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. Lyäri wyl Betuläria. “The golden one and the deathly flight,”
God they are just perfect. Better than feyre and rhysand dare i say
