Page 126 of Ruin of Revenants

But I refused to do that in the infirmary—I had enough self-control to wait until we reached the hallway. Then I grasped her by the waist and pressed her against the wall. I threaded my fingers through her hair as I breathed her in, swallowing her gasp, relishing the rush of emotions that flooded our bond until I couldn’t tell where my love and desire ended and hers began.

And here I thought you wanted to discuss something, she finally managed to say into my mind when we parted at long last, our chests heaving.

Sharing quarters with your brother and best friend has made it really difficult to do this. It’s driving me mad. I hesitated, catching my breath, cradling her closely. “But I do have something to talk to you about.”

She swallowed, searching my eyes as she sensed the way my emotions shifted. The nerves tangling in my stomach were familiar, but this time, I wouldn’t lose myself in the panic. Not when I was in the arms of the female I loved, the one whose heart was my home, my healing, my haven.

“Isoria,” I said softly, tucking a strand of black and violet hair behind her ear, “I want our engagement to be real. I want you…” My voice broke, and I forced a crooked smile through my flood of emotion. “I want you. As my bride. As my queen. I want you to stand by my side through whatever the future holds, whatever new fate we make for ourselves.” Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out the carved wooden case it held and popped it open, revealing a new ring. “And if you’ll have me, I want to give you a true ring that you can show off to let the world know who you are. Royalty.”

Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Of course I’ll have you.” She studied the ring, admired the sapphire, amethyst, and turquoise I had set within it for her, a reminder of her phoenix colors and my acceptance of who she was—all of who she was. “But will your people have me? How could they ever accept a phoenix as their queen?” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Do you know how many times I’ve been called a demon? The healers tolerate me because I’ve saved patients’ lives. The patients tolerate me because I soothe their pain. But anyone outside of here could be another Dell.”

His name alone sent a bolt of anger shuddering through me, but because I only felt sorrow and horror from her, I took Isoria in my arms. She relaxed against me with a sigh. “It won’t be easy,” I admitted. “But any enemy of yours would also be an enemy of mine. I’ll always stand with you.” My chest tightened, a sense of dread warning me an endless abyss might be waiting for me on the other side of my next words. But I spoke them anyway. “If you want to go home, I understand. No one else will know Everhaven’s location, I swear it.”

She laughed. “Archer, you know I can’t go.”

“I’d find a god to break our bond again—without the price I paid last time.”

But Isoria shook her head. “It wouldn’t be home without you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my jaw.

The relief was instant, and I almost wept with it.

She gently pulled back, reaching for the ring I’d offered. “I might want to bake and cuddle Onyx and read my days away in your library,” she said with a grin, “but that doesn’t mean I want easy. I want you too.”

“Thank Umbryon,” I breathed, gently taking her hand so I could be the one to slide the ring on her finger. “It’s you and me, Feathers.”

Chapter Sixty-Two

Isoria

To recognize Umbryon and the height of Emberglade’s magical power, Archer was crowned under the starlight a few weeks later.

Rainsong was finally back to something resembling normal, mostly thanks to Archer’s newfound magic tied to the land. He’d had to take days of rest between each effort, but over time, he’d sealed the cracks in the earth with strength that the most adept earth-gifted fae could not match. Shops and homes were being rebuilt, and the streets were clear of the corpses. To both honor the revenants who’d been so disgraced in their deaths and to reassure Emberglade that we would never again face an undead army, Archer had requested that Bren, Brook, Scarlet, a few other phoenixes who’d come forward in recent days, and I all burn them in phoenix fire. That had been an event of its own, a demonstration where some had shown obvious fear and disgust, restraining themselves only out of reverence toward their new king, and others had outright refused to attend.

But tonight, everyone was full of nothing but celebration and joy. Archer had kept the guest list for his coronation short, so we were surrounded by friends, family, and the guards and advisors he trusted. I sat with Bren and my friends in the front row of seats we’d had servants set up in the castle’s largest courtyard.

“Can’t wait for your turn,” Lily murmured as she squeezed my hand. She looked resplendent in a soft green gown that set off her fiery hair. As he’d been almost constantly since she’d woken, Owen was at her side, clothed in his captain of the guard uniform in Emberglade red and black, every button on his jacket perfectly polished and gleaming. Though Lily had admitted to me before that something seemed different between her and Owen recently, she said they hadn’t confessed any feelings. “To be honest,” she’d added, “I’m relieved he hasn’t tried to say anything now, as my engagement to the future king of Brighthollow still stands.”

I’d vowed to myself that once we were officially king and queen, I would prioritize working with Archer to find a way to undo the old arrangement without destroying our relationship with the neighboring kingdom.

Near Owen were Cliff and Clay, along with every single one of Cliff’s jaguars. The four sat in perfect stillness, almost statuesque, their eyes trained ahead and their paws planted firmly on the cobblestones. A few guests had cast them wary glances, but I’d made sure to give each an affectionate pat on the way to my seat. “They’re on their best behavior so no one gets too uncomfortable,” Cliff had explained to me, offering me one of his boyish smiles. He sat there like a proud father, happy that his beloved cats had been included in tonight’s event.

Now, on my other side, Brook studied me thoughtfully. Orchid had personally designed a stunning dress for my best friend in shades of purple and silver that reminded me of a night sky. Though we phoenixes preferred the daylight, she’d told me she wanted to honor Archer with something that reflected the night. “I never thought I’d say this, but Archer really does deserve you. And I didn’t think such a male existed.” She chuckled as she elbowed me.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, but my words trailed off when she and my brother, who was on her other side, both pointedly looked to the dais.

Archer stood at the front of the dais with a priestess from Umbryon’s Temple itself. Though the priestess was adorned in dazzling finery, from a dress sheathed in gossamer that mimicked the night sky with the way it glistened to the shining strands of silver in her hair, I only had eyes for my prince—my king. He was clothed in Emberglade colors, the red and gold and black making his green eyes appear brighter. The starlight bathed him in silver that highlighted his chiseled features and the dimples that framed his grin. He was looking straight at me, drinking me in as if I was his anchor in a stormy ocean, his refuge in an uncertain world. I could feel his love through our bond, so powerful it took my breath away.

I couldn’t do this without you, he said in my mind.

You absolutely could. But I’m glad you feel less alone with me here.

The ceremony proceeded. Archer’s sister had agreed to participate, showing the kingdom that she supported her brother’s rule and would stand beside him and advise him through it all. True to her word, she didn’t try to undermine my station or threaten me. Instead, she’d been surprisingly almost kind, offering to help me plan the wedding according to what I wanted. She was still frequently self-absorbed, but there was something different about it. Almost like she donned that role like it was a mask in the same way Archer wore his charm like armor. Like they had both discovered their own ways to protect themselves from their father’s harshness, from their grief, and from the pressures and scrutiny of ruling a stolen throne.

I wasn’t anticipating that Briar and I would ever be as close as Lily or Brook and me, but I’d also kept myself open to her efforts, recognizing that maybe she was more multifaceted than I’d first assumed. Maybe she’d keep surprising me.

So she stood beside the priestess as the female prayed to Umbryon and bound Archer to vows to the gods and to Emberglade. And when the priestess handed Briar the crown, she blinked a little faster, like she was holding back tears as Archer knelt before her and she placed the crown upon his head.

“Long live King Archer Emberglade,” the priestess proclaimed.