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“Did you think I walked everywhere?” A hint of amusement colored his voice. “I thought you just... appeared. Dramatically. With unnecessary flair.” “Only when the situation calls for it.”
“She can wield the stars?” Nyxis asked, delight crossing her features. “No wonder you chose her.” She leaned across the counter toward me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “He used to watch the sky for hours as a child, you know. Even in a domain like this, he always loved the stars.”
“You actually smiled in there. I didn’t think your face could make that shape.” His eyes locked on mine—all edge, no burn. “Don’t get used to it.”
He was everything I’d sworn to destroy—a god, an executioner, a being who represented the system that had taken everything from me. And yet. I couldn’t deny the way my pulse quickened when he was near, the way his rare smiles made something twist in my chest. This wasn’t part of the plan.
“Were you afraid?” “Terrified,” she admitted. “But sometimes terror and exhilaration are separated by the thinnest of margins. I think you understand that, given your current circumstances.”
“Morthus and I swore the Sev’anarath,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “What is that exactly?”
“It’s ancient—older than the Twelve themselves,” she explained. “A ritual that binds two souls together across time, distance, even the barriers between life and death.” Her hand absently moved to rest over her heart. “We become... extensions of each other. I feel his pain, his joy. He feels mine.”
“Why tell me this?” I asked, suddenly aware of how personal this revelation was. “Because stories are how we preserve truth, even when others would see it forgotten.”
“The history of the divine is often sanitized, rewritten. This—what Morthus and I share—is a truth many would prefer remained buried.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she assured me. “I just thought you should know. My son builds walls like others build temples—with dedication, precision, and absolute commitment. The fact that you’ve glimpsed what lies behind them is... significant.”
Curse the gods. I was reaching for ghosts again.
"This is..." he began, his voice dropping lower, "dangerous territory, starling. I'm not in the right state of mind to see you like this—with nothing but that flimsy excuse for clothing between you and the night."
"I have never," he said, each word deliberate, "felt like my life belonged to me." He looked up at the sky. "I was born a pawn in a game larger than myself." He trailed off, his expression darkening. "I remain as bound as any prisoner in my cells."
"They taught me that power is the only language the divine truly respect. That weakness will always be exploited."
"I collected knowledge. Leverage. My father collects souls; I collect secrets."
"Now I find myself in the unprecedented position of wanting to protect your secret rather than exploit it."
"I've never met someone who didn't want something from me—power, protection, status, alliance. Someone who wouldn’t lie to my face just to please me."
"Everyone sees what I represent, what I can provide. But you... you just see me. The good and the terrible alike."
"I can't believe I'm telling you any of this," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "What kind of spell have you cast, starling?"
I closed my eyes, letting myself exist in this impossible moment—safe in the arms of death itself.
Each step felt like both a victory and a loss.
But they would have to kill us before we spoke our truth. Because our truth was a death sentence either way.
And just like that, I was alone with the architect of my nightmares.
"And now that control is holding you back." He stopped behind me, close enough that the hairs on my neck rose in response. His breath ghosted over my skin when he spoke. "You need to let go, starling."
"Can I make you burn?"
"You don't need that control, starling," Xül continued, his voice a dark caress. "Give it to me."
"Look at me, starling," he demanded.
I forced my eyes open to find his gaze burning into mine—gold and black, night and day, fixed on me.
"No." His voice turned sharp. "You don't get to leave. Do you hear me? You stay here. You stay with me."
"You don't get to leave. Do you hear me? You stay here. You stay with me."
"I know, starling. Just hold on. Stay with me."
"Don't you dare," Xül growled. "You don't get to die here, not this way. Not on my watch."
"Love was never part of the equation, Thais," he said. "Not for someone like me."
"That sounds... lonely," I said quietly. A small smile touched his lips. "You get used to it." But I could see in his eyes that he hadn't—not really. Behind the cold mask of the Death Prince was someone who had spent his entire life holding everyone at arm's length.
That kiss had been a means to an end for him. It meant nothing. Could mean nothing. And yet it lingered like a brand on my memory.
"Always, starling,"
"I see someone who looks gods in the eye without flinching," he said, his voice taut. "Someone who calls out every lie, who slices through pretense effortlessly. The woman who stood on that beach her first night here, utterly exposed and completely unashamed. Defiant."
"You're the woman who stood in this very room and showed me what freedom looks like," he said without hesitation. "The one who refuses to play by rules she didn't make. You're..." He paused, seeming to search for the right words. "You're the most honest person I've ever met. Even when it costs you. Especially then."
"For what it's worth," he said quietly, "I think the world would be poorer without Thais Morvaren in it."
"My father used to say that," I admitted.
"Wise man," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "And I assure you, Thais—I am very rarely wrong."
Hes trying to tell her! He knows and hes on her side!
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t appreciate how he was looking at you.” "And how was he looking at me?" "Like you were something to be devoured," he hissed, finally meeting my gaze. "Like you were his for the taking."
"There you are."
"I've been looking for you,"
He turned, slipping off his overcoat. "Because I'm tired of pretending," My eyes fell on the way his black shirt stretched against the width of his back. "Pretending what?" "That I don't want you." Five words. Five simple words that I had craved so badly.
"I've tried to fight it. Tried to bury it." "And yet here we are," I whispered, my own voice unrecognizable to my ears. "Here we are," he agreed.
"I realized I couldn't bear it. Couldn't stand the thought of him—of anyone—touching you." "You have no right to be jealous," I said, though the knowledge that he was sent a thrill through me. "None whatsoever," he agreed, his lips curving into a predatory smile. "And yet here I am, burning with it." His mouth hovered above mine, not quite touching. "Tell me to stop," he challenged, his voice rough with restraint. "Tell me to take you back to the ball, and we'll never speak of this again." I should have. Should have remembered my pride, my purpose, the deadly game of which I was still a part.
...more
”I’m going to burn you alive, Thais" he growled, his voice scraped raw. "To make up for all the time wasted."
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he demanded, lifting me onto the dresser's edge. His hands forced my thighs apart, claiming the space between them as his territory. "Tell me, Thais. Tell me that little mortal body of yours has been wet for me since I pulled you from that dance."
The mirror caught our reflection—my disheveled form perched on the edge of the dresser, his kneeling before me like a worshiper at an altar of flesh.
