“I appreciate your kindness, governess, but I must go. My famère is waiting for me.”

“Famère,” Saraya snorted. “Eya, you sound more and more like those Starfalliens with every passing dawn.” A beat. Then she smiled coy, her eyes glittering in knowing. “Besides. Your famàla awaits? Or your soulu?” Saraya flashed me a serpentine grin.

I flushed deeply, floating around as I gathered my vials and scrolls, hastily stuffing them into my satchel.

“Ah, well. There’s a reason you’re on the Roi’s council, isn’t there? Shrewd as a desert vipèrr.”

Saraya’s grin only stretched, her eyes glinting.

I conceded. “Yes, yes. My soulu.” I blushed, biting my bottom lip. “We’ve been celebrating over ten cycles of Bonding and… well. I’m excited to get back to him.”

“And what he plans to do to that tiny little waist of yours?”

My nostrils flared, but I couldn’t stop the widening grin on my face. Because she was right.

I froze.

There was a shift of air behind me. I could hear no sound. Still, I felt the crawl of the silence. A pungent, horrid odor spilled into the air, slowly filling the surrounding space. The hairs on my arms stood up, my wings lengthening like razor blades.

Quickly, I took an inventory of the entry level of our home. All the lights hanging from the ceiling were on. The floors, walls, and countertops were clean, just like I’d left them. Lamps, pillows, and tables hadn’t moved.

And yet.

That awful odor.

I spun, readying myself for the unsuspecting—

“My Jerala.”

Jerala.

Who the rot was, Jerala?

Then it all hit me.

A smell of vomit. Obsidian fissures on our front doors. The cling of darkness throughout the dome despite the lit sconces.

Rot.

My body went rigid. Reaching deep in every ounce of bravery I could muster, I slowly pried my eyes open. Only to find six gaping holes of black, with dark red smoke, seeping out of every socket, staring back at me.

A scream formed in the back of my throat.

It never came out.

“Well, well.” A dark chuckle. “It took you long enough to figure it out.”

“Don’t fool yourself. It’s quiet over here. But on the other side of the gates? The Star Watchers are dying. En masse.”

A beat. Then.

“If you don’t Bond to a soulu by the solstice, you will lose the kingdom.”

The omen hung in the air. Poison-laced shadowglass in my ribs would’ve felt better. My grip tightened around the oxenthium bars of the balustrade.

“And there’s no other way besides Bonding?”

“You know there isn’t.”

The hardened metal against my palms did nothing for my fraying nerves. I blinked out at the dusk, fighting the knot unfurling in my gut. Deep inside, the monster stirred. Any more pressure, and he’d make his way out. I struggled to focus on the cloudy land in the distance, watching as midnight spoiled our iridescent skies.

“I’m sure the angels would love to see their king.”

I bet they would. Especially that caucus of dark lips, tight gowns, and fluttering lashes. A snarl formed in the back of my throat. Namraphel closed his eyes, opened them again, and sighed. He floated over to perch next to me, his wings flapping gently, and placed a hand on my shoulders.

“Savarrion, at least think about it.”

I had. The answer was no.

Out of the shadows, surfacing beneath the trilùnes, were three Daìmani. Their teeth dripped blood. Their eyes reflected graves. Before I could respond, all three Daìmani lunged.

Fast as a chariot, I shot off the balcony.

“Fly you may, little king,” a Daìmani hissed from behind me. “But die you will.”

I ignored them.

Two things I learned in my bouts with the Fallen. They loved running their mouths and attention. Pushing their voices to the back of my mind, I flew with speed, scaling the length of the castle. A rumbling in my chest stirred my senses.

Let me out.

I couldn’t.

“He flies away like a youngling.”

“Because his backside’s never been beaten to shape him as an ayèn.”

“Barbarian, they may call him, but buckling he shall always be.”

I abruptly stopped flying. The height of the castle was within reach. I would’ve plunged into the fields, drawn them away from the castle, and slaughtered them without causing a scene. But.

Buckling.

My pride wouldn’t swallow such an insult. Not from a Fallen no less. I closed my eyes and let the beast out.

“Jerielle? Mi dàr. Do you hear me?”

Pain lanced my body. Anguish traversed my fôrs like its own home.

My eyelids fluttered. Dared to open.

Then I saw the Black Hells.

Daìmani dwarfed my body. Rose to swallow me whole. Gaping sockets for eyes. Claws for hands. Fangs for teeth. Golden blood dripping down tattered skin. The stench of Mahlèl rotting on its breath.

My body seized in shock.

I screamed.

Then darkness came for me.

“Oh, mi dàr.”

The voice was familiar, but far. It threw me a lifeline to grab hold of.

I let its rescue fall into the abyss.

“Please, mi dàr. Pa’h kitem’n noü. Reté.”

As eternal darkness swallowed me whole, words rang across the void.

Don’t leave us.

Stay.

“Masara, you are home.”

“No. I’m going home. I’m going to the starry rivers of Rèvaillèl. I’m going back to Starfall.”

My world crumbled like dust.

“Please, I encourage you. Go back to your home. Rebuild. And live again. As for me, this dusk, I ride back to Starfall.”

The bedchamber was quiet for a long time. I looked long and hard at Masara. Thought of every dinner we had, where we all sat around the table laughing, filled with joy. I thought of how she taught me all of Mahlèl’s favorite meals. How to pick his favorite hues for the eyente I’d pattern my garments from. Grim sadness filled her eyes as she prepared herself to let me go.

A pregnant pause filled the chamber.

Then.

“If you’re going to Starfall, then so am I.”

Masara looked at me, dumbfounded.

“Jerielle,” she breathed. “I have nothing for you.”

I squared my shoulders, flexing my wings.

“Masara, please. Beseech me not to leave you. Or to keep from flying after you. Where you go, I will go. Where you’ll rest your feathers, I will rest mine. Your angels will become my angels, and your Ehyeh will be mine. Where you fly your final flight, there will I also fly my last, and enter into the Ellelights.”

Tears streamed down Masara’s face as she held on to me.

Obsidian night swallowed me whole. A speck of light twinkled in the distance.

I lunged for it.

The Barbarian yanked me back down.

Claws lashed at my chest. Ethèr corded around my neck. Invisible shackles latched on to me. Dragged me into an abyss.

My ethereal plane was an endless night, refusing to set me free.

I choked on ash. Breathed in sulfur. Burned on brimstone. I screamed out, but no sound surfaced. Torment was my portion for demanding more ethèr than I could sustain.

I clawed against the beast within.

The Barbarian clawed back.

I reached for the light again.

The beast clubbed me in my spirit and snuffed out my light.

I took time to marvel at Starfall, seeing her again with fresh eyes. Her distant iridescent forests. The golden, ivory capped mountains. Her cloudy streetways and glass towers. It was an enchanting kingdom.

I coughed, turning my head away, pulling the hood of my cloak higher.

A life of castles and crowns wasn’t meant for me. I was a Grief Mender from a desert kingdom with no name or relevance.

Steering Orèla away, I angled her toward the opulent tower perched not far on the other side of Château Roi.

“Come on, Orèla. Off to find work, we go.”

“Wings high! I’ve come seeking work.”

My voice rang out with more authority than I felt. Whispers broke out. I wouldn’t let it deter me. I came here to work. These busybodies weren’t going to get in my way.

General Azvarren watched me, floating in perfect stillness. He blinked thrice before speaking. “You said you’re a Grief Mender?”

“Yes, General.”

“Have you ever seen the front lines of war, Ayella Jerielle?”

I shook my head, unable to speak. I was getting tired, but I refused to show it.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Go to the Mender Towers. Get what you need. When you’re done, you’re coming with me.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve caught you drooling, Savarrion.” Kyrion’s voice curled around my ears, but I ignored him.

Thoughts flashed through my mind.

Noèmi’s back. And she didn’t come alone.

Could this be her? The Transcendent from the desert I saw near my Château earlier this dawn?

I blinked. By the skies. She was exquisite.

Glued to her moving form, I followed her as she walked.

“Who is she?”

A beat. Then Azvarren spoke up, a knowing in his voice.

“You’re about to find out.”

Once, as younglings, Namraphel and I had asked our pères to fly into the atèmos. After three cycles of incessant begging, they relented. The way color married itself with natural wonders threaded through the clouds had marked me a long time.

Looking at this ayèl now, with her eyes like my skies, skin like the warmth of my hearts, and beauty rivaling the kingdom I’d willingly die to protect, I knew not even Elledelle in all its perfection could rival her.

And I’d do anything to make her mine.

I swallowed, unable to break the silence. My rotting mouth was useless, refusing to work right. She smiled, and I lost the ability to breathe. This smile wasn’t the polite smirk she gave my Star Watchers. This was a smile that rivaled the fabrications of the realms. The marvel of its stars.

This smile I would go to war for.

Savarrion floated on the other side of the hall, his wings fluttering quietly. I hadn’t even heard him fly in! So much stealth for such an elephantine ayèn.

“How long have you been there?”

A sly grin. “Long enough.”

“Savarrion.”

“Why does it matter? I’m here, and I’ve come to escort you.”

I cocked a brow. “Escort me to?”

“Yatereth, obviously. I’m meeting Namraphel and Kyrion. I know you’re headed over there, too. We may as well go together.”

My mouth dried up like sand.

Together.

This wasn’t the first time the king conveniently found a reason for us to either travel, or work, together.

Savarrion held my gaze. I was at a loss for words. Who was this king? As hard as he was gentle. As tough as he was soft. He pretended to be aloof, yet he paid attention to every detail. Memorized all the fine moments, no matter where he was.

I took advantage of the moment and watched her. Her hands had woven through Sythius’s fur, hanging on tightly. Her small feet were lost in his fur on either side of his body. There was so much about how she looked in this moment that I wanted to memorize. But nothing stood out more to me than the smile that painted her face. Tears streaked her cheeks, a wide grin plastered to her face, as she leaned forward, taking in all of Ryder Fields.

“Ayella, would you let me ride with you through the stars?”

Her nostrils flared, her eyes burned. Lavender sparks of light danced as her gaze blazed with longing. Desire. Without a word, she leaned forward, took my hand, and tugged. I flew off of my vùlp, gently landing behind her on Sythius. I wrapped my arms around Jerielle’s waist.

I breathed in Jerielle’s scent, unable to stop myself from pulling her closer. I brushed her hair with my nose, lost in her.

“Thank you for joining me this dawn, amoüra.”

“Could it be, mi Roi? A Barbarian and his Beloved?”

My hearts strained. I tugged her impossibly closer, nudging her winged ear.

“I dream it so,” I whispered.

As Sythius’s paws slammed back on cloudy ground, taking us back to our cosm, our home, her soft words reached my ears and wrenched my hearts.

“I dream it, too, mi Roi. I dream it, too.”

“Sava?”

“Amoüra,” he half purred, half snarled.

It was both startling and endearing. I inched closer to him, slipping my hand into his, not for a moment feeling unsafe with him. I took another glance around.

“What in all the cosms is this place?”

“This is my ethereal plane.”

Midnight reigned, but everything was alive.

Without thinking, I intertwined our fingers and bent down, pulling him with me.

“What are you—”

“Hush.”

I pushed my free hand into the black sand and closed my eyes.

Savarrion gasped, then roared.

I was lost in the power, lost in the adrenaline, lost in the flooding memories. Color filled every inch of the plane.

Savarrion gasped, then roared.

I was lost in the power, lost in the adrenaline, lost in the flooding memories. Color filled every inch of the plane.

breathed and found myself back in Savarrion’s arms.

With his lips still on mine.

A breath passed between us. An inconsequential gesture brimming with the promise of the realms.

“Amoüra?”

All the angels turned to see an ayèn floating within the inner folds of the crowd. He was as tall as he was big. With a handsome cut to his jaw, and long, flowing hair that complemented the scarlet hues of his starlit body. Covered in silver leathers, he was powerfully built.

“By Bayèrs Ransom, it is your firstright to claim Noèmi’s inheritance. To keep the legacy of Elhèmech alive.”

The ayèn nodded. “Yes, mi Roi.”

“Do you agree then? To claim the inheritance of Noèmi?”

“Yes, mi Roi. I will claim it.”

“In choosing to claim Noèmi’s inheritance, you also choose to claim the ayèl who comes with it. Her dahèr. You cannot claim the inheritance without also claiming Jerielle Ruèthe Zoel. You must Bond to her, immediately, and give her seed, in honor of her Passed, Noèmi’s soèr, Mahlèl.”

The ayèn shifted on his feet, clearly blindsided by this addendum. He was hoping to get his hands on the precious gems and coins. He thought nothing of the ayèl it all belonged to. Greedy bastard.

“No, mi Roi. I will not claim the inheritance. All that belongs to Noèmi and her dahèr, the foreigner Jerielle, I lay no claim to.”

Gasps broke out. Squeals of relief loosed in the air as everyone breathed out.

I wanted to roar.

A wide grin spread across my face. I rose to stand in the air, spreading all nine pairs of my wings wide.

“Then I do. I, King Savarrion Boarzael Altairre, Sovereign and Guardian of Starfall, am the next kinsyèl to Noèmi. I lay claim to Noèmi’s remaining inheritance. In doing so, with unmitigated joy, I lay claim to our beloved Grief Mender Jerielle Ruèthe Zoel. Jerielle will be mine. We will Bond, and mi amoüra will become my soulu.”

“Ayella Jerielle, you left the land of your rise and came to Starfall. You took our angels as your own, made our customs yours, and revered Ehyeh in like manner. It is our pleasure to witness as you Bond to our Beloved Barbarian.”

“Jerielle Ruèthe, will you vow to give Savarrion the feathers of your wings, and fly by his side, until you enter the Ellelights?”

“I do.”

“Savarrion Boarzael, soèr of a thousand Roi. Sovereign of Starfall. King of the Stars. Oathbearer of the Other. Do you vow to extend your wings and cover Jerielle? Do you vow to love her like our Eternal King loves us? Do you vow to thread your wings with hers and never unwind them forevermore?”

Savarrion turned the full weight of his gaze on me. His eyes were brighter than a thousand sôlsunes, as light poured from their depths. He slipped closer, leaving no space between us, and held my gaze, as though it were us alone. Then he smiled with such immaculate beauty, my breath hitched.

“I do.”

Fire exploded in my chest, and a thread of gold surfaced within my fôrs. I gasped aloud. My ethèr surfaced, surging from my chest, as Savarrion’s ethèr did the same. I watched a thread of ivory and lavender seep out of his chest, reaching for the gold of mine. Savarrion held both our hands together. I hardly registered as Kyrion said, “Your vows are spoken, established for all time. Raise your wings, thread your feathers, and be Bonded for eternity.”

I turned the full weight of my burning gaze on him.

Savarrion’s eyes had gone dark. A snarl sounded in the back of his throat.

Then the table was pushed to the side, and I was pinned down on a pile of soft pillows. I licked my lips as he brought himself down on me.

And where should I begin, amoüra?

His eyes never left mine as his fingers crawled up my thighs. Then made their way to the soft skin between.

I… You can…

Higher.

You…

His fingers reached for my pretty underthings and ripped them off. My nostrils flared. I bit my lip, sensing a frenzy rising. Savarrion’s gaze still held. He bent over me, teasing, his voice nothing but breath and heat.

What would you have me do, amoüra? Because if you don’t tell me, I will have my way with you as I desire.

With a snap of his fingers, we were clothed with nothing but our pride and passion. He took a slow descent down my body. He snarled when his eyes snagged on my breasts. Then down on my core. Prowling close, Savarrion brought my knees up before him, then spread me wide.

Then Savarrion slipped inside of me. He brought his mouth to mine, bucking again and again. First slowly, then faster. Harder. Lost in pleasure, and full of love, I let myself fall, as my Starfall King claimed me, and branded himself against my soul for all eternity.

Savarrion took my hand and spun me around, snagging my attention. He bowed low before lifting his head.

Roièssa, may I have this dance?

I laughed, high off of joy and one too many goblets of wine.

You may… mi Boarzael.

His eyes glistened, an endearing expression spreading through his face. Then his arms were around my waist, and we spun away. Our hips moved in tandem, the sultry beat pounding through our bodies. I’d never felt more whole, more at one.

I’d come here with a silly dream and now found myself the Roièssa of the stars.

I looked up at Savarrion and smiled brilliantly at him. His eyes were the only reminder I needed to know I would live a full life of love, laughter, and goodness.

I swayed to the beat with my Starfall King, my hearts full of wonder, looking forward to every moment of the rest of our lives.