Page 377 of King's Kiss
“Her.”Alora laughed, cupping Rune’s cheek when he was struck silent again. “Don’t worry. She is perfectly safe. Daughter of both a god and a Primordial, I have a sense she will be something to behold.”
Now he truly may faint.
She sat beside him, luminous in the field of glowing spider lilies. “I most certainly will need my mate to help me raise her.”
Then everything in Rune settled with a low breath. As if at last the scales had truly balanced.
He had often wondered why Elyon made the choices he did, never once understanding him.
What did his father feel as he watched from whatever height the gods deemed from on high. Did he feel affection or regret when it came to his sons?
In the end, Rune no longer needed to know. He had lived past the purpose he was made for, and that, perhaps, was enough.
“I understand now why Deimos presented us with that hideous doll,” Rune mused as he played with a lock of Alora’shair. “But now I am curious what Calla and Hadeon gave us that required a veil.”
Alora laughed softly. “A cradle.”
Of course.
Rune drew her close, his wings wrapping protectively around the next part of their future. “You know, songbird,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her head, “I ought to be offended that everyone knew before I did that you carried my progeny. Yet I find myself far too pleased to care.”
Alora’s eyes glittered with her smile, and he could already imagine how their lives would change.
As if sensing what was coming, the Netherworld Gate thrummed in quiet slumber far below the Shadow Keep. And he silently promised his daughter would never live a single day doubting she was loved.
Because her story would begin here.
Where all the best stories begin.
Scarlet petals swelled in the wind, lifting them into the moonlight. Alora looked up at the sky, sensing the movement of the sun in the Mortal Realm.
“It’s all right,” Rune murmured, playing with a golden coil of her hair. “They are yours to rule by day, but at night you are mine to ruin.”
He drew her lips his, soft and sweet.
A kiss that asked for nothing and promised everything.
The world would tell tales of a cursed princess and a dragon. But within the Netherworld, where shadows breathed and spider lilies bloomed, only one truth existed:
Every fairy tale ended in light—except this one.
Standing, Rune offered his hand and she took it. The shadows lifted them into the sky, above the moon, above the lava rivers, above the world where they danced through the everlasting night, cloaked in light and dark.
No music but the beat of their hearts.
No witness but the stars.
They danced like they had done it for centuries.
Like they would do it for centuries more.
“Forever,” Alora whispered, finishing his thought.
Rune spun her among the stars, the pleats of her dress curling like the blooms below.
“Eternity with the God of Shadows,” Rune mused, bringing her mouth to his. “Would you resign yourself to such a terrible fate?”
Alora smiled against his lips. “That, my darling, is what I have always desired. To dance with you forever, in once upon a dream.”
The End
