Page 196 of Fallen Nocturne

He turns to me then. “You just got her back. Are you really going to let her throw her life away now?”

“No,” I say quietly. “But I trust her.”

Rhianelle looks at me and a small smile touches her lips. It is tired and fleeting, but the warmth in it reaches her eyes.

Landon stares at both of us like we’re insane. He closes his eyes and takes a long, shuddering breath. When he opens them again, he looks... defeated. Resigned. “Fine. Let’s go meet your death together, then.”

We continue walking.

The palace doors are massive. Or they were. Now one hangs off its hinges, and the other is missing entirely. We step through into the cold night air.

The sky is dark with smoke and ash blocking out everything. Landon walks a few paces ahead and puts two fingers to his lips. The whistle that comes out is sharp, piercing.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then the sky darkens further. Something massive blocks out even the smoke. Wings. Enormous wings.

Dorcha.

Landon’s wyvern descends from the darkness with dark emerald scales and eyes that glow like coals. She lands with a thud that shakes the ground. Her head swivels to Landon, and she makes a low, rumbling sound. It almost sounds like a purr.

“Hey, girl,” Landon says softly, reaching up with his remaining hand to touch her snout. “I know. I’m happy to see you too. But I need one more thing from you. Can you do that for me?”

Dorcha huffs. Steam curls from her nostrils.

“She can carry us all,” Landon says.

“I’m good,” I say.

Landon turns to Rhianelle. “You’ll ride with me.”

She nods and approaches the wyvern without fear. I’m impressed as she reaches out and lets the wyvern sniff her hand. Dorcha’s eyes narrow. Then she huffs again.

Landon climbs onto Dorcha’s back with difficulty. Missing an arm makes everything harder. Rhianelle follows, settling in front of him. I watch them for a moment. My wife pressed against another male. Her former mate. The bond is broken now, but they still look right together. It’s natural. A strange feeling rumbles in my chest. It’s not jealousy, not quite.

An awareness. Landon loves her.

He would have been good for her. They might have been happy if I hadn’t barged into her life.

Fuck it.

She chose me.

I reach into the darkness bound to my soul. Give me something impressive.

One of the Fallen answers from the depths of Hel, its amusement curling through me like smoke.

Gladly.

Shadow erupts from my back. Two vast wings unfurl from my shoulder blades, their membranes shifting and reforming. I spread them until they blot out the ruined palace behind me. They move as naturally as if they have always belonged on my back.

Landon’s eyebrows rise for the briefest moment before his expression smooths. “Ready?” he asks.

“Ready,” Rhianelle confirms.

Dorcha launches into the air with a powerful thrust of her legs. Her wings spread wide, catching the wind, and she soars upward into the smoke-filled sky.

I follow.