The Queen of the Dawn (Shadows and Crowns #5)

by S.M. Gaither

No matter what dark waters await us, I will keep fighting my way back to the surface.

She just wanted him to know—wanted all the ones she’d left behind to know—that she was still fighting.

He gave no thought to escaping. He would die where he stood before he turned away from this monster who had taken so much from him.

End this battle so I can focus on finding her.

And he could only think one thought, over and over. Come back to me.

This empire needed more than just her light. It needed her. And so did he.

have already killed one divine spirit tonight,” he snapped, catching the spirit once more by the throat and lifting her gaze to his, “and I will not hesitate to kill a second if you do not tell me where my queen is.”

Whether she had any hope of winning wouldn’t matter to her, so it didn’t matter to him; he knew he might not resurface, and he didn’t care. Going on without her would be worse.

He understood what she asked for, and he was determined to answer. He would not fail her. He would not fail Casia.

He felt wide awake suddenly, and struck by the same sense of awe he’d had so many times before whenever he looked at her—that

Casia’s eyes remained closed, but her chin lifted. Her furrowed brow relaxed. He thought he saw her lips curving, a small smile of recognition—there you are.

They didn’t speak at first. There were no words in any tongue that he recalled from any lifetime that could have captured what he was feeling as he watched the life coming back to her eyes, as he felt her hand moving upon his chest, her fingers shaking but determined to wrap themselves into his damp shirt and hold on to him.

A soft note, something between a sigh and a weak, overwhelmed laugh, escaped her. “You found me.” He held her more tightly, cradling her head to his chest. “Nowhere you could go,” he reminded her.

She heard whispers about the queen and the goddess; ramblings of confusion and awe as they tried to make sense of what they were seeing—or who. She was both, in that moment.

So no. She was not too late.

She could do this. She was strong enough to channel this power into existence. And she was not alone.

Every time she started to lose focus, she heard a soft voice calling her name, calling her back—Solatis. Every time she felt her body threatening to crumple under the weight of it all, she felt strong hands steadying her again—Elander.

But perhaps strength was not always about grabbing a sword and brandishing it tirelessly against monsters. Maybe, sometimes, it was standing amongst the rubble. Breathing it in. Being tired but still deciding to take another step, despite not knowing what awaited you on the other side.

“The doubt that was in your eyes back then isn’t there any longer,” said Namu. “Good.”

Elander was watching her closely, a hint of a soft, awed little smile on his lips. Their gazes met, and she found herself unable to look away from him. “I had been so afraid that we broke the world,” she said, quietly, “but I had a feeling you and I would be able to put things back together, too. I’m still not sure which—”

“For that is the true, dual nature of love, isn’t it?” she said. “A terrible, wonderful force. Nothing can break things so completely. Nothing can heal things so fully.

Nessa smelled of lavender and chamomile and other healing plants, and she radiated warmth—so

“You were dead.” Nessa squeezed back. “How lucky I am, then, to have a friend who seems to outsmart and defeat death at every turn.”

There was a slight smile dancing in his eyes, the kind she hadn’t seen in what felt like weeks. It drew a more earnest grin from her. It made her want to dream.

“We’ll need heirs, of course,” she said, matter-of-factly. Elander dropped the canteen, but recovered quickly, snatching it in mid-air before it hit the bed.

“And then you, old and grey—” “But still handsome.” “Obviously.” “And you will be as stunning as ever, too.” “We must remain equals, yes.”

He caught her chin and held it. “To everything after,” he said, lifting the canteen before taking a sip and then offering it to her.

The kiss was soft and slow, as though they had all the time in the world. She knew better, of course. She kissed him back as if she didn’t.

She wanted him to keep coming, to climb on top of her completely. It was not a particularly large dresser—but she felt confident they could make this work.

“So much I want to do to you,” he whispered, warm breath brushing her earlobe, “so little time.”

“We still have it, even if you can’t see it at the moment. Even if the scenery changes, nothing else does. I knew what I was getting into when I asked you to marry me. Even if it’s months from now, or years, or another lifetime before it’s all settled.”

Odd that he isn’t storming through our ranks and shouting orders. He so loves shouting orders…

“Let’s just focus on getting to the other side of this battle.” On to the other side.

She was loud and obnoxious, using every elvish slur Laurent had ever taught her, until her target finally tore his gaze from the man who had shot him and followed her.

“Why is it that every time I go away, I come back to find you bloodier than you were when I left you?”

“That all sounds a bit farfetched, doesn’t it?” Laurent cut him a sideways glance. “More farfetched than Casia traveling back in time? Or us walking alongside gods? Doing battle with them?” Zev accepted this point with a shrug and went back to watching the lake.

“Yes, because getting to know you better is number three on my to-do list—right below saving the world from vengeful gods, and murdering this sadistic bitch of an elf queen we’re trying to track down.

“Does Cas know about all of your countless experiences, I wonder?” “Oh yes, she’s very aware of how experienced I am.”

he wondered if Nessa had been there recently, if her magic had helped lull Casia to sleep. He made a mental note to thank the Feather-kind woman for that.

No matter how many times he looked at her, her beauty still threatened his balance.

“I thought I was only dreaming of you for a moment there.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Who says you aren’t dreaming? I’m very dreamy looking, aren’t I?”

Together, together, together. Gods, he had never wanted anything more than the two of them together—in this way and every other—for the rest of his existence.

Her eyes found his. And if he had not already been fully at her mercy, the look she gave him in that moment would have done it—he suspected it would have brought any man or god or king to his knees before her.

“We’ll just have to pick up what we can. And then make new things to fill in the empty spaces.”

Her time in Kantrum had prepared her for this, in a way. And she had been drowning all her life before that, it sometimes felt like—sinking into waves of anxiety and fear where her surroundings grew murky and her breaths came heavy and slow—if

before that king could speak, she shrugged out of her coat and rolled up her sleeves, revealing the scars Sarith had left upon her arms and shoulder. “Our wars are the same,” she said, “and there is no resting from them.”

His eyes gleamed with mirth—as if he was telling a joke. As if he thought, There is no chance she will agree to this. Cas was not in the mood for jokes. So she bowed her head to the elven king, and made her voice as cold and clear as ice. “Consider it done.”

“It does, doesn’t it? But it also feels like it’s come too close, too many times. And one of these times I’m going to be too slow and... I have nightmares. Nightmares of you slipping away in the waves, your hand just out of reach of mine.

She pressed as tightly as she could to hold him in place; he’d been her anchor so many times in the past. She wanted to be the same for him.

“I’ve never felt fear like this before,” he said. “I never used to be afraid of anything.”