Page 77 of Wings of Starlight

“Really.”

She forced her eyes open at the tenderness in his voice. Haloed in celestial light, he seemed almost otherworldly. He gazed down at her with fierce desperation, equal parts adoring and pained. It made an ache bloom within her, an emotion she could not name bubbling to the surface of the murky pond of her thoughts.

“I didn’t know at the time that it was bringing us a new queen. I’d never seen a shooting star before; they fall so quickly. But I caught the exact moment it soared across the sky. I remember feeling so…” He trailed off, his voice softening. A bittersweet smile stole across his face. “I had not felt hope in a long time, but I felt it on that night. I even made a wish.”

A wish?One was not supposed to share their wishes, she knew. It tended to render them powerless. But surely, if it had been made upon her own star, she could keep it safe for him.

As if he sensed the turn of her thoughts, he answered. “I wished that there could be a different future for me in Pixie Hollow,” he said quietly. “One where I was not bound to the Nightmares. Where maybe our worlds were not so divided.”

A beautiful wish. When she allowed herself to envision it, her heart filled with longing. He threaded his fingers into hers and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

“There will be,” she whispered. “I promise.”

If it was the last thing she did, she would make his wish come true.

The stars overhead glittered brighter. Wonder filled Milori’s expression as their light danced on the snow fluttering around them. When his gaze found hers again, she could not remember how to draw breath. How beautiful, to see the exact moment he fell in love with her. Perhaps he had always loved her, on some level, ever since that night he allowed himself to hope again. But with darkness encroaching—with her mind floating somewhere beyond her—she could not convince herself she hadn’t imagined it.

Surely, she thought, something so lovely had to be a dream.

By the time her vision came into focus again, they had landed.

Clarion was curled on her side, still nestled safely in Noctua’s feathers. It took her only a moment to realize they’d stopped at the border of Winter and Spring—and that Milori was no longer beside her. With a jolt, she struggled to lift herself onto her elbow. But with her strength sapped, she collapsed once more. She could only groan weakly as the world tilted on its axis.

From this vantage point, she could see little but snowflakes gathering in her hair and twirling lazily before her. White moonlight glittering on the surface of the river. And there, along its banks, deep trails of footprints, layered over top of one another. Milori had been pacing, she thought—wasstillpacing. He trudged into view again, wearing an expression that verged on despondent.

What happened?

Clarion’s head ached with the effort of remembering. Here, with the cold making its home within her, the answer eluded her. Everything seemed so far away, as though she were observing herself from a great height.

“What are you doing?” Clarion managed to ask. Her own voice sounded garbled.

Milori startled, clearly shocked to find her awake. After a moment, his features settled into grim composure. “Nothing. Where are your healers?”

She furrowed her brow, struggling to concentrate. “Feverfew Fields.”

“Where is that?” Desperation clawed into his voice.

The answer clearly mattered to him. She could hang on to consciousness, just for a little longer. “The edge of Summer and Autumn.”

Milori drew in a steadying breath. “All right, then.”

At the resolve in his voice, it occurred to her—far too late—why he had asked. Memories flooded back. The swarm of Nightmares. A detonation of light. Milori, determined to return her to the warm seasons. A bolt of urgency cut through her delirium:He can’t.

If he crossed the border, he would break his wings.

There had to be some other way. If she could find the strength to walk, or even stay astride Noctua…But no, she could hardly twitch a finger. Even her trembling had stopped, as though her body had given up hope of ever getting warm again. Her only chance was her magic. Although she had never managed to teleport, Elvina had taught her the theory behind it. If she could manage it just once in her lifetime, it had to be now. She reached deep within herself and felt as though she scraped her nails against the bottom of a dry well. A soft gasp of pain escaped her. There was nothing left.

And so, there was no other option.

“Leave me,” she rasped.

As he drank her in, his panic slowly melted into agony. Both of them knew that in this state, she was far more likely to fall than to make it to the healers intact. “Your glow is almost entirely extinguished.”

She supposed it was, now that he mentioned it. Distantly, she noted her sallow skin; the night, without a glow to push it back, settling over her like a pall. Clarion felt no pain, but the look in his eyes gutted her: utterly helpless. It was as though he were dying along with her.

There was some argument she’d intended to make, but it was slipping away from her. It was too hard to force the words out. Too hard to cling to consciousness. As her eyes fell shut, he let out a strangled sound. With a flutter of his wings, he floated onto Noctua’s back and gathered her into his arms.

“Milori…stop.”