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Zilvaren, the Great and Shining Banner of the North, was fashioned after the shape of a wheel. Around the city’s outer limits, the different spokes—walls designed to keep people contained in their wards—towered fifty meters high above the shanty towns and overflowing sewers.
the suns, Balea and Min,
This bastard would shit himself if he realized he had the Saeris Fane in his grasp.
“Residents of Third Ward are quarantined. Punishment for leaving the ward is… is…”
As I heaved myself over the ledge, particles of quartz in the sand began to vibrate, jittering in the air a millimeter above the sandstone as the gold came alive.
The particles of quartz rose up, up, up. She sees us. She feels us. She sees us. She feels us. She—
Elroy’s business was glass. With an abundance of sand at his fingertips, he’d made it his life’s work to become the best glassmaker and glazier in all of Zilvaren.
Once upon a time, Elroy used to make illicit weapons for the rebel gangs who fought to overthrow Madra.
When I was little, Elroy had been a giant of a man. A legend amongst even the most dangerous criminals that ran the Third. Taller than most, broad, his back muscles straining beneath his sweat-stained shirt. He’d been a force of nature. A pillar of rock hewn out of a mountain. Immovable. Indestructible.
hunting for mythical magic users who didn’t even exist.
Madra was searching for alchemists.
Sometimes, objects shook around me. Objects made of iron, tin, or gold. Once, I’d been able to move one of Elroy’s daggers without touching it so that it had spun around and around on my mother’s dining table, balancing on its cross guard.
the fact that the two of us loomed over most people in a crowded room,
Why are they both so tall?
She used to call him her summer child. She’d never seen snow, but that’s what I had been to her: her ice storm. Distant. Cold. Sharp.
Carrion Swift: the most notorious gambler, cheat, and smuggler in the entire city. He was also uncommonly good in bed—the only man in Zilvaren who’d ever made me scream his name out of pleasure rather than frustration. His bright auburn hair was a signal flare in the dimly lit tavern.
Brynn had a surname, but no one knew it. When asked, she’d say she’d lost it as a child and had never bothered to locate it again.
Where she was from, Kala meant funeral, and Brynn didn’t appreciate being likened to death.
Where IS she from?!?!
The man was capable of anything. His fingers were lighter than the dawn breeze. He’d talked me out of my underwear—perhaps the greatest heist ever performed in Zilvaren—and people hadn’t stopped talking about that for months.
Sparkling blue eyes danced with amusement as Carrion met my gaze. His hair was copper and gold and burnished umber, as if each strand were a fine thread of the metals that were so precious to Queen Madra. He was always the tallest person in a room by at least a foot, broad across the shoulders, and held himself with a confidence that made girls all over Zilvaren swoon.
“I never met a rule I didn’t wanna break, Sunshine.”
Carrion’s eyes traveled down my body, his smile broadening when they skimmed over my hips, and the memory of his tongue skimming over my hips slammed into me out of nowhere, drawing a wave of heat to my cheeks. “You’re pretty when you blush, y’know.” The godscursed thief didn’t miss a thing.
Carrion can ducking smell her arousal here…. 🤭
His hair glinted red, then gold, then deepest, richest brown
“I’m not beautiful. I’m filthy, and I’m tired, and my voice is full of sarcasm and annoyance, so let’s just get on with this, shall we?”
“Careful, human. We Fae have an excellent sense of smell. You’d be amazed what we can scent floating on the air.”
“That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I’m thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you’re making for me straight from the fucking cup.”
“Careful,” he panted. “I swore I’d be still while you kissed me. At no point did I promise to exercise restraint if you climbed up into my lap and started grinding yourself against my cock.”
“Only the person sealed to it can touch an active Alchimeran sword.
“I’ll happily kiss all of your aches and pains better for you once we strike camp. I’ve been told my mouth has healing properties. Especially when administered between a pair of thighs.”
“There’s every way,” Fisher rumbled, his eyes darkening. “I’d know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I’d know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I’d be able to scent you—”
“If I were evil and using your oath for my own purposes, I’d order you onto your knees for me,” he said, cutting me off. “I’d order you to part your legs for me. I’d order you to suck and fuck me until you passed out from exhaustion. Is that what you want, Little Osha?”
“You asked for this. When you’re sore from coming so hard and you can’t recall your own name, remember that, Little Osha.”
“My, my. So worked up already? You’re slick as hell. What do you taste like, mm? Are you going to scream for me like a good girl when I have you ride my face?”
“When you take all of me, remember to breathe.”
“I can’t wait to hear what kind of sounds you make when I thrust into you for the first time,” he purred. “I’m going to make you pant for me, Little Osha. And when we’re done, I’ll close my eyes and replay the sound of you moaning in my head every time I stroke myself to completion.”
“No arguments, Osha. I’ve driven myself half-crazy wondering what you look like. I need to fucking see. Put me out of my misery.”
“Perfect. You’re absolutely fucking perfect. If Danya does rip my head off tomorrow, at least now I’ll die happy.”
“You smell so, so fucking good,” he said thickly. “Back in the forge at the palace, I caught a hint of this. I knew then I had to taste you. This smell has been haunting my fucking dreams. I haven’t been able to think straight for remembering the scent of your need.” “I could probably use a sho—” “Do not fucking dare finish that sentence,” he snarled. “I don’t want a mouthful of soap and perfume. I want to taste you.
“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”
Every warrior in Irrín will smell me on you, Fisher’s voice rumbled in my mind. I’m going to make you hoarse from screaming my fucking name. I’m going to mark you in every way imaginable, so that everyone knows you’re fucking mine.
“Nobody will ever fuck you the way I’m about to fuck you, Saeris Fane. I’m about to introduce you to all seven gods. When you meet them, don’t forget to tell them I’m the one you worship on your knees.”
“I’ll be grateful for every second that I can say that I belong to you, Saeris Fane. Eighty years or eighteen hours. It doesn’t matter to me. It’ll still be the highest honor of my life. But don’t—Are you about to have a heart attack? Your pulse is flying.”
He is the storm. You are the peace that must come after it. Tell me, do you believe in the fates, Alchemist?
Do not drift too far from the shore, Saeris Fane. Come back now. Come back.
You stand before a door. Your hand is poised to knock. Are you ready to walk through it? Will you leave this place and see what lies beyond in the next?
A shadow falls across Yvelia. It will alter all it touches. You would rather remain here, knowing that suffering and hardship loom on the horizon? That sacrifices will need to be made?
As you wish. Then we call in our favor, Saeris Fane. Will you honor your word and grant us our favor?
“An Alchemist, at last, to reset the balance and clear the way for what is to come.”
“There is a rot spreading throughout my domain, Saeris,” he said. “Realms that are infected with that rot have to be summarily destroyed to protect the rest of the tree and prevent that rot from spreading. Do you understand?”
“You were supposed to have been born Fae, in the same realm as your Kingfisher. So I separated you. Hundreds of years before you were born, I shifted the events around your birth. Moved the pieces on the board and placed you far away, in a realm that should never have come into contact with his. But I watched as the boughs of the universe grew against their nature and aligned in such a way that you would still meet. I foresaw then that no matter how the boughs and branches of this tree were manipulated, you and he would always collide. There was nothing I could do to stop it.”
“Threads like you and Kingfisher, that are drawn together and cross on an axis create a well of power. The energy the two of you draw together attracts an equal and opposite counterweight. Every possible future where the two of you are together ends with the vast majority of this tree dying. None of us can foresee any other way.”
“These oaths mark you as my ward. They protect both you and Fisher from the unwanted attentions of my brothers and my sister.”
