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For every spark that has lost its light and needs a little help remembering how to glow.
He smelled like the forest—my favorite place in the world, the only place I felt truly alive. He smelled like home.
It made me hate him even more.
“I’d be happy to give you a tour of the palace grounds tomorrow. That is, if you can escape the clutches of your royal babysitter here.” Luther stiffened. “That won’t be necess—”
“Something to add?” I asked in my most innocent tone. “You made it quite clear you do not desire my counsel.” “That’s never stopped you before.”
“No, I’m not disappointed. I’ve always believed it’s my destiny to serve the Crown, not to wear it.”
“Tell me how to prove to you that you can trust me,” he murmured, his lips grazing my skin. “Trust you?” I choked,
“I should put all four of your heads on a pike for treason. I just assaulted the Queen, and you cowards stood there and watched me do it. The next time someone lays a hand on her and you don’t kill them where they stand, I’ll carve out your eyeballs and feed them to the fucking hounds. It doesn’t matter if it’s me or the Regent or Blessed Mother Lumnos herself. Do your damn jobs and protect our Queen.”
A thump of angry footsteps, followed by the slamming of a nearby door. Interesting, I thought.
All because I, Diem Bellator, poor mortal healer, wore the Crown. I was the Queen of Lumnos.
Luther. His cool composure lasted all of two seconds as he gazed down at my dripping, barely covered body, his eyes darkening to pitch.
“We’ve discussed this, Prince.” I pointed at my face. “Eyes up here.” His throat strained. He stood straighter and offered me a lumpy linen sack. “I brought you a few things.”
He sounded a little defensive. It was, disturbingly, a little cute.
never thought the great Luther Corbois would be the type to fuss, but he hardly left your side. He kept checking your pulse every few minutes to make sure you were still alive. When I finally convinced him to go bathe, he made me swear not to take my eyes off you.”
“Sorry, girl,” I muttered. “If anyone’s going to kill Luther Corbois, it’s going to be me.”
Whatever strange force it represented had taken to punctuating every breath with the same word: Fight. Fight. Fight. The chant was a steady metronome, keeping the tempo
“Use your magic, or I attack.” My own fingers contracted at the sight of his, yearning to respond in kind. Destroy.
“Next, you’ll try to claim you didn’t kiss me.” “I didn’t,” I snapped. “You kissed me. I was an innocent bystander.” “There was nothing innocent about that kiss. From either of us.”
“This is beneath you,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He rolled his fucking eyes. Destroy. Destroy.
And he was grinning. Grinning. The sight of it undid me. I was a dying star, exploding and imploding, consuming all I touched.
His bloody body was covered in a collage of cuts and burns, one eyebrow half-scorched from his face—but he was radiant. Practically giddy. His smile stretched from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming with delighted shock.
“Blessed Kindred, you’re incredible—and that was just a hint of it. You’re going to be unstoppable. I have no idea how keeping all that in for this long didn’t burn you alive.”
I was Descended. I had magic. I was strong, and I was fast. I could heal.
I looked up, my fractured, bleeding heart reflected in his concerned eyes. “If you want my trust, then give me your word you’ll protect them, even if I can’t.”
“Normally, when you come in a room, I can feel your magic. Today, I can’t.” He leaned back with a heavy sigh. “Because I drained my magic last night trying to keep the palace from coming down on our heads. You should be proud—normally it takes me hours to burn out. You ran through my reserves in minutes.”
“Whatever those plans are, Your Majesty,” he rumbled, “I can help. I will find a way to prove that to you.”
“You have the most to gain from my failure. Why should I trust you?” “Your mother trusted me.”
“I will not break my promise, but I can give you this,” he said. “If she isn’t back by year end, I’ll go get her and bring her to you myself. You have my word.”
The smirk that peeked through whenever he found a way to get under my skin.
“Diem Corbois, I’m so very glad that you’re my Queen.”
“But rest assured, my Queen, when I do kiss you, there will be no confusion. You will know that I have claimed you—and I won’t have any desire to deny it.” All of me flushed.
swallowed. I hadn’t missed his choice of words. Not if I kiss you. Not in the rare and unlikely event I kiss you. When I kiss you.
“Never,” I blurted out, clutching the book protectively to my chest. “I would never reveal this, not to anyone. Ever.” “I know. I trust you.”
He let out a heavy, loaded sigh. “Then we’ll plan. If he is what you want, I’ll help you find a way.”
sides. “There’s much you don’t yet know about me, Your Majesty.” I’m beginning to see that, I mused to myself.
“Your mother had a habit of making grand threats she had no intention of following through on.” A spark of amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Just like her daughter.”
“His Royal Highness Lord Luther Corbois, Most Honorable Keeper of the Laws, Warden of the Light, High General of the Guard, Esteemed Member of the Crown Council, Personal Advisor to the Crown and Prince of Lumnos, Realm of Light and Shadows.”
His mask slipped briefly as he shot me a good-natured glare. “I’ve been instructed to beg forgiveness for failing to inform my beautiful Queen of certain ‘vital information’ that she would ‘dearly like to know.
“I, more than anyone, know how not fragile you are,” he growled, his calm slipping. “But it is my sworn duty to protect you in whatever ways I can.”
“I’m not a child, Luther, I am a grown woman.” “Believe me, Your Majesty, I am well aware.” His voice was low and rough, heavy with implication.
I wanted him to be the one squirming under my stare and questioning everything he thought he knew about me.
Fighting with him, teasing him—it was like lighting a fuse and closing my eyes, never knowing just how close I was to destruction.
I didn’t hate Luther. Against my better judgment, I had begun to genuinely trust him.
I liked... him. Oh, gods. I liked him.
“I have enough people in my life who tried to protect me by keeping things from me, Luther. I have no need for any more of them. Especially now.”
Deference. An unspoken apology. I slowed my pace until he caught up to my side. Acceptance. An unspoken forgiveness.
“Luther,” I gasped. “Two jokes in one day! You’re going to need a nap to recover from this excitement.” He smiled at me—a new smile, this one warm and humble, but also a little bit triumphant.
“Let me guess,” I teased, trying to ignore the warmth rushing to my face. “You preferred when I wore nothing but a towel?” His expression heated,
“Or maybe you prefer me in muddy pants and a borrowed tunic.” “Only when it’s mine.”
The thought of it had my stomach twisting in a way that made me feel ill.
