CHAPTER 70

AUREN TURLEY

Two months later

I lift the cup to my lips as I watch the sun begin to dip over the horizon.

The light is dimming with its deliberate quell, the last golden sun rays beginning to drift away. I sit here with my back against my golden tree, watching the sun lower to sleep. Feel my own magic tingle in response, like a banked fire left to cool for the night.

I breathe in the blue steam from my cup before setting it beside me. Tali, the Orean villager who lives in the home just across the street, always comes out to bring me a cup of the flowery brew each time she sees me come to sit here and soak up the last minutes of the day.

Everything here on the street looks renewed. The golden tree I made when I first visited Bryol is now a sort of landmark, and the ground is cleared and even, with a patch of new grass springing up around the metallic roots. The rest of the road behind me has been smoothed, no longer left in chunks of scorched rubble. Instead, fresh oat-toned bricks have been laid, and they edge behind the tree, lifting up into a short decorative wall that semicircles around it.

This is my favorite spot. I like to sit here in the grass and look out past the flowering plants, toward the view of the rolling meadows that bend against the horizon.

"There you are," Slade says as he comes walking up.

Smiling, I look over my shoulder as he approaches, and take his offered hand to let him pull me to my feet.

"I just wanted to watch the sun set," I tell him as my ribbons flick forward, drifting over his arms in flirtatious greeting. One of them curls around to his ass.

"Absolutely shameless," I say with a shake of my head before tugging it away.

Slade grins and leans down to kiss me.

"Did you and Argo enjoy your flight?" I ask, leaning into his touch as he cups my cheek.

"We did," he says quietly before he takes my hand. "But I have something I want to show you."

My brows lift. "What is it?"

He tilts his head. "Come on."

We turn, and I get the view of the newly built townhouses along the road. They all stand at least two stories tall, with bright colored doors adorning each house.

Except for right here, in this open space, where my parents' house used to stand. I decided I didn't want to build over this spot. So we turned it into a garden instead. A notch in the street where my golden tree stands to watch over it. And if you walk through the garden, you'll see a hundred or so Vulmin charms and pins and buttons left to gleam in tribute.

For my parents. For Wick's parents. For all those who lived and died in Bryol.

I walk with Slade back to the street, just as the first of the night's veil begins to drape.

"It's incredible, isn't it?" I ask as I look around.

No longer is this place charred and left in piles of wreckage. As soon as the Vulmin heard I wanted to rebuild it, they came in swarms and in trickles. Fae from all over Annwyn arriving to help with might and magic.

In just a couple of months, we've managed to rebuild this entire street.

And the village just outside the city's walls—the Clamor of the Blaze—they were the first to show up, ready to help. Ready to raise their sounds for a fresh start and to finally mute the reign of the Carricks and all it represented.

Starting right here.

As Slade and I walk back toward our own house, we pass by fae and Oreans walking, and they wave and smile at us. This city is no longer just cluttered ruin and painful grief. It's promise and healing.

I take a deep breath as the first coos of the nightbirds swoop up toward the sky, their shimmering underbellies glinting like stars.

Up ahead, I see Osrik and Rissa walking down the street, hand in hand, and my heart squeezes at the sight of them. They've settled in well. I think, because they have each other, they don't really care about the where.

They're just happy to be together—though the constant bickering might confuse some, but not me. They're perfect for each other.

Lu doesn't have much trouble either, so long as she stays busy. Which she does, because she's taken on the role of city captain, training new recruits to be Bryol's guard.

Speaking of guard…

I smile when I spot Digby.

He's walking this way with Elore, and I can't help but notice how her hand is draped in the crook of his arm and how she's smiling over at him as he says something. A tinge of color blots his cheeks, making my brows lift in surprise.

My stoic guard is blushing . I never thought I'd see the day.

Digby and Elore. I never thought I'd see that either, but my quiet guard and Slade's mother both have a calming presence. I think they've been able to find comfort in each other.

It's nice that they're spending time together. Digby wouldn't be the sort of man who would get frustrated at Elore's muteness, since he's a man of few words himself. And clearly, based on his blush and Elore's sparkling eyes, they're communicating just fine.

I steal a look over at Slade, but he doesn't seem bothered in the slightest.

"Hi, Dig," I call, alerting them of our presence.

Digby's attention pulls to me. "Lady Auren," he greets, looking a bit shy.

I can't help but smile.

"Dig, how many times do I have to tell you that you don't have to call me Lady?"

The stubborn man shrugs, and Elore smiles and shoots me a wink.

Slade goes over to his mother and presses a kiss to her cheek. "Are you alright?" he asks.

She nods with a smile and pats him on the shoulder before shooing us away.

He snorts. "Okay, we're going."

"Have a good night you two," I say as we keep walking, leaving them to go the other way.

We walk in silence for a few moments, my ribbons trailing on the street behind me. Night descends, and the first peeks of stars begin to glitter. The faces of the goddesses high above, looking down with their twinkling eyes.

"Everyone has settled in so well," I murmur.

Slade's thumb strokes over my hand. "They have—everyone except for…"

"Ryatt."

He nods, and a troubled look comes over his face.

Ever since Ryatt had to come to terms with the fact that Brennur was dead, that there were no other fae with the ability to create fairy rings in another realm, he's been…struggling.

He tries to hide it, but I can see how uncomfortable he is, and I know Slade notices more than I do. Mostly, Ryatt has just kept to himself, inside the house he's sharing with Lu and Digby.

"He'll adjust," I say, though it's more with hope than certainty.

Slade gives me a soft smile. "Only time will tell."

"Only time will tell."

Time tells a lot of secrets, passing off the words day by day.

"So?" I venture. "What did you want to show me?"

Instead of Slade taking us further up to our house that the Vulmin built for us, he veers us off the road and toward the field. There's a path here that I made, where the black-streaked gold will take us all the way to the flowing creek.

It's another one of my favorite spots, but instead of watching the sunset, the creek is best for the stars.

After a few minutes, we reach the water. Trees and rocks nestle against it, creating a private little nook. Slade helps me down, my hand clasped in his, and I stop in my tracks just as we come to the spot we often come to sit. There are dozens of blue bulb lights strung up in the trees, and even more of them flickering upon the rocks that surround our patch of grass.

I look over at him in surprise. "What's all this?"

"Come sit with me," he murmurs, pulling me ahead.

I look up at the dim glow of the bulbs in the branches as we settle onto the grass. Slade sits first and pulls me into his lap, my back to his front. His arms wrap around me as we look out past the water to the stars that brighten in the darkening sky.

We sit for several minutes as the balm of night spreads over Annwyn, and I relax into Slade's chest as he leans against the tree trunk behind him. We listen to the twilight crickets as they string together a soothing song like they're baying to the babbling creek. The center of the water glitters with the reflection of the stars, making the sky and land seem endless.

Slade presses a kiss to the top of my head. I look up at his face, gaze skimming over his pointed ears and the patch of scales at the side of his cheeks that lead up to his temples. My ribbons curl around us lazily, drifting over the grass, twirling around Slade's back and arms. I lift a hand over the stubble at his jaw to trace my fingers along the black roots that delve through it.

"How was your one day today, Goldfinch?" he asks, and I smile, because he asks me this every day.

My answer is always the same.

"It was the best, because I'm with you."

He cups the side of my face, and I turn in his arms so I'm straddling him, my hands twisting around the back of his neck and tangling into his hair.

"Are you happy?" he asks, another question I get each night.

I look into his deep green eyes. "Unfathomably," I whisper. "Are you happy?"

"Immeasurably."

I smile. "We're having all of our one days ."

"We are." He braces one hand against my back, and my ribbons instantly tangle around his arm while his other hand plays with my hair until I have shivers that scatter down my skin. I feel his thumb stroke over the golden scale at my neck.

He shifts, reaching down, and then he hands me something. I pull back, glancing down in surprise at the book. It's small, its length fitting my hand, and I suck in a breath as soon as I look at it. It's familiar.

Red binding, golden filigree, ancient writing, and the word Fae scrolled on the spine. While it's not as worn as the other book, everything else is exactly the same.

"A replica?" I ask as I peel open the cover, eyes lighting up over the painted illustrations inside. "Where did you find this?"

"I had help," he says as he watches me flip through the pages. "Wick was able to track it down."

My heart swells as I look through it, and then I notice the strip of gold tucked at the last page. My eyes dart up, recognizing my ribbon that Slade always carries in his pocket. I flip to the page it's holding and see the two fae embracing. That same illustration I'd been so mesmerized with before, and the single fae word beneath them.

P?yur.

"It's Saira Turley, isn't it?" I say.

"Yes. And the prince." He points to their auras that glow around them. "I've heard from some of the Vulmin that they were one of the strongest pairs to have ever bonded." He pauses, finger hooking over the page. "Like us."

He flips it over, and I blink in surprise, because that wasn't the last page. There's one more. And this one is newer. The tiny brushstrokes are still visible where someone painted.

My breath catches as I stare. "Is this…"

"Us," he finishes, voice caught against my ear.

My watering eyes rove over every inch, taking in every detail.

There we are. Slade and I standing together in each other's arms. Me with ribboned wings, him with spikes and scales. Our auras are aglow around us, tendrils of gold and black that wrap around our figures like a halo of light and dark. And behind us, nearly flying right off the page, a goldfinch and a dragon.

Below it are three words. Ly?ri wyl Betul?ria.

"The golden one and the deathly flight," Slade quietly explains.

A tear tracks down my cheek, my heart filled with swirling emotions. "No tears," he tells me before gently closing the book and setting it aside. "You've had to cry too many already."

"These are mostly happy," I say as he wipes them away.

"Mostly," he murmurs, though I know he understands.

There will always be a piece of sadness for all that we've lost. For what we've endured. But the happy takes up the most space.

And that's a gift I'll never stop being grateful for.

"I love you," I tell him, watching his aura drift off his body, the black and the gold flowing together in gentle wisps.

"Oh, Goldfinch," he murmurs. "If ever there was a person for whom love was created, it was for you."

He presses a kiss against my lips, and I clasp his face with both my hands and kiss him back. Our mouths meet with devotion. Bonds pulsing in sync with our singing hearts that only play for us.

My ribbons come forward, strips plucking open the ties at his pants and loosening the ones at his collar. I peel open his shirt so my palms can smooth over the defined muscles of his chest before my mouth comes down to pepper kisses up his neck.

"My beloved paired," he purrs with a tipping smirk. "I do believe you're trying to seduce me."

I smile against his skin. "Is it working?"

"Flawlessly," he says against me as his hands come down to slip the straps of my dress off my shoulders.

The material easily gives—mostly because my ribbons help him.

He chuckles darkly as a couple of them tug at the front of his pants again, and I shrug. "They know what they want."

"So do I." Then his words rumble with command that makes me want to catch flame. "Stand up, Goldfinch."