62. Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter Sixty-Two

T he Seraphim must have come through Ranon’s gate. Arioch ran to his mate, both of them falling to their knees in each other’s arms.

Zylah had to turn away from the sight, Holt’s arms wrapping around her. Centuries Arioch and Sira had waited for each other. Centuries of knowing the other was still alive, somehow, but not being able to reach them. How they hadn’t gone mad from it, Zylah didn’t know.

Worse not to know, Holt said quietly in her thoughts, pressing a kiss into her hair as his embrace tightened. Because she hadn’t known if he was alive when she’d been trapped in the maze, somewhere amongst the passageways beneath their feet, his regret at all of it echoing his words.

Zylah tilted her head up to meet his gaze, bright and glassy with emotion. Nothing would make me give up on you.

“I know,” he breathed over her lips, his fingers threading in her hair as his mouth came over hers, her lips parting at the first stroke of his tongue.

They’d come so close to the end. To leaving this life, nothing but their names and their legacy to follow them.

I want to take you far away from here, Holt said gently, but it was enough to bring her back to the moment. To the hurried movement around them, a stark reminder that they should be helping. All the creatures have been dealt with. Nye and Arlan are handling orders.

The others? Daizin? Rin and Kej? With her threads and her sight exhausted, the shadows in her eyes, she braced herself for his answer.

All fine. He stole another kiss, his relief and exhaustion and elation and pain and—amongst all of it, a craving. For the euphoria he’d felt using his magic over and over again. He tried to hide the feeling, to pull it back the moment she felt it, but Zylah showed him nothing but her love, her admiration for what he’d done. The strength he’d shown. And as another tremor rippled through her body from the after-effects of Pallia’s magic, he understood. Neither of them had walked away unscathed. But they were alive. Whole.

“Save one for me,” someone said beside them, clearing their throat. Kej grinned at them both, a ball of feathers in his hands. “Alright, for Kopi,” the Fae said, rolling his eyes.

Zylah sucked in a breath, scooping Kopi from Kej’s hands, the little owl trilling quietly as she stroked his head and gently looped a finger under each of his wings to check him for injuries. He made a quiet warbled sound, something that could have just as likely been an “ I’m alright” as a “ don’t fuss ” and Zylah half laughed, half sobbed as she slid him onto her shoulder. He hooed quietly in satisfaction as Holt scratched his head, the corner of her mate’s mouth twitching.

“You scared the shit out of us there for a second,” Kej said, a hand on Holt’s shoulder. “We thought…”

“So did we,” Holt told their friend.

The Fae threw his arms around them both, Kopi digging his little claws into Zylah’s shoulder as the movement jostled him about. “I’m sorry about your brother, Zylah,” Kej added softly.

Zylah could only dip her chin at that as Nye joined them, the general freezing as Zylah hugged her tightly. “Thank you,” she said thickly, sending every bit of gratitude into her embrace at the memory of Nye stood before them, facing up to Pallia alone.

“I had a little help,” Nye murmured into her hair.

“You didn’t know they would come. And you did it anyway.” Zylah pulled back, resting her hands on Nye’s shoulders. “We won’t ever forget that.” She studied her friend’s face, the crusted blood from the wound someone had healed shut for her, wondering how close the Fae had been to losing her life at Pallia’s hands. How much she knew. “Zack…”

Nye squared her jaw. “Was it quick?”

“He tried to protect me… I should have…”

Nye’s hands rested over her face, thumbs wiping away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “Nothing. You should have nothing.”

Zylah let the words wash over her. Let herself acknowledge that her brother wouldn’t have acted any differently, would never have let her take that hit. Regardless of whether she was Fae, she’d have likely bled out just as quickly as he did.

“I am so glad you’re still here with us, Zylah. And so grateful to Zack for that,” Nye added.

Holt’s agreement down their bond mirrored the sentiment, but Zylah could only press her lips together and draw in a deep breath. Zack was gone, and she would never see him again.

One of the Iyofari swooped down, a rider in full battle leathers dismounting from their saddle with grace as the great bird arced upwards.

“Cirelle.” Nye greeted the High Lady as formally as she would any other soldier, but Cirelle only took one look at her niece and pulled her in for a hug.

“Don’t ever do that again,” the Fae told her gently. “You know I think of you as my own. And if you don’t, it is my failing for not telling you many times.”

“I’m fine, Mother,” Kej said dryly beside them, Cirelle shooting him a withering look over Nye’s shoulder.

And he had only shifted once, as far as Zylah knew, scratching Kopi on the head as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

Daizin’s influence? Holt asked.

Looks that way.

A hint of exasperation, quickly followed by respect for Daizin. I’ve been trying to convince Kej for decades that he leaves himself too exposed.

Zylah arched a brow as she looked up at him. Not the way Kej wanted to be convinced, apparently.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and Zylah resisted the urge to tease him further. Rin and Arlan had joined them, Cirelle tugging her daughter into a hug with Kej, the twins leaning into their mother’s embrace. Daizin hobbled up to Holt’s side, shadows bracing his leg, black blood crusted across his neck.

All of them looked as exhausted as Zylah felt, though a little of the adrenaline had subsided, a quiet calm settling in its place. And then she remembered Cirelle’s gift, her command of emotions, and wondered how the Fae hadn’t crumpled under the weight of it all.

“A few riders will remain with the soldiers here. To burn what remains,” Cirelle explained.

Zylah watched as two riders dismounted, their birds taking to the skies immediately. “Your timing was impeccable.”

The High Lady hummed. “Some left their young far too soon. But once news of Ranon’s plans crossed the oceans, the Iyofari were eager to leave. To help.” She glanced at the lifeless priestesses, the soldiers gathering up dead comrades. “They have felt the weight of our losses, our desire to live freely.”

And it would take time for that dream to become a reality. For Fae to live among humans as they once had. But they were moving in the right direction, and that was something. Quiet fell over them all as that thought seemed to sink in, Arlan tucking Rin into his side, Kej fussing over Daizin, shadows swatting his hands away.

A soldier stepped up to Arlan, mumbling an update in his ear, and he turned to address the group. “Sira offered to close the gate behind us when we return to Virian. We’ll be ready to depart soon.”

There was so much to do, so many things that needed addressing, but Zylah suspected Cirelle was still trying to give them all this moment of calm, this quiet instant in each other’s company as soldiers and Iyofari riders moved around them. So many had given their lives for this. And just as Holt had promised, they would make sure those who had fallen would not be forgotten.

There was talk of home. Of wine. Sleep. But all of that would have to wait. It was time to put their dead to rest.