Page 94 of Fallen Nocturne

I can’t finish. The hope is too big and overwhelming. It fills my chest until I can barely breathe.

The keeper and experts said it would be better to end her. Landon never said the same, not in words. But I have seen the way he looks at Coral when she struggles. Sometimes I cannot help wondering if he believes they are right.

But this stranger didn’t accept that Coral was broken beyond repair. He tried to help her.

Arescaine looks down at the brace in his hands. “I should have it ready before the new moon. I need to adjust the fit first, make sure the straps won’t dig into her scales. We should test it over sand and plenty of hay, somewhere soft. In case…”

In case she falls.

“In case the design is flawed,” he adds quickly. “In case I made a mistake in my calculations and the metal can’t support her weight.”

“New moon,” I agree. Then, before I can stop myself, “Thank you.”

He looks at me. For one unguarded moment, something raw rises beneath his carefully controlled expression. Relief softens his face, along with a tenderness so deep that it steals the breath from my lungs.

Then it’s gone, locked away again behind those dark eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says. “Wait until we know if it works.”

But I’m barely listening because I’m looking at Coral, who has gotten to her feet and is waddling over to sniff the harness. Her tail is wagging again. I think she can feel it too. The hope and possibility.

My wyvern might fly.

Coral will touch the sky that’s been denied to her since birth. She will feel the wind beneath her, the sun above her, and know what it means to be free.

“Before the new moon,” I whisper like a prayer.

Arescaine nods and turns back to his work, already making minute adjustments to the harness. Coral settles down beside him, resting her chin on his boot, completely content.

I stand there in the warm light of the forge, watching the vampire work and feeling something shift in my chest.

I tell myself I’ll leave as soon as he starts working, I’ll go back to the palace and to my duties. But I know, even as I think it, that it’s a lie.

I’m not going anywhere.

Arescaine’s hands return to the metal, shaping and adjusting each delicate piece while Coral sleeps at his feet. I remain beside the forge, feeling its heat against my skin and watching sparks rise around him. I cannot explain why this quiet moment feels more real, more right, than anything has in weeks.

The new moon can’t come soon enough.

Chapter 13 Rhianelle

The palace remembers me.

I know this because when I step through the first corridor, the candles light themselves. One by one, a quiet chain of flame that tracks my movement like a greeting. The palace is cleaner than it was the first time I came here. Dust no longer blankets the floors or clings to the carved pillars.

The stained-glass windows glow more brightly, casting pools of jewel-colored light across the stone. Even the faces carved into the pillars seem less stern, as though the palace has decided I am no longer an intruder but a guest.

I know this place now. I recognize where the corridors branch and which way each path leads. I remember the library with its towering shelves, the hall of mirrors and the throne room with its black marble floor.

And the altar.

My cheeks burn with memory.

Every time I come here, I steal something. It has become a ritual between the masked man and me. Sometimes I take a book. Sometimes I pocket some forgotten treasure simply to make him chase me through the palace.

The question is not whether I will steal something tonight. It is what I should take.

I walk barefoot through the halls, trailing my fingers along the stone walls. The palace is vast enough that I could wander for hours and never see the same room twice.