Page 112 of Cursed By the Dawn

Light lingered in the air, warm and incandescent, filling our arms like pillows of honey. The sensation felt like a warm spring day. Divine. Golden. New. Our wings moved in tandem, feathers swirling the light, keeping us aloft in the space Mithras had left behind. I touched the unexpected tears wetting my cheeks. We’d overcome—we’dwon, despite it all—but death still lingered.

“I hated Mithras for so long,” Erebus finally said. His voice cracked on every word. “I spent centuries making him into a monster in my head, and only the last few breaths trying to unmake the monster. But now, as I did when we were just boys, I want him alive.” He made a low, anguished sound, and I quickly cradled his hands in mine. He looked down to where Mithras’s light still glowed in his palms. “You said once that knowing the dark doesn’t make you a monster.” He took a deep breath, and the light around us stirred. “It’s what you do in the dark. And whether you rise out of it. That’s what matters.”

“I did,” I said softly. “You remembered.”

He nodded. “And I believe every word. I think I always wanted to.”

“Good,” I said through my tears. “Because I do, too. I believe it now more than ever.”

His silver eyes met mine, steady now, as he threaded our fingers together. We willed our gauntlets away, seeking comfort in the alignment of our skin. Our victory had come after centuries of despair, but there was so much beauty to look forward to. So much hope.

We shared a small, knowing smile.

Mithras’s lingering light grew brighter, suffusing the violet sky. There was neither sun nor moon; just a glorious, joyful glow of purple, orange, pink, and gold. Erebus and I held each other as we turned to face the dreamers and the Weavers, ready to guide them through the darkness. To lead them beyond the shadows of our past, beyond the weight of what we’d lost.

Toward a future forged by our hands, carved from the very heart of our dreams.

A future that would belong to all.

Like the rising dawn—unyielding, unshakable.

And born from the deepest night.

EPILOGUE

One Year Later

The stars are exquisite tonight.”

Erebus and I stood on the balcony outside our chambers, savoring a peaceful evening after a day that had felt like a whirlwind. It had been one year since Raelion’s defeat, and our waking hours tended to be busy, blurry, and overflowing with Weaver duties. But our nights were different. They were slower. Quieter. Erebus ensured they were made forus.

They’d always be for us.

We were both dressed for sleep, garbed in matching billowing robes and not much else, and I was enjoying the way his thumbs were tracing patterns on my arms. He was standing behind me, anchoring me against his chest, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I could sense something was troubling him. His thumbs started tracing faster. Faster.Faster.Definitely anxious.

Strange.

There wasn’t much to be anxious about these days. The once-bitter sea of poisoned dreams was now a vast iridescent blue, shimmeringbrightly in the distance. The Dream Realm had flourished since Raelion’s defeat, blooming into life beyond our wildest hopes. Gone were the demons of fear and chaos; now the land pulsed with vibrant, living magic, each domain embodying its own distinct beauty, a reflection of the Weavers who governed them. Citadel Evernight, returned to its former glory, would soon be taking its first class of dream scholars since its demise, and Citadel Firstlight, the peaceful jewel of Istralla, was now governed equally by Erebus, myself, and the rest of the immortal Weavers. We had become the architects of a new world, not in a state of war, but at peace, generating new possibilities, new dreams, with every passing day.

“More exquisite than usual?” I asked, looking up to the stars. They were always bright these days. Always glowing like jewels scattered across a velvet sky. I felt his arms leave me. “I think—oh.”

While I was distracted, Erebus had dropped to a knee.

“Esmer.” He said my name as if it were precious treasure, holding me tight with his gaze. Shadows were positivelydancingin his silver irises. “This world is ours now. And it will continue to grow, to flourish, because of us. But there is one thing I still desire that will complete this eternity we have built together. And I hope you desire it, too.”

My breath hitched, anticipation stirring in my throat.

One thing I still desire?

“I know I can be irritable. And vengeful. And generally unlikable at times.” He raked a hand through his hair, making a low, frustrated sound as a flush spread across his face. “You see me, all of me. And you love me still. So, if you’ll have me, I vow to be with you in darkness, in light, in dreams both beautiful and broken.” His lips grazed my left hand, lingering over where a ring might sit. When he looked up again, his eyes were shining. “Will you marry me, Esmer Havenfall? Be my partner, now and forever—through this dream and the next?”

The question hung in the air between us, fierce in its tenderness. I knew my answer immediately; it was leaping from my throat before I could even blink.

“I would love to marry you,” I said, unable to keep from smiling. He exhaled heavily, his mouth forming into a lopsided grin. He looked so happy—so relieved. “To the end and ever after,yes.”

His smile grew even wider as he slipped a ring onto my finger. The delicate band was made from whorls of living shadow, and the large oval stone was starlight crystalized.

“I love you,” I said, guiding him to stand. “My fiancé,” I added coyly, looking pointedly at my sparkling ring. I’d never seen any adornment more beautiful, and I had no idea how he’d hidden it from me. Perhaps he’d conjured it just now, for this exact moment. “It’s perfect… and looks just like us.”