forward to join the council. Which brings me to my next question. Why are you alive?”

“I have not given her my knot yet,” I said, avoiding the whole messy truth of the bargain Torrance and I had created, our fake marriage, the lies we’d crafted together.

“So, you wanted to fool your way onto the council, even though you are not mortal yet?’ Sceadulyr probed.

I let out a biting sigh.

“Yes.” A sudden thought hit me, sent me reeling. “You do not think they knew? And that is why this happened…”

Could the council have somehow seen through our ruse? Was this a punishment?

“As much as I would love to take any opportunity to wax poetic about your stupidity and lack of foresight, Wylfrael, I do not think so. I know of at least two other truly mortal, mated gods who have not been heard from since they attempted to join the council. It now seems very clear to me that they killed their mates, as you did, but because they actually followed our rules and our ways, they died in the act.”

“Well, perhaps I’m not so lacking in foresight after all, then,” I grumbled. “If I’d played by the council’s rules, Torrance and I would both be dead now.”

“True.” He leaned his head back against the wall, looking down at me through lowered lids. “Word will get out about this, you know. The other gods must be warned. What will you tell them, about why you lived when others did not?”

“I’ll simply tell them that by some stroke of luck, I didn’t kill Torrance. She was badly wounded, and almost died, but I got her here just in time.”

“I suppose you expect me to go along with that flimsy story as well, then? Since you’ve now pulled me into this mess.”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” Sceadulyr said, pushing off from the wall. “Torrance can recuperate here. As soon as you are able, we will begin.”

“Begin…?”

“Our travels, of course,” Sceadulyr said brusquely. “I have many worlds to comb through yet before I find my mate.”

I placed Torrance’s hand gently down and rose to face Sceadulyr.

“No. As soon as I am able, I will open a sky door to Sionnach. That is where my bride will heal.” There wasn’t even the slightest sliver of a chance I would leave her here, vulnerable and unprotected in the Shadowlands, while Sceadulyr dragged me by my balls across the cosmos.

Sceadulyr regarded me with raised brows.

“And what do I have to ensure that you will actually return here and hold up your end of things if I let you take her away now?”

“My word,” I grunted.

He laughed bitterly.

“Ah, yes. Your word. It holds a lot of weight, very credible. Especially after you went before the council and lied about your mortality, and now will lie to every other stone sky god who asks about what happened here.”

“This is the deal,” I bit out. “I will not leave this world without her.”

“It’s like trying to reason with a block of ice,” Sceadulyr muttered. “Alright. I agree to your terms. Take her back to Sionnach as soon as your strength allows you, and return here in three days to open the first sky door for me.”

“Three days? It is not enough. I-”

“This is the deal,” he snapped, shooting my own words back at me. “You’d be wise to remember that everything I have done here I can yet undo.”

We stared at each other in silence until I finally agreed.

“Three days,” I acknowledged, turning back to Torrance. Sceadulyr smiled and strode from the room.

“Three days,” he called over his shoulder, as if I needed reminding. “I’ll be waiting.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Torrance

Icracked my eyes open, laying totally still. Silver-bright light flooded the room, and a familiar, soft mattress was beneath my back. What wasn’t familiar was the exhaustion pinning my limbs to the bed, and the straining ache in my chest every time I took a breath.

I’m… I’m in our room.

My head felt like it was full of snow, like my brain had been frozen. I trudged through my own thoughts and memories, trying to remember what had happened. We’d gone to the gathering, and after Sceadulyr’s stunt, we’d left in a hurry…

For Heofonraed.

I gasped, pain shooting through my ribs and lungs. Where was Wylfrael? The last time I’d seen him was when he’d left me in the hall, chasing down some unseen monster. The events came back to me slowly, then in a rush. He’d been gone so long that I’d grown afraid. And not just afraid… That’s right, I’d been sick. Wracked with fever and chills, growing so weak I’d slumped back against one of the red walls and…

And, nothing. I had no recollection of what had happened after that. We’d obviously come home to Sionnach. But how? When?

I tried to turn my head, but couldn’t. Tried to speak, but it took enormous effort just to peel my sticky tongue from the roof of my mouth. Finally, I whispered, “Wylf?”

It was like I’d muttered a powerful incantation. As if I’d conjured him, his face appeared instantly over mine.

“Torrance!”

I’d never seen my husband look quite like this. He looked distraught. His hair was a ragged mess, like he’d been running his hands through it over and over again, and his eyes blazed dully through a haze of pained exhaustion.

“What… What…” I couldn’t manage the whole question of What happened?

“Here, drink this,” Wylfrael urged. He slid a hand beneath my head, helping lift it from the pillows as he placed a cup to my lips. The sweet milk felt so good in my dry mouth, but every swallow made me whimper with pain. He pulled away the cup, his lips pulling downward fiercely.

“Don’t try to talk, beloved,” he said. “Save your strength.”

I tried to nod, but couldn’t even do that.

“Save your strength,” he said again, “and I will explain everything in time. When you are stronger. Just sleep and…” The look of pain intensified on his face. “And I will see you when I return.”

Return?

You’re going away?

I asked the question with my tired eyes, and Wylfrael read it there.

“I know, beloved. Sweetness, I know,” he groaned. He bent, rubbing his forehead against mine. “But it’s been three days, and Sceadulyr is waiting. I couldn’t bear to go before you’d woken and I waited as long as I could, but I’ve run out of time.”

I blinked heavily, trying to stay awake, to understand what he was saying. Why was he going away? Why was he seeing Sceadulyr? Why did my chest feel like I’d been kicked by a horse?

Even just thinking exhausted me. The tender ghost of Wylfrael’s lips grazing my temple, I drifted back into the deep.

When I awoke again, I felt a little more clear-headed. I could actually move my head, too, which I considered to be a vast improvement. What wasn’t an improvement, though, was that Wylfrael wasn’t here this time. Tears gathered in my eyes, and one slipped out. I was afraid of his absence, afraid of my own pain, afraid of what I didn’t remember. And I needed my husband here.

“Oh, oh! Torrance! You’re awake!”

I smiled weakly through the tears. At least I’m not totally alone.

“Torrance! Here! Lord Wylfrael said to make sure you drink something when you next woke up.” Aiko’s surprisingly strong hands hoisted me into a slouchy sitting position against the pillows and headboard. My head swam, and my chest cramped up. I breathed slowly, trying not to faint, as Aiko lifted a cup to my lips. Swallowing the hot liquid hurt, just like it had last time, but I knew if I didn’t get some fluids and calories into me soon I would get even weaker.

“What happened?”

I was actually able to get the words out this time, at least.

Aiko placed the cup down on the crystal table and hurried back to the bed.

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you much,” she said. She looked anxious, her eyes wide with concern as she spoke. “Five days ago, Lord Wylfrael brought you back here. You were unconscious, and he said that you’d been badly injured. Apparently, another stone sky god helped heal you, and now Lord Wylfrael owes him a debt of service. He had to return to that god’s world two days ago.”

Sceadulyr…

It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start. At least I knew why I was so weak and in pain – something had happened to me. I just didn’t know what yet.

I’d have to wait for Wylfrael to return to explain it all.

My chest seized up when I thought of him. Emotional pain twining with physical. I missed him, and I tried not to get too sensitive about the fact that he was off doing something for Sceadulyr instead of being here with me.

I trust him, I reminded myself. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.

I resolved to wait for him.

But as the days passed, it got hard. Really fucking hard. Every morning I woke up calling his name in my sleep, only for Aiko to tell me that he had not yet come back. Every night I fell into exhausted slumber, hoping to feel him curl around me.

He didn’t.

The only upside to the days blurring into each other without him – ten days, then twelve – was that I continued to get stronger. I wanted to make him proud, wanted to impress him with how well I was doing when he got back, which encouraged me to keep eating, keep drinking, keep trying to take a few shaky steps across the bedroom, holding tightly to Aiko or Shoshen’s hand.

After two miserable weeks, in the middle of the night, he finally came.

It brought back memories. Memories of our early days, when he’d disappeared into the Sionnachan villages every day and had watched over me silently at night. I could feel him there, bending over me just like he’d used to, even without opening my eyes.

“Wylfrael…” I turned over in the bed, reaching blindly for him, my hands tangling in his hair and pulling his face down to mine. He stiffened, as if afraid that even kissing me would hurt me, but then with a groan dragged his mouth over mine.

My heart hammered, slamming my chest with pain while simultaneously flooding the place between my legs with heat. I moaned and spread my legs, my nightgown riding up around my hips, my bare pussy grinding against the fur blankets, searching for him.

But he didn’t give me what I wanted, what I needed. He tore himself away, cursing under his breath, wings slamming open as he paced the room with raging steps.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Hurt, and not just physical hurt, plagued me.

“Stronger every day,” I said. “You’d know that if you’d have been here.”

It was like my words had stabbed him through the heart. He stopped pacing, agony scorching his features.

“I know!” he snapped. “I know. But Sceadulyr has me by the throat. Every time I tried to break the bargain or get leave to return to you, he dangled your death over my head like a cursed blade about to fall!”

“What are you talking about?” I cried, wriggling into a seated position, something I could do on my own now. “What the hell is going on, Wylfrael?”

He breathed out heavily, his broad, strong shoulders sagging. He returned to the bed, sitting on the edge and twisting his torso to face me.

“I have thought, long and hard, about how I would tell you what has happened,” he said softly. “About how I could explain this all to you.”

He looked so fucking sad that it scared me. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, chest pounding painfully.

“The first thing that I must say is that I’m sorry, Torrance. I am sorry for so much. I do not ever hope to earn your forgiveness, even though I am weak enough to want it.”

“You’re scaring me,” I whispered.

His eyes were haunted as they trekked over my face.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“Nothing!” I cried, all my confusion and frustration from the past two weeks flowing out of me like lava. “I remember the gathering. And Heofonraed. You went to go fight, to do the trial. And I was alone for so long. Fucking terrified. And then I got sick. Like I had a fever. I was so sick I’m pretty sure I lost consciousness because that’s where everything ends.”

“Fated bride of Wylfrael, starburning but afraid…”

“What? What does that mean? You’re not making any sense!”

He didn’t try to explain the bizarre thing he’d just said. Instead, he took in a short, sharp breath, and said, “I killed you.”

The world tilted, and I fought to right it.

“OK, now you’re really not making any sense. Pretty sure I’m alive and talking to you right now,” I snapped.

“You are alive now, it is true. Thanks to Sceadulyr,” Wylfrael replied.

I shook my head, over and over again, uncertainty rising in me like nausea.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

“You’ve asked me, several times now, why I wouldn’t go search out my fated mate.”

I froze. Was he finally going to explain that to me? And why now?

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.

“Because I knew that this would happen, in a way.” Wylf’s voice grated, and he sounded just as exhausted as I was. “I knew that this would happen to her. I just didn’t know that she was you. When I went to see Rúnwebbe, she did not just give me webbing, but also a prophecy. She told me I would kill my fated mate with my own blade. So, I vowed never to find her. Little did I know, she’d already found me. She was in my Dawn Tower the entire time… A partner and a pawn. Trapped under the arching sky of dawn.”

“That’s why you never wanted to find your bride. You didn’t want to hurt her,” I replied, slowly sifting through what he’d just said.

“Yes,” he murmured gruffly. “But I was a fool. Every step I took away from her, to keep her safe, was one step closer to you and to your death.” His fingers brushed my jaw, and I whimpered, leaning into the touch I’d craved for so long. “The one I was trying to stay away from was you all along, Torrance. You are my fated bride. My eternal mate. That fever you felt in Heofonraed wasn’t illness. It was the starburn.”

“But… How… Why? Why did you…”

“Kill you?” His voice turned raw. “I go over and over that moment in my mind. Trying to find out if there was another way. If I could have sensed it, stopped it.” He pulled his fingers from my face, fisting them in his lap. “The monster I was fighting was an illusion. One of the members of the council must have some kind of shadow power similar to Sceadulyr’s. It wasn’t real, but as I fought, I thought it was. And when I slayed it with my blade, I-” His words shattered, breaking off.

“You hit me instead,” I finished quietly for him.

“Yes.”

He didn’t look at me now. My huge, strong husband was hunched over, pain radiating off of him in waves so thick I could practically see them, catch them in my hands.

“So, you couldn’t see me, and didn’t know it was me,” I said, making sure I fully understood.

“No, I did not see you,” he confirmed. He gave a bitter snort. “I thought I was protecting you. I was terrified because I knew you were near. I could smell you, and it made me strike even harder. Almost immediately, the illusion faded, and I saw what I had done.”

Oh, my God.

Even though I was the one who’d gotten hurt, who’d apparently even died, pain for my husband exceeded my own. I couldn’t even imagine what that must have been like – knowing he’d hurt me. Killed me. Knowing that the brutal prophecy he’d tried so hard to avoid had come true anyway, despite all his efforts, or maybe even because of them.

I reached up, touching the large, shiny pink scar between my breasts through my nightgown.

“Then what happened?” I asked. The things he was telling me were like a story that had happened to someone else. A movie I’d watched once, or a dream. It didn’t feel real.

“I knew the council would not help me. They’d expected me to die in that instant, no doubt. I took you to Sceadulyr. He revived you, and in return, I must open sky doors for him, for as long as it takes until he finds his mate. Or, until I die, I suppose.”

Until he dies…

“So, you’ve… you’ve starburned, then?”

“Yes,” Wylf said. “It started the moment my sword sank into you. Rather cruel timing.”

“So right now, you have the… the…”

“A knot? Yes.”

Heat flared in my belly as I wondered what it looked like. But I doubted he was in the mood to show me. He seemed cagey and uncomfortable. Like he didn’t even know me, or maybe didn’t know himself.

“Wylf,” I whispered, tears squeezing the word, “would you look at me? Hold me?”

His wings shuddered, and his jaw worked.

“I do not feel that I deserve to touch you, beloved. Not now.”

“But what about what I need, what I want?” I sobbed, tears streaming. “Don’t I deserve to be touched by the one I love?”

“You love me,” he said slowly, like he didn’t believe it, “even after all of this. All I’ve told you, all I’ve done…”

“Yes,” I said adamantly. “And even more than that, I forgive you.”

Wylf tensed, his spine going straight.

“No,” he said roughly, “no, beloved. Please don’t forgive me. I have not earned it yet.”

“You can start earning it by coming here and holding me, then! You ridiculous, stubborn man!” I cried, anger fusing with my sadness. “I’ve been here without you for days. Days and nights of pain and loneliness and wanting you. And now, you’re finally here, and you’re more interested in self-flagellation than giving me what I need! And in case it wasn’t clear, what I need is you!”

He sat still and straight, and I thought with a lurch he’d turn me down. But then, like crystal dropped on the floor, shattering, the pieces exploding outward with violent motion, he burst into movement. With a rasping growl, he turned and wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me into his lap. My legs spread across his thighs, straddling him, and I moaned at the hardness pressing against me. It felt different, thicker in the middle than before. The knot.

Wylfrael ran shaky hands under my nightgown, his breathing ragged, his mouth everywhere. Between sucking kisses along my throat, words rushed out of him.

“I’m so sorry, Torrance. I’m sorry. I love you so, so much. I love you while I entirely hate myself. I want to punish myself, to keep away, to never let myself near you because I could never hope to deserve you again. But I am weak, beloved. So weak that my need for you outweighs any questions of deserving or punishment or pain.”

“No more punishment. No more pain,” I breathed, rubbing myself tenderly against him, feeling him throb and groan. “We’ve had enough of that for a hundred lifetimes.” I placed my hands on either side of his jaw, kissing him softly before locking gazes fiercely with him. I wanted to banish that haunted look from his eyes. “I forgive you, Wylf. You may not accept that yet, but I do. You can hate yourself if you want to, but I never will. Not anymore. You’re my husband. My mate. For as long as we both shall live, remember? ’Til death do us part. Well, death already came, and even that couldn’t part us. Because I’m still fucking here and I still fucking love you.”

I kissed him again, then reached to undo the laces of his trousers. He caught my wrists in his hands, as if to stop me.

“It’s OK, Wylf,” I murmured against his lips. “You don’t need to worry about protecting me. The prophecy is fulfilled. It’s done. You’re free now.”

Wylf shuddered and released my wrists.

I undid his trousers, pulling out his cock. It was thick and heavy and so fucking hard, glistening at the tip. The shape had changed, and I stared in fascination at the way it bulged in the middle, a hot, round swell so engorged it almost looked painful.

I reached a tentative hand forward, brushing the swell with my fingers. Wylf hissed in response, and I started to stroke, using both hands, wrapping them around the thick bulge and kneading it experimentally.

As I touched him, a prickling fever spread through my spine. My blood heated, and goosebumps pebbled down my arms. I shivered, weakness gripping me, weakness I thought I’d largely overcome in my recovery.

“Wylf,” I moaned, afraid of the sudden change in my body.

“Torrance, beloved, you’re starburning.”

Wylfrael eased me onto my back in the bed while my limbs convulsed, frosted fire licking through my veins. I was burning, boiling and freezing, every nerve inflamed to the point of ecstatic agony. My nipples hardened, and I arched on the bed, shivering uncontrollably. Something in me was changing. I was changing. Slick fluid soaked the place between my legs, and my insides clenched and stretched, feeling hot and cold and so fucking empty.

“I need you,” I groaned, the words distorted by my chattering teeth. Wylf ran soothing hands down my body, massaging trembling tightness from my quivering thighs.

“You need my knot,” he corrected me gruffly.

“No,” I whimpered. “Need you.”

“Torrance, curse me, Torrance. I’ll give you everything. Everything I have, everything I am.” He eased my thighs apart with a choked groan. “Stone of the sky, you’re already so ready for me.”

“Hurry,” I cried. I needed, needed, needed, right there, right between my legs. Deep inside, I needed fullness and firmness and pressure. I knew instinctively that it was the only thing that would help me, the only thing that would save me now.

Wylfrael pressed his slick tip to my wetness, and I trembled, breath burning in my throat. I fisted the furs, my spine arching right off the mattress. The pain in my chest was a distant echo to the agony between my legs, a need only Wylfrael could fill.

He pressed inside, sinking all the way up to his knot in one brutal movement. Before now, it had taken foreplay and adjusting to even get this much of him inside me. But now? It was nowhere near enough.

Wylfrael rocked into me, his knot grazing my folds with every thrust, a teasing kiss of sensation that made my fever spike higher. I was a desperate thing, wild and writhing, trying to drag him harder into me.

“I give you everything, Torrance,” Wylf rasped, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. “My knot. My life. My death.”

His words cut through the manic heat in my brain.

“Wait!” I gasped. “If you do this, you’ll be mortal. You’re asking me to cause your death! You’re basically asking me to kill you someday!”

“Good,” he growled fiercely. “So, kill me, then.” He grabbed my hands, holding them high over my head, twining his fingers between mine as he pumped into me. “This is what I want, Torrance. I want to be mortal with you. I won’t survive the loss of you – not again.” The motions of his hips grew more chaotic, less controlled. Every thrust drove his knot a little harder against me. Not all the way inside, but almost, a maddening press that made my eyes roll back in my head.

“This is what I want,” he said again, directly against my ear. “I’d rather live for half a heartbeat and make it count than live ten thousand empty lives without you.”

I wept, overwhelmed by his words and the starburn and him. I nodded over and over again, my hair tangling under my head.

“Yes, Wylf, yes. We’ll make it count. I swear, we’ll make it count.”

Wylf buried his face in my neck. His thrusts quickened, as did his breathing, until I was a sopping wet and sobbing mess, desperate and whining when I’d never whined during sex in my entire mortal life. His knot pressed close, so fucking close, teasing me, torturing me, until, with a sudden forceful movement and a guttural cry, he plunged all the way inside.

I gripped Wylfrael, my eyes so wide but seeing nothing, hearing nothing, sensing nothing except him, above me and inside me, his knot hitting some desperate place, stretching it, soothing it, until I was coming like I’d never come before. I quivered and clenched, milking him, my passage fluttering around his knot as he drove it slightly deeper and then froze.

“Torrance, beloved, I give this to you now. Yours and only yours,” he moaned against my ear. I nodded jerkily, tipping my head to the side, searching for his mouth. He started to kiss me, then stopped, his entire body arching as he came, his knot twitching and vibrating inside me with the force of his pleasure and what it meant, what we’d done.

I sobbed again, the beauty and the heaviness of the moment pressing down on me. Wylfrael was mine. And now, he was mortal. Bound to me, his life forever fused to mine. He’d live by my side and die by my side. And we could have a child.

I wept and held him and trembled with the poignant, ephemeral beauty of the future that awaited us. Short, perhaps, by his standards. But absolutely perfect by mine.

Wylfrael remained inside me for a long time, his knot locking us together until it slowly began to return to a more normal size. I fell asleep with him like that, exhausted and filled and never having felt more safe in my entire life. At some point in sleep, I was aware of him easing out of me with a grunt, and when I moaned, half-asleep, he made soothing sounds, kissed my hair, and drew my back close against his chest.

When dawn’s light filtered into the room, the starburn returned in full force, a chilled heat, a primal need that made my already weak limbs into weights I could barely lift or move until I was shivering in Wylf’s arms, whimpering and whining.

“Will I always feel like this?” I moaned as Wylf pressed into me from behind, his shaft hard, the centre swollen and ready.

“No,” he groaned, sinking in up to his bulge, wetting the thick swell with my fluids before pressing it fully inside with a hiss. “The starburn is temporary. I don’t know if yours is lasting so long because you’re human, and you’re sensitive, or because the first time it started, it was interrupted.”

Interrupted when I died.

I didn’t want him to talk about that anymore. Didn’t want to think about death or grief right now. I just wanted my husband to take care of me.

And he did.

He stroked over my breasts, belly, and clit, making me come mere seconds after he’d filled me. He tumbled into bliss soon after, exploding into my shuddering core.

I wanted to stay like that all day. Lying there, with him inside. I would have stayed like that forever if he’d let me.

But as soon as he could, he pulled out. With a flat voice that belied the hate and sorrow beneath, he said, “I must return to Sceadulyr today.”

“No,” I whispered, rolling towards him. “Why?”

He caressed my face tenderly, his expression grim.

“It was the deal I made to save your life. I cannot go back on it now.”

“Don’t go,” I begged, my eyes filling with tears yet again. The starburn had completely fucked my hormones, and I couldn’t control my extreme swings of emotion.

“I must, beloved,” he groaned. “He has made it enormously clear that what he has done for you he will undo if I do not hold up my end of things.”

“But he doesn’t have a star map! He can’t reach us here!”

“He will find a way,” Wylfrael said venomously. “His cleverness is only outweighed by his vengefulness. I have no doubt he’d make both of us pay dearly for abandoning him in the Shadowlands.” His fingers on my jaw hardened. “I absolutely refuse to do anything that puts your life in danger, Torrance.”

I didn’t say anything, just looked at him, my beautiful, agonized husband, my mortal husband. I placed a clammy hand over top of his, nudging my face harder into his touch.

“Alright,” I murmured thickly. It wasn’t just my life in danger, now. If I died, he’d die too. I doubted he was even thinking or caring about his own fate, solely focused on me, but I cared.

“I will return as soon and as often as I can,” he promised, regret clear in his voice. “Aiko and the others will take care of you in my absence.”

But they won’t love me. Not like you.

I kept the words inside, not wanting to add to his pain as he washed and dressed and prepared to leave again.

And when he actually did leave, I knew the stabbing in my chest had nothing to do with my scars.

ONE MONTH BECAME TWO, then three, then four. Eventually, my starburn faded, replaced with a connection to Wylfrael stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. Wylf spent most of his time with Sceadulyr, but as promised, he returned whenever he was able. He brought gifts from other worlds he’d escorted the Shadowlands god to – clothing and gems and spices. He brought me gorgeously scented oils that he massaged into my legs and feet before tenderly sliding his knot into the place I needed it most. He gave me exotic food, too, and when he insisted on feeding it to me, despite my growing strength, he’d inevitably murmur something about husbands and bonbons while dropping sweets between my lips.

During my recovery, I spent a lot of time learning about the Sionnachan writing system and knew enough to make some of the simpler stitches, but when I mentioned in passing to Wylf that I’d like more human-style writing and drawing tools, he brought that back next. They weren’t pens, but paintbrushes, the handles jet black, the bristles red. “From Maerwynne’s world,” he’d told me, handing them to me and then bringing me Sionnachan ink and small squares of silk stretched over frames to draw and write on.

I wasn’t much of an artist. Never had been. But I couldn’t read Sionnachan well enough to spend much time reading, and the effort of reading the alien language made my head hurt after a while. My recovery was going well, all things considered, but my energy was still depleted easily, and I had to rest a lot more than I would have liked. So, I used the paintbrushes. I wrote journal entries in a messy, ink-smeared script, and doodled, drawing flowers and planets and stars. I painted things from my past, too. Blue skies and white clouds. Leafy trees. Maps of Earth. My father’s house.

Winter turned to spring, and by that time I was strong enough to venture downstairs and outside with Aiko or Shoshen’s help. Sionnach was beautiful in winter, and it was glorious in spring. There was no grass, but instead thick spongey plant life that reminded me of clover, the leaves and stems violet, the flowers pink and white. Larger plants grew – bushes with crystal leaves and flowers with crystal petals. I asked Aiko where she got the herbs and fruits for cooking, and she’d shown me that the odd, shining plants had seeds inside gem-like pods with crystal walls so thick they shattered when they hit the ground, dispersing the seeds and stems that were also used for cooking. Small fruits also grew that way, like peas in a pod, and larger fruits as big as melons swelled in hard shells.

Near the castle was a small lake I hadn’t even known was there before. It was so strange seeing water that wasn’t blue but instead a deep, clear pink. I often spent time there during the day, breathing in the cool, clean air while Brekken ran laps around me, wondering if the water would be warm enough for swimming in the summer. I thought, by then, I’d be strong enough for that kind of physical activity. Especially if Wylfrael helped. I sat on the shore, chin on my knees, picturing the two of us in the water, him holding me, helping me drift through the gently lapping waves. Both of us happy. Both of us free.

I wondered if we’d ever get there. If we’d ever just be able to live a somewhat normal life, a life that wasn’t burdened by bargains and duty and distance.

I didn’t know the answer.

But I watched the waves, and painted, and healed.

And I hoped.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Wylfrael

Two things kept me from going entirely insane while away from Torrance. The first was the fact that I could have short visits with her on Sionnach. The second was that Sceadulyr actually seemed to be sincerely searching for his mate. If he’d simply been toying with me, keeping me away from Torrance just to torture me, I was not sure I would have been able to stand it. But beneath his sarcasm and blustering, I could tell his desire to find her was going stronger with every sky door I opened.

I did not know if he cared about finding a mate to love or if he just wanted to restore his star map, but I did not really care. As long as he was not purposely slowing down or impeding our purpose, I could grind my fangs and force myself to continue.

We found the humans quite by accident, after five of what Torrance called “months” of travelling with Sceadulyr. It was a world neither he nor I had ever been to, and, besides the humans’ machine (which I instantly recognized as being the ship I’d seen on my world) there seemed to be no other sentient life here. It was a grey planet of cold mountains and jagged valleys, cold and barren. We did not spend long flying over the surface and were going to leave when the shining metal of the human machine caught my eye. As soon as I saw it, my rage came flaring back. Rage like I’d felt when I’d found them on Sionnach, but a thousand times worse. Because now, I knew what they’d done to Torrance. Now, I knew that they’d not only invaded my world, but also abducted and forced my mate into servitude, along with all her friends.

“You look like you’ve swallowed a poisoned sword, Wylfrael,” Sceadulyr called as he followed me in descent towards the humans’ machine.

Sword. I couldn’t even say the word now. I no longer carried a blade, and I’d left my father’s bloodstained sword on Sceadulyr’s world. I had no idea what had happened to it and never cared to find out.

Sceadulyr learned the cause of my anger quickly. Like last time, warriors with tiny weapons accosted us, shooting little rocks that pinged off my hide like grains of sand. I was much stronger than I’d been last time I’d faced the human forces, and their rock throwers had almost no effect. Sceadulyr was even stronger than I was, having not expended any power to open a sky door here. With a narrowing of his gaze, he landed beside me, washing shadows over the fallen rock things and sending them flying back through the heads of the ones who’d aimed them.

“Don’t hurt any of the unarmed females,” I growled as the warriors crumpled to the ground all around us. “I promised my wife I’d try to find them for her someday and keep them safe on Sionnach.”

For a moment, I wondered if Sceadulyr would argue, if he’d object to me giving him an order. I was not asking him not to harm the human females, I was commanding him, the underlying threat clear in my words.

But instead, he tossed me a lazy grin.

“Of course, Wylfrael,” he said. “I am loath to cause any further strife between you and your lovely little bride. The shadows know you’ve already done enough to hurt her.”

Fury and shame crystallized, then shattered inside me, sending cutting shards throughout my body. I did not have time to fully react to Sceadulyr’s taunt, because more warriors were spilling from the machine, blasting their weapons at us. Between Sceadulyr’s power and mine, taking care of them was short work. But a familiar sound was starting up. The same whirring sound that had indicated the humans’ departure from Sionnach.

“Don’t let them leave!” I snarled. I couldn’t use too much power subduing the machine, because I’d need to open two more sky doors very soon. One, for Sceadulyr. And another, that I would have to keep open for much, much longer, to bring the human women through one by one. Hoping Sceadulyr would listen and assist me in this, instead of using my own power to crush or disable the machine, I stormed inside it, through the opening the warriors had come out of.

Every warrior who met me on the way had his skull crushed and his weapon pulverized. The whirring sound sputtered, then stopped, and with some relief, I realized Sceadulyr must have used his shadows to get inside some necessary component of the machine. I found yet more warriors in a room with a glittering array of buttons and screens and killed them all.

Where are they?

Where were the women? Torrance’s friends? I could not leave without them.

I closed my eyes and stilled, listening and sniffing the air until faint human voices bled through the shining silver walls. I followed the sound, and the thickening scent of human women, until I found them, huddled together in a cowering group in a large open room with many tables and chairs.

Some of them screamed at my entrance. Others closed their eyes and scrunched smaller. Some of them prayed to human gods. A few others, trembling, as angry as they were terrified, lifted their chins and stared, as if daring me to kill them.

“I will not harm you,” I said softly, advancing slowly on the group. My approach alarmed them, and the entire mass of bodies and limbs pressed harder against the wall. They had no webbing and had no idea of what I said. So, I settled on the one word I knew they’d understand, the one word I hoped would make a difference.

“Torrance.”

The shouting and crying died down, like I’d uttered a spell of silence.

“Torrance,” I said again, gruffly this time, just the simple sound of her name wrapping tightly around me, making me ache.

One woman near the front of the group, one of those who’d held my gaze and not cried and screamed, straightened. Black hair with stripes of yellowish pink rustled around her shoulders as she spoke.

“Torrance? What about Torrance?”

What about her…

How could I possibly explain it all? Explain that she was my wife, my mate. My sole reason for living and also the reason I would someday walk happily into death’s darkness?

“Torrance,” I said again. I gestured back the way I’d come through the ship. “I’ll take you to her. I know where she is. Torrance. Torrance.”

I tried to keep my voice calm and steady. I knew enough about humans, having imprisoned my own, that they could be flighty in their fear. I couldn’t afford to lose one of them in the ship, or to have one hurt herself.

“Do you think he has Torrance?” another woman asked. She had brown skin and black hair that fell in tightly-wound, kinky curls to her shoulders. “Are we supposed to go with him?”

“Fuck this!” said another woman. “He’s just like the one who took Suvi!”

“The one who took Suvi?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question, even though I knew they wouldn’t understand. Suvi was likely another human female, and someone had taken her.

I had a feeling I knew exactly who it was.

Cursed skies, Skalla, you better not have harmed her.

I would have to deal with that later. Right now, I needed to convince these women to come with me. That, or essentially abduct them myself and hope my wife forgave me.

“Torrance,” I said again, once again gesturing out of the ship.

“He’s not like the one who took Suvi,” someone in the middle said. “That guy was crazy. He didn’t try to talk to us. Just snatched her and disappeared. He’s trying to talk to us, trying to lead us somewhere.”

“Trying to lead us right into a trap?” the first woman with the stripey hair asked.

“Do we have another choice?” asked the woman with black curls. “It seems pretty obvious he just killed all the soldiers and crew. We can’t fight him.”

I held my hands up in what I had meant to be a placating gesture, but it made several of the women scream, so I quickly lowered them.

I stepped backwards slowly, showing that I was not trying to get closer. Not trying to force them to go with me. It was a bit of a deception – if they did not come easily, I would take them anyway, for their own good – but it seemed to be working. Some of the women started to, ever so slightly, relax.

“I think we should at least go outside,” said the curly-haired woman. “See if Torrance is out there. How would he know her name if she wasn’t with him?”

I grimaced, hoping the fact that Torrance wasn’t directly outside waiting for them wouldn’t cause too much turmoil.

“We all go, or none of us do,” said the stripey-haired one.

“You have no choice,” I muttered. “I cannot leave you here.”

Though none of them understood, it was decided by a quick, whispered vote that they would all venture outside. Once they’re out there, and they see Torrance isn’t there, I must be prepared for them to try to run.

I led the group back out of the machine. When we passed the bodies of the soldiers, many of the women gasped and started crying anew. One of them stopped to vomit before shakily carrying on.

We stepped out of the machine and onto cold grey rock. As anticipated, questions of, “Where’s Torrance?” began to circulate.

None of them were running, though.

At least, not until they saw Sceadulyr.

He stepped out of a shadowy, hidden place by the machine, creating an uproar among the humans.

“Don’t let them run,” I grunted, lifting my hands and using my power to raise the grey stone into high walls that trapped the humans. One of them got away, the one with the brown skin, sprinting past me, her kinky black curls flying. She didn’t get far – I heard her gasp and shout when Sceadulyr grabbed her.

I hadn’t lost any of the other ones. They were all secured, now, in the centre of a ring of high stone walls that I knew they would not be able to scale.

“I can take her back to Sionnach first, then,” I said, turning back to Sceadulyr and the one woman who’d gotten past me.

But Sceadulyr did not look at me. Did not look as though he’d even heard me. He’d caught the woman by the arm, his pale fingers clasped around her bare wrist as she struggled to get away.

One by one, like candles being lit, the stars on his map returned, spreading outward from the place he touched her.

“I am afraid you will not be taking this woman to Sionnach, Wylfrael,” he said. A wicked grin unfolded on his face as his gaze finally flicked to mine. “It seems I no longer require your assistance. Consider the bargain fulfilled and your debt paid.”

Before I could say anything else, he’d scooped up the woman into his arms and launched into the air, his wings spreading like night as he created a sky door and went through it.

Well, that had complicated things. On the one hand, I was immensely relieved to be free of Sceadulyr’s deal. On the other hand, I didn’t think my wife was going to be happy about what had just happened.

But that woman was clearly Sceadulyr’s mate. She’d brought back his star map, and I had no right to intervene now.

Yet another thing I will have to deal with later, I grumbled, returning to the group of women I’d ensconced in the ring of stone.

They screamed and cried and fought, just like Torrance once had, but I accomplished my goal. One by one, I brought them through the sky door and back to Sionnach.

THERE WAS MUCH CELEBRATION upon our return. The human women in the group and Torrance all cried human tears of joy when they were reunited on the summer-warmed land of Sionnach. I hung back with Aiko, Shoshen, and Ashken as the women hugged and cried and laughed.

“We thought you were a goner! We had no idea you were still alive!” the stripey-haired one, whom I now knew was named Min-Ji, said, hugging Torrance so tightly I almost wanted to growl in warning to make her loosen her grip. But Torrance seemed happy, so I held back.

“No, I wasn’t. I mean, I almost was, but…” Torrance’s lovely gaze slid to me. “My husband saved me.”

A beat of silence.

“Excuse me, all this space travel must have completely fucked my hearing,” Min-Ji said. “Did you just say, husband?”

Through the rest of the afternoon, Torrance told her friends all about what had happened, or a version of it, at least. I noticed she left out some of my less noble moments. She didn’t tell them I’d imprisoned her, or that I’d gone on to kill her. Instead, the story she told was one that I wished we could have had. A story of two mates finding each other, learning to trust each other, and falling in love.

Perhaps that was the story we’d gotten in the end. We’d just taken a longer, thornier path to get there.

After Torrance had told her story, I suggested to my wife that we all go inside. Some of the women were looking frightfully pale, something I knew by now was not good. Who knew when they’d last eaten?

Torrance agreed, and together we led the others into the kitchen. The women found places to sit and stand while Aiko flitted about, looking pleased beyond measure to have so many people to feed. She passed mugs of sweetened milk and slices of bread out like it was the most exciting thing she’d ever done.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Min-Ji said, leaning against the counter beside my wife as I wrapped my arm around Torrance’s shoulders. “Now we just need to figure out what to do about Suvi and Marta.”

Torrance frowned.

“When I saw they weren’t here, I’d assumed the worst and that… that they hadn’t made it, the way I wouldn’t have made it without Wylfrael. What happened?”

I hadn’t had a chance yet to tell her of what had happened with Sceadulyr – the tearful reunion had taken precedence over all else.

“I believe Suvi is the human Skalla took,” I cut in. “Sceadulyr found his mate among this group – Marta, I assume – and took her back to the Shadowlands.”

“And you didn’t stop him?” Torrance asked, her eyes widening.

“She brought back his star map. She is his mate. I had no right to intervene.”

“But he just took her!” Torrance snapped, and the other women nodded vigorously, in agreement with her and unable to understand anything I said. “We have to get her back!”

“My priority in that moment was to keep the rest of the women safe,” I responded. “Engaging Sceadulyr in battle would not have accomplished that. He had not opened a sky door at that point, and he had more power. I likely would have died and left everyone at his mercy.”

“At his mercy. Like he has much of that,” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, over the place I knew her scar lingered. “He only helped me to get access to your star map. He would have let me die!”

“Sceadulyr is many things, but he would not let harm come to his own mate,” I asserted. “She will be safe in the Shadowlands. Besides, beloved, she will starburn, if not now, then soon. And when that time comes, she will need him.”

“I still don’t like this,” she muttered. “We all should stick together.”

“I can promise to visit the Shadowlands to check on them, if that would make you happy,” I said, hating how upset she was by this. “But I cannot take her away from him. He would fight me, and now that he has a star map, he would follow me. No other stone sky god would support me in this endeavour, either, so he could easily rally allies to his cause to destroy me and this castle, putting all of us at risk.”

I’d almost killed Sceadulyr merely for dancing Torrance out of the room at the gathering. Stealing another stone sky god’s bride from his world entirely was cause for death.

“Well, what about Suvi? Surely this can’t also apply to her! What if Skalla hurt her?!”

“Man, it’s hard to follow what you guys are saying only understanding one of you,” Min-Ji lamented. “What’s he saying, Tor?”

Torrance sighed tightly, no doubt trying to figure out how to explain nuances of stone sky culture she only just was beginning to understand herself.

“We can’t rescue Marta,” she said. “There’s a lot to unpack, but basically, she’s that other god, Sceadulyr’s, destined mate. If Wylf tried to take her back, he’d probably die, and maybe even all of us, too, in the ensuing battle. But he’s promised to go check on them periodically to make sure Marta is alright. He says that Sceadulyr wouldn’t hurt her.”

Groans and cries of dismay went through the group. They disliked it as much as Torrance did, but there was little to be done.

“So, what were you saying about Suvi, then?” Min-Ji asked. “We can’t rescue her either?”

“If Skalla was still mate-mad, and he hurt her with his full strength, there will be nothing left to rescue,” I said grimly. Torrance shot me a look that my webbing could not translate but that I knew was something along the lines of, you are not helping.

But I wanted to. I wanted so badly to. I wanted to do anything for Torrance, and for her friends, if it would make her happy.

“I can go check on them, too, assuming they are still alive,” I offered. “I cannot know their location for sure, but if they are on Bohnebregg, I can at least go there and see what has become of them.”

“But… without the council’s power…”

“Yes. I know.”

Without the council’s power, I’d likely die facing a berserker Skalla if he hadn’t already died while killing his own mate.

“I don’t want that,” Torrance stammered. “I don’t want you to fight him if it means you might die!”

I brushed my fingers along her cheekbone, and she closed her sad eyes.

“I can try to avoid battle with him, if he is even there. I can simply try to locate Suvi and see if she is alive, then leave.”

“But what if she is alive and in danger? What if he’s still mate-mad or going berserk or both? We can’t leave her there,” Torrance pressed.

“Beloved, if he remained mate-mad for very long after finding her, if he was in the same state as when I last fought him, she will not be alive. If she lives, then he has calmed.”

It was the scenario I hoped for, but one I considered unlikely at this point.

Torrance took a shaky breath and turned to her friends.

“Wylf says he might know where Suvi is. He can’t take her away, but he can check on her, make sure she’s alright.”

She looked at me then, whispering, “Please, please be careful.”

BOHNEBREGG WAS MOSTLY how I remembered it – wide blue rivers, bright sun, gold-tipped rushes, and green stalks of grass swaying in balmy breezes.

Skalla’s palace, though, looked different. It looked like half of it had been smashed to pieces, and only recently rebuilt. I could not tell if that was a good sign or not for what I’d find. I circled the palace in the air, my gaze tracking over its sprawling pavilion-like structure on the banks of this world’s largest river. Memories rushed through me. Memories of Skalla and me, and of our fathers, flying through this sky, bathing in that river.

I could see nothing useful up here. I’d have to land. On silent wings, I did so, stalking through rushes and grass taller than I was, heading for the back of the property, away from the river. The sound of water trickled everywhere, which told me the palace’s many fountains were still working.

I came across one of those fountains now as I exited the swaying plant-life. At the back of the property there was a large garden with stones to walk on. A huge stone basin with a carved statue of a Bohnebregg warrior pouring water from a barrel back into the basin below, creating the sound of water. I remembered that fountain, though there was a crack in it now that I did not recall.

Slowly, keeping my eyes moving at all times, I circled around the fountain, heading closer to the main house. Most of the walls were open to the air in this palace, so I’d be able to see inside much of the structure just by walking around it.

But I didn’t get that far.

Because, stretched out on a bed of river reeds cushioned with soft leather, lying between the fountain and the house, was a human.

A very obviously pregnant human.

She was small, like Torrance, though there was no denying the swell of her abdomen. She lay on her back, one hand flung over her eyes, the other resting atop her rounded stomach. She was nearly nude, wearing only a Bohnebregg garment comprised of glittering metallic threads that barely covered her heavy breasts and dark gold pubic hair. The hair on her head was a bright yellowed-silver, and it spilled across the bed and over the edge.

“Suvi.”

I said her name out loud, though I knew it was a bad idea. But I knew Torrance would want details. She’d want me to talk to Suvi, find out what had happened and how she was doing now.

Suvi’s hand ripped away from her face, and wide, light grey eyes met mine.

She tried to sit up quickly, but was impeded by her stomach. I stepped towards her, to help her, but she sucked in a huge breath and screamed.

“Skalla!”

I did not have time to decide whether to stay or fly. Did not have time to consider the fact that her calling Skalla’s name was probably a very good sign that he was here, sane, and that she trusted him. I spun, and prepared to fight.

Skalla slammed out of the house with so much power, so much rage, I was certain he was still berserk. His wings sliced like blades until his body slammed mine, knocking me to my back.

Instinctively, I brought up my hands to block him from gripping my throat, remembering how he’d nearly strangled me last time. He breathed heavily, growls ripping from his throat, scales rippling with aggression, his one remaining eye fixed on my face.

But slowly, slowly, something came into that eye. Something I thought I maybe recognized.

“Wylfrael?”

He knows me.

I was not prepared for the rush of emotion I felt at that. The affection. The relief. I’d lost my parents and all the Sionnachans I’d once known, and I’d thought I’d lost him, too.

“It’s me, cousin,” I said. “It’s me.”

Skalla got off of me, pulling me up with him. We both turned around to find the bed now empty, Suvi having no doubt fled inside.

“I’m sorry I scared her,” I said. “It was not my intention.”

“What is your intention, Wylfrael? Why are you here?”

“I am here because my own human mate demands that I make sure her friend is alive,” I said. My relief at finding him sane, and his mate alive, was rapidly being replaced with anger. “You are one to speak of my intentions,” I hissed, “When you yourself crashed into Sionnach and almost destroyed everything. You almost killed me twice.”

His thick, scaly tail swept over the stone, his snout tightening.

“I barely remember that. I remember when the madness started, and with my last bits of reason, I went to Sionnach, because I trusted that you would do whatever it took to keep others safe from me.”

“I tried,” I said. “We fought over many worlds. I nearly died, and spent eons recuperating in some foreign desert, under red mountains. Then, you crashed into that world, too. I took you to Heofonraed, but they would not help me.”

“They would not help you either?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Not long after I found Suvi and rationality returned to me, I went to them. Suvi wanted to find out what happened to the other women. But they would not open their gates or hear my petition for information.”

“There is much that I must tell you,” I said darkly. I filled him in on my recent trip to Heofonraed with Torrance. Unlike the censored version that Torrance had told her friends, I gave him all the details on how they’d fooled me into killing her and how I’d gone to Sceadulyr after.

“Ill tidings,” Skalla said, turning his head to look at the house that his mate had retreated into. If not for the mangled eye, he looked almost exactly as he once had. His hair no longer wild and tangled, but oiled and smooth, tied into a long braid. The beautiful Bohnebregg prince I’d always loved.

“Clearly, the council thought you’d die. It’s an easy way to kill a stone sky god, to target his mortal mate that way. Cowardly,” his voice hardened, fangs flashing. “Pathetic. What is their purpose?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve warned every stone sky god Sceadulyr and I have come across in our travels, told them not to take their mates there or try to join.”

Skalla ran his hand down his braid and hissed a sigh.

“This can mean nothing good. This is something we will have to address, and soon. His gaze softened, turned far away. “Right now, I have little room in my head or heart for anything but her and the babe.”

“I understand,” I muttered, already wanting to return to Torrance’s side and forget everything that was going on with the council. “Congratulations, by the way. I couldn’t help but notice.”

Skalla grunted.

“I am going to ignore the fact that you saw so much of my mate’s body just now. Otherwise, I’d have to kill you.”

“You already almost did. Twice.”

Skalla fully faced me.

“I am sorry for that, Wylfrael,” he said, and I could hear the honest regret and pain in his words. “I am endlessly thankful that I was not successful. I would have come to Sionnach, to see what became of you, but I have not been able to tear myself away from Suvi, especially now that she carries my babe in her belly.”

“I am just glad you and I are both alive. And Suvi, too. I admit, I feared I’d find something very different here today. Torrance will be glad to hear the news. All the women will be. They are all together, safe on Sionnach.”

Skalla smiled, stretching his snout.

“And that news will make Suvi happy. I would take her for a visit to Sionnach, but I find myself concerned about bringing her through a sky door while pregnant.”

“Perhaps I could bring some of the other women here to see her?” I suggested. Skalla’s grin widened.

“Yes. Bring them any time. Suvi is healthy, but even with me here, I fear that she grows lonely. Being around her own kind, especially as the birth nears, would do her good.”

“Then it is done,” I promised. “I will bring them as soon as they wish to visit.” I doubted that would be long. As soon as I told them of their friend, I was certain they’d all be clamoring to come see her, Torrance at the front of the line.

“We will look forward to it,” Skalla rumbled. “Will you stay and take a meal with us, or will you return to Sionnach now?”

“I will go now,” I said. “I want to get back to Torrance.”

Skalla was already heading towards the palace, no doubt feeling the exact same way.

“It is good to see you, Wylfrael,” he called as he stepped into the shade of the pavilion. “Until we meet again.”

I took off into the air. But when I opened a sky door, it was not to Sionnach.

I had one more world to visit before I could finally go home.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Torrance

Wylfrael was gone so long I started to panic. I tried not to show it, and threw myself into readying bedrooms for my human friends with Aiko. But soon enough, all that work was done. The sun had set hours ago, my friends were tired, and they collapsed into their new cushy beds in various rooms in the castle.

I wanted to stay with them. It had been so long since I’d seen any of them, and I knew we had so much more to talk about. But every minute that passed without Wylfrael made me feel like crawling out of my own skin. With a weakly uttered, “Goodnight,” I headed back for the room I shared with Wylf in the Eve Tower, hoping that I’d maybe find him there.

I didn’t.

I paced the room, digging my fingernails into my palms, trying not to imagine what might have happened to him. Skalla had nearly killed him twice before. Why had I let him go? What if Suvi was gone, and now Wylf was, too? What if I’d sent him into a deathtrap, and I’d never see him again?

Would I even know? Would I feel something, if he died? Or would I be forever left wondering if he was out there, somewhere, hurt, bleeding? Dead, with no one to mourn him but me?

I was on the verge of full-blown hysteria when the door to the room opened. I jumped like a frightened cat, my heart skittering and making my chest ache the way it still often did.

“Wylf!”

If my husband hadn’t been a stone sky god with a body akin to a brick wall, I would have toppled him. I leaped onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and kissed him all over his face, planting my lips messily in between shaky breaths.

“Hello, beloved,” he murmured. The next time my mouth passed near his, he captured it, sliding his tongue inside until I moaned. I tugged at his vest, his hair, desperately drawing him closer, reminding myself that he was here, strong, safe, alive.

But was Suvi?

I drew back from the kiss.

“What happened? What did you find?”

Wylfrael placed one more soft kiss on my mouth before answering.

“She is well. She is healthy and with child. Skalla’s child.”

My brows shot upward.

“Holy shit. So he’s…”

“He is sane. His mate-madness has abated. She is being well taken care of, and you or any of the other women can visit her whenever you like.”

“Can we go tomorrow?” I stammered, elation coursing through me. This was the best fucking news I could have ever gotten. She was safe. And pregnant! Oh, my God!

Wylfrael chuckled, and the sound went straight to my groin.

“I thought you might say that. As long as you’re feeling strong enough, I’ll take you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, kissing him again. “I’m so glad you’re alright. You were gone so long, and I got worried.”

“I was gone so long because I had one more place to go before I returned. I have something for you.”

I wiggled down his body, feeling a hot thrill at the swelling at his crotch as I did so. I landed on my feet, and noticed for the first time that he had something in his hand. It was a tube, about three feet long, with spindly extensions poking out behind him.

No… it can’t be…

“Is that…” I couldn’t finish the question. Tears closed my throat.

“Cursed skies, I hope it is,” Wylf said. “I certainly flew over enough houses that looked like the one you painted.”

I took the telescope from Wylfrael with shaking hands, sliding my fingers down and opening up the tripod of its stand. Muscle memory made it all so easy, and I half-laughed, half-cried when my finger brushed the sticker I’d put there on the eve of my twelfth birthday. Property of Torrance Hayes, printed on my dad’s label maker.

“How?” I stood the telescope up, and almost couldn’t even see it through the tears.

“You showed me where you lived on that map. And drew your father’s house.”

“Um, excuse me, my art sucks!” I cried, whirling on him.

“Well, I wouldn’t like to diminish any of my fair mate’s qualities, but I will say that the lack of accuracy in your paintings hindered me a little.”

“A little! You must have had to check a thousand houses! Oh, my God, you didn’t go inside them, did you?”

Now I was picturing him, like some hot, alien Santa Clause creeping into unsuspecting Canadians’ houses.

“No, no,” he said, chuckling. “I merely flew close to them. Any houses with people living in them I knew were not the right ones. I found one that I thought could be the one from your drawing, and when I got close, though the scent was very faint and muddled, it smelled a little bit of you.”

I wanted to hug my telescope, though it wasn’t very huggable. So instead, I hugged Wylfrael again.

“Thank you. I can’t tell you what this means to me,” I said, voice trembling. I sniffed hard, trying not to cry.

Wylf dipped his fingers to my jaw, tipping my face upwards. I let myself fall into his blazing blue eyes, feeling, for the first time in a long time, that things were starting to turn out alright. We didn’t know what the hell was going on with the council, but we were alive. We’d survived and were together, we’d found my friends, we knew Skalla and Suvi were alright, and we’d be able to check on Marta soon, too.

“I’m happy, Wylf,” I said, almost afraid of the feeling. “I’m so happy.”

“Good,” Wylf murmured, lowering his mouth to mine. “That is all I want in this mortal life.”

Mortal life.

Short. Maybe even fleeting.

But fleetingly perfect.

Want more of Torrance and Wylfrael? Get a free bonus story featuring them picking out their first Sionnachan Christmas tree by signing up to my newsletter here!

Curious about the sand planet mentioned several times in this book? Check out my other series, Fated Mates of the Sea Sand Warlords to learn that story!

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