Sixty-Nine Dianna

My palm slapped into Samkiel’s, and he hauled me from the hole in the ground. We both took a deep breath, fresh air filling our lungs. Samkiel bent and pulled at the clawed, severed leg still clinging to my armor, its grip still tight after death. He managed to work it free and dropped it to the ground, where it continued to twitch. I kicked it with my armored boot, and it fell back into the hole.

The silver armor wrapped around my body was identical to his but more feminine and exactly suited to my shape. I looked at him through the narrow slit across my eyes. His armor looked so intimidating, but now I knew it was easy to breathe and move in. It was like leather and spandex wrapped into one with a hardened shell on the outside, but so much lighter than I expected.

“You think that’s all of them?” I asked, stepping over some rubble and further from the hole, just in case.

He shrugged one powerful shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. The queen is dead, and the others will follow. They are made from the same chemical that floods through her. A new queen hadn’t hatched, so the line has ended.”

“You’re so smart.” I smiled at him, even though he couldn’t see it.

He snorted. “Not by my own doing. Remember, I got in trouble frequently for my actions. My punishment was hours locked away studying, memorizing texts and languages, and . . . Well, you get it.”

I nodded as he summoned his blade back into his ring. I dropped my gaze to my sword and rotated my wrist, spinning it in a figure eight between us.

“How come it doesn’t burn me now?”

“As long as you wear this,” he tapped my armored shoulder, “it won’t. I made sure of it. Ablaze weapons kill almost everything. It’s safer and keeps me from worrying about you.”

“You know I breathe fire and become a giant, scaly beast, right?”

His brow flicked upwards behind his helmet. “Appease me, please.”

“Fine.” I chuckled and flicked mine like he did. Only my sword stayed. “How do I do the cool, flippy thing like you do to make it disappear?”

I couldn’t see his smile through his helmet, but I saw the corners of his eyes crinkle. He grabbed my wrist and twisted it, flicking my ring against my knuckle. The blade disappeared in an instant.

“Just like that.”

I glanced at him, forgetting he couldn’t see my returning smile. “Thanks.”

“Not an issue,” he said, staring at me.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. It is just nice to have an equal in every way. You are perfect.”

He looked at me, and a warmth rubbed across my subconscious, inviting and welcoming as an ocean breeze against the shore. It was lovely and peaceful, but as soon as it touched me, it was gone.

He couldn’t see my smile, but it was there regardless. “Remember you said that when I say something annoying later.”

“Absolutely.” He nodded, not even trying to deny it.

“Or piss you off,” I added.

“I’ll keep a list,” he said, humor lacing his words.

My hands fell to my hips. “So we have a major fight, argue, and three days later, you drag me out to an abandoned, broken city to propose to me and kill some infesting bug species?”

He nodded at the large cathedral-style building up ahead and started toward it. “Not just that. We are here to retrieve the last officiant in the realms that can perform the Ritual of Dhihsin.”

“What?” I called, nearly tripping over my feet as I followed after him.

“Did I misspeak?” he asked, glancing back at me over his armored shoulder.

“No, it just sounds like you want to perform a ritual we can’t actually do since I have no soul. We aren’t super, special mates anymore, remember?”

“We are to me,” he said, not missing a beat. “We can still perform it. The mark will not appear, but in all ways, you will be what you call in your world my wife.”

This time, I did trip. I grabbed on to one of the half-destroyed buildings as we rounded a corner. “Wait, stop.”

He did, turning to look at me.

“Are we getting married now? Here?” I asked, gesturing toward the demolished town filled with rubble and smelling like death.

“No, not here.” He glanced to where I pointed, then back to me. “I have another place I found while I was away. I want to perform the ritual there.”

“Sami.” My heart lodged in my throat as another realization struck me. “You planned all this while you were gone?”

He looked at me as if I had grown horns. “Yes. If we cannot share the mark, I want the next best option. I want everyone who encounters us to know who we belong to. I want something that can protect you when I cannot. I thought I’d made my intentions very clear?”

“No. You did, and it’s very romantic.” My throat dried up at the thought and care he had put into all of this when I thought he wanted nothing more to do with me. “But . . .”

“But?”

I shrugged. “It’s just in my world, couples plan weddings together. Family and friends are there, and it’s a big celebration.”

“It is for us as well, but our family is not with us right now. Also, given what we have learned about my resurrection and what you no longer have, I refuse to search for them or put either of us in harm’s way until this is done.”

I said nothing, but he caught the change in my posture.

“I swear to you, you will have the most extravagant ceremony when we all can be together once more. I’ll move every star for that day.” He closed the distance between us and grabbed my hands. “But right now, we don’t know when or if we will have time for this again. Every time we get a brief bit of happiness, it is ripped from us. I refuse to wait anymore. I want you, all of you. I love you, all of you, and if I have to carve out time for this, for us, by the old gods and the new, I will do it.”

The tension in my shoulders eased, and I took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Samkiel ran a hand down the back of my armored neck before stepping back and tugging on my hand. The walk through the destroyed city was quiet aside from the sounds of our armored boots on cracked stone, and then another thought raced through my head.

“You know,” I cast a glance at him as we walked hand in hand, “I don’t have a dress.”

He kept walking, my hand grasped firmly in his, and I struggled to keep up with his long strides. It was as if, now that he had my agreement, he was unwilling to wait any longer. We passed more abandoned houses, following the road toward a small hill.

“Yes, you do. I bought you one.”

“You did?” I couldn’t help my smile or the warmth that blossomed in my chest.

“Yes, in my tradition, it is part of the ceremony. The partner who proposes has three tasks they have to complete. One, they have to find a precious gem for their intended, and it has to be rare. That is a sign of how they view their intended. Your stone can only be found at the center of one very active and nasty lava pit. Two, they are to take care of the event itself. In doing so, they prove they are capable of taking care of their partner. Three, they handle the attire. If their partner doesn’t like what they have chosen, it is said that they do not truly love or know their intended, and the ceremony is voided.”

I shook my head in pure bewilderment. “That’s actually really romantic.”

“It is.” He squeezed my hand a fraction tighter.

Stupid tears threatened to blur my vision. I had never been loved like this. I squeezed Samkiel’s hand in return, unsure if he even felt it with our gauntlets. “So if I hate my dress, we call this whole thing off?”

Samkiel laughed. “Yes, but I am not worried in the least.”

“Cocky.” I bumped into him.

I was so foolish. The entire time he was gone, I had assumed the worst. The part of me still damaged thought he’d be like Kaden. Even though I knew Samkiel would never treat me as Kaden had, I still expected the absolute worst. I’d thought he had given up on us when I’d been the one threatening to pull back. I truly didn’t deserve this man, but I no longer cared. He was mine, and I was keeping him.

I didn’t have pretty words to offer him, and I sucked at revealing my emotions, so I did what I always did and said, “I am going to fuck you senseless.”

His whole body went rigid, and he practically stumbled to a halt. Silver lined his eyes, and I didn’t need to see his full expression to know how my words had affected him. This time, it was his turn to stumble over his words.

“Well . . . I mean . . . we technically could now. If you want? This entire place is abandoned.”

I smirked beneath my helmet, dropping his hand as I walked past him, tapping his shoulder. “Ravage me after the ceremony.”

WE SEARCHED THE UPPER LEVELS OF THE OLD, brOKEN STRUCTURE before making our way downstairs.

“Are you sure they are still alive?”

Samkiel nodded and walked in front of me, ducking low to avoid the support beam above. “My sources say yes. The plus side is that she is similar to an air fae. The energy carried by the wind nourishes them so she would not starve. They are quite able to defend themselves and adept at hiding, but overall, they are usually docile. She would not feel the need to flee in fear of the creatures we so politely destroyed.”

He held out his hand, and I took it. We walked down the roughhewn stone steps, following them as they circled deeper.

Samkiel let go of my hand as he reached the landing. He twisted the knob of a wooden door, but it did not budge. His body stilled, and he tipped his head, listening.

“It is barricaded from the inside, and I can hear a heartbeat.”

“Lovely,” I said.

Samkiel leaned back and rammed the door with his shoulder. The door gave, and whatever was bracing it on the other side scratched against the stone with an ungodly sound. I flinched and covered my ears.

“Sorry,” he whispered and summoned a ball of light into his hand before stepping toward the ruined door. Nothing stirred but a tiny, little creature hissing away from the light. We walked further inside, the room a complete disaster. Some crates were lodged to one side, half overturned and empty, while the others were in shards. Samkiel stopped in the center of the room, raising his hand as he looked around. He paused as his light found a hall in the far left corner, half-hidden by a support beam.

“Wait here,” he said. “Just in case.”

“In case what?” I asked.

Samkiel didn’t answer, but as he stepped closer to the hall, I heard running footsteps coming from my right. A battle cry tore through the air just before I was tackled from the side. I hit the ground with a clang, but the armor absorbed most of the impact. My hands rose instinctively, stopping the descent of the rusty spoon aimed at my face.

A woman with pale skin and swirling white markings on her face snarled at me, exposing conical-shaped teeth. One minute, she was staring daggers at me, and the next, Samkiel had her up on her feet. He yanked the spoon from her hand and tossed it aside.

“Everrine. Be calm.” Samkiel’s voice was infused with power.

Her sapphire eyes dulled, and her lower lip trembled. She tossed her arms around his neck and sobbed, the flowing white gown she wore dirty and ragged. She clung to him, speaking quickly. I was so glad Samkiel had taught me the common language, or I’d be lost.

“Samkiel,” she wept, stepping back so she could look up at him. Her hands clasped the sides of his helmet, and she pulled him down, placing a kiss on each cheek.

I gripped her arm and pried her from him, ignoring her hiss as I pushed her back.

“Mine,” I snapped, making sure my eyes flared a vivid red.

She took one look at me and bolted up the stairs, screaming with every step she took.

“Docile, huh?” I asked, folding my arms.

“They usually are.” Samkiel rested his hand on my shoulder. “Sorry about that. I—”

“Just go get her before I burn her alive, and we have to do the ceremony ourselves.”

“Yes, akrai.”