All the Sacrifice of Shadows (Starstorm #2)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

C reslyn spent most of the morning and afternoon with Caelian in Celestine’s bustling city center. They strolled arm in arm, browsing dazzling window displays filled with crystal moon catchers and bottles of perfume that shimmered like starlight. When their stomachs growled in unison, they stopped into Moonbeams, an adorable bakery with tiers of sweets, and chose from a selection of decadent desserts. Creslyn opted for a sugared sunrise cupcake. It had been ages since she had one and they simply didn’t exist in Brackroth, while Caelian picked her favorite, starberry cheesecake. They flitted between shops, admiring gowns of silk and velvet, sifting through assortments of teas and chocolates, all the while on the hunt for the perfect wedding gift for Novalise and Asher.

Finally, after much deliberation, they settled on a crystal sphere filled with a drop of magic from each of them. A rainbow from Creslyn and falling stars from Caelian. The magic swirled together in the sphere, an illustrious blend of iridescent starlight that formed an image of Novalise and Asher in each other’s arms as bursts of frostfire and starfire sparked around them. The shopkeeper packaged the beautiful crystal sphere, wrapping it in folds of tissue and tinsel, and once it was ready, the sisters made their way back home.

Already the sun was drifting across the early autumn sky, its warmth near fleeting, barely enough to ease the chill of the new season.

Creslyn knew Drake had promised to take them on a dragon ride, so she returned to her room to change out of her day dress into something more suitable, only to find a gown laid over her bed with a folded piece of parchment placed on top of it.

Scripted in fine lettering with black ink were the words “ wear the diamonds.”

Her heart thumped wildly as she inched closer, and her breath hitched in the back of her throat. The resplendent dress was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Sunbeams spilled in through the far window, reflecting dozens of tiny rainbows throughout the room. Diamonds of every shape and size covered every inch of the gown, the clusters of them forming an array of constellations. The sleeves were long and fell off the shoulders, the bodice cut dangerously low, and there was a detailed slit up one side where the sparkling gemstones exploded like shooting stars. Navy blue silk lined the underside of the gown, and when Creslyn lifted it from the bed, it felt as though she was holding a thousand stars and the entirety of the night sky in her hands.

She slipped it on, fastening the sheer laces as best she could, and turned to admire herself in the mirror. The wind had blown her hair loose from its plait, so she raked her fingers through the waves, leaving the strands to fall around her. Her cheeks were already pink from walking around the city’s square, so she dabbed a plum-colored cream from a pot of paint onto her lips. She rummaged through her drawers of jewelry, selecting the matching diamond collar necklace and earrings. The cold press of the stones against her skin sent a chill of excitement pebbling down her spine.

Again, her pulse skittered out of control, and her palms grew damp.

She was going to be married.

Tonight.

Shadows lengthened along the walls, obscuring the dwindling shards of light as twilight mingled with the fading sun.

Creslyn shifted to face them, her nerves settling as she breathed in his scent. “Drake?”

“Yes, sjellhert ?” He stepped from the darkness, and her knees wobbled at the sight of him.

Drake was clad in his usual black attire, yet it was different this time. Sharper. More elaborate. He wore a sleek black shirt with the collar popped, and a longer overcoat of onyx that was lined with threads of silver. Dragon wings were stitched onto the shoulders, his pants were trim, accentuating his finely cut physique, and his boots were polished. He wore no gloves, revealing the small slashes of scars across his knuckles and the signet ring that reminded her of Svartos. Drake stood before her looking as though he encompassed the whole of the night, as though he’d absorbed every shred of light.

Pieces of dark hair fell loose from the knot at the back of his head, framing his handsome face, and the rest of the silky strands hung just above his shoulders. But it was his eyes that entranced her, that left her feeling as though he could see through her, to the depths of her soul. Their deep evergreen shade sucked her in, like she was wandering through a forbidden forest, drawn to the endless lure of enticement.

Her mouth had gone dry, words fled her.

By all counts, she should be accustomed to carrying on a conversation, but when he looked at her like that , like she was the whole of his universe, she couldn’t remember how to speak.

“You are illustrious, kearsta .” He held out his hand and she accepted, allowing him to draw her into the darkness. “What need do I have for air? You steal away my every breath.”

Drake molded her against him, pulling her close.

The shadows magnified, cool as they coasted along her skin. His magic enveloped her as the world melded into disoriented shades of gray. She clung to him, weaving her arms around his neck while they stole through glimpses of darkness. The shadow world was mesmerizing, an assault on the senses. Sounds were disoriented, movement was slow and weighted. It was like being swept away into a realm where she ceased to exist, where the world simply carried on without her. Further they ventured, slipping through the rest of the house unnoticed, then deeper into the gardens, past flowering arches and whispering fountains. Until finally, the ledge of the mountain came into view, along with two dragons. Svartos’s black scales gleamed like moonlit obsidian, while the other had the coloring of violent storm clouds—menacing slate and moody gray.

Drake’s shadows dissolved, and he stepped from the disguise of magic, bringing her with him.

Creslyn gripped his arm for support, her blood hummed, and her thoughts spun. If she could live with him between the shadows, between worlds, where it was only the two of them and no one else, she would.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he murmured, bending down toward her so the warmth of his breath drifted past her cheek. “For anything that is given, the shadow realm takes.”

Creslyn glanced up at him sharply, a frown tugging at her lips. She intended to ask what he meant by such a cautionary statement, but then Kjeld and Caelian were walking toward them.

“Cres,” Caelian breathed, her eyes widening at the sight of her twin. “That dress…it’s…it’s magnificent.”

A flush spread up Creslyn’s neck, bleeding into her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“General Holtstrom was just introducing me to the dragons.” Caelian gestured behind them to where Svartos and the other dragon sat low to the ground, shifty and restless, as though they couldn’t wait to stretch their majestic wings. “You likely already know Svartos, and this one is Odryss, General Holtstrom’s dragon.”

Kjeld tugged on the collar of his deep green shirt, loosening it. “I’ve told you already, Lady Caelian, you may call me Kjeld.”

Caelian’s sapphire gaze flicked to Kjeld, and she dipped her head, the tips of her pointed ears turning the faintest shade of pink. “Yes, I remember. But if you continue to call me Lady Caelian, then it seems only fair I should address you by your title as well.”

Creslyn laughed, then almost snorted, and immediately covered her mouth.

“I am so sorry.” Her apology came out muffled behind her hand, and she found Drake watching her, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s just General Holt—that is, Kjeld and I had almost this exact same conversation a few days ago.”

Kjeld’s scarred mouth twitched. “Indeed we did, my lady.”

Then he held out his hand to Caelian. “Are you ready for your first dragon ride?”

She hesitated before accepting his hand. “Y-yes.”

“Wonderful. Up you go then.” He snatched her by the waist, and she squealed as Kjeld hoisted her into the seat on his dragon’s back. In one swift movement, he hefted himself up behind her and took the reins.

Drake lifted Creslyn with ease onto Svartos, his movements fluid as he took his place behind her, curling her into him with one arm. With her legs hanging over one side, she twisted slightly to face him. He lifted a brow, his lips curving into a slow, sensual smile. Then he nodded once.

“ Vaeja ,” Creslyn called softly, and Svartos rose at her command.

Wings stretched wide and claws scraped into the earth as the dragons clambered toward the edge of the cliff. Svartos kicked up fallen rocks and debris, the trees trembled in his wake, and Creslyn clutched onto Drake’s arm as the dragon launched himself off the cliff face.

Then they were soaring.

Caelian’s screech was pinched with terror, then followed by a bubble of laughter as Kjeld guided his dragon to glide alongside them. Creslyn glanced over at the two of them—where Caelian was positively glowing, Kjeld looked more than a little uncomfortable. He had one arm locked snuggly around Caelian’s waist, as though he thoroughly expected her to fall off and tumble out of the sky.

Creslyn leaned against Drake’s broad chest, her head resting just beneath his shoulder. She always forgot how much taller he was, how he seemed to constantly tower over her, even when sitting. He kissed the top of her head, steering Svartos higher through the clouds that floated past them like spun pink candy made of cotton. They flew past a number of carriages pulled by the Eponians, but the winged stallions were no match for the speed of dragon flight. Higher they went, over the jeweled forest of Emberspire, until the wondrous structure of House Galefell graced the horizon, its numerous balconies and open-air walkways crowned in violet and silver from the rise of twilight. Low-lying pillowy clouds always floated around it, drifting lazily around its base, as a flight of Eponians coasted between ivory pillars.

Eventually, they circled back around, and nightfall slowly descended upon them. Tendrils of silvery blue clouds unfurled across the heavens and stars winked against a backdrop of ink. The sharp rise of the Moonfall Peaks glowed in the wash of moonlight, and the dragons coasted downward, landing upon one of the steep mountain ledges. Here, the air was cold and the wind sent a chill through Creslyn that rattled her bones. But the stars…oh, she gazed up at them, lost herself to their vastness. The constellations danced, their archaic power twinkling like drops of liquid silver against a canvas of indigo.

“Are you ready, kearsta ?” Drake asked as Svartos landed.

She glanced up at him. “For what?”

Drake scooped her into his arms and abandoned his seat on the dragon’s back, setting her gently upon the ground. His hand curved around her neck where the diamonds hugged her skin, as his thumb stroked the hollow of her throat. “To marry me.”

“Here?” She twirled once, her gown clinking quietly like faerie bells.

“Yes.” His hand slid to her bare shoulder, then fell away. “Right here. Right now.”

Kjeld and Caelian joined them at the cliff’s edge. Caelian’s breath misted before her and she curled into her velvet cloak, but her eyes were alight with elation. Kjeld, on the other hand, looked more somber than Creslyn would have expected.

Doubt prodded at the back of her mind.

Perhaps he did not deem her worthy of marrying his prince after all.

“My lady.” Kjeld bowed and when he straightened, his expression had softened slightly. She imagined it was often difficult for someone of his fierceness to not always look brash and intimidating. “The marriage customs in Brackroth are not the same as they are in Aeramere. We don’t bind hands with ribbons or magic. Instead, we bind through blood.”

“Blood,” Creslyn repeated, her voice coming out as more of a squeak. She swallowed hard, pushing through the discomfort of such a notion, and stole a glance at her twin.

Caelian shifted on her feet, a line of concern furrowed her usually smooth brow, and her lips were pinched in displeasure.

Creslyn blew out a low breath and found Drake watching her. He pinned her with a gaze of provocation, a silent challenge. Waiting to see if she would stand her ground and remain true to her word or flee.

“It’s an ancient tradition dating back hundreds of years,” Kjeld explained, attempting to paint a picture in her mind. “When the bride and groom would join together through blood. A promise to one another. An eternal oath. It’s a small slice across the palm, nothing to fear.”

Creslyn’s attention snapped to him, and she lifted her chin. “I am not afraid.”

Kjeld smiled, but it was off. Perhaps even forced. It was a smile of disbelief. “Now, it might be a bit different with the two of you. Mostly because you’re fae and Prince Drake is…”

Drake cleared his throat.

Kjeld ducked his head. “Well, His Highness is something else entirely.”

“Meaning?” Creslyn pressed, his vague explanation needled at her rising wall of doubt.

“Meaning that once your blood fuses between the palms, there is a possibility it could alter things.” Kjeld tugged on his shirt. It was far too constricting for a man of his size anyway, but Creslyn surmised it was not the fabric that bothered him. But his conscience. And everything he did not say. “There is a chance Prince Drake could gain some of your magic, and you may gain some of his.”

Creslyn fiddled with the diamonds on her gown. She’d known from the beginning that marrying Drake was a risk, but this… this binding of blood and swapping of magic was not something she’d been prepared to handle. In fact, Drake had failed to mention anything of the sort to her at all. She lifted her gaze to him, and she caught the play of shadows crawling up one half of him while the rest was showered in moonlight, and she realized that not once had he spoken. He hadn’t uttered a single word since this entire conversation began. He’d simply stood there, staring at her. Expressionless. Not a trace of emotion to be found.

She wanted to march right up to him and slap that impassive look of absolute nothingness right off his face.

Drake’s brow lifted, and his mouth quirked.

Creslyn fumed. She was ready to open a verbal assault upon him when Caelian’s voice cut through her frenzied thoughts.

“So, what exactly are you saying, General Holtstrom?” She planted both of her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “That the fusion of Creslyn and Prince Drake’s blood could somehow change their magic? It could alter their current abilities?”

Kjeld stepped back, putting a safe stretch of distance between them. He shoved some fallen strands of golden hair back from his face, then winced, as though preparing for impact. “Like calls to like, my lady.”

“But my sister is not shadows and darkness. She is beauty and light.” Caelian shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself, and her velvet skirts of lavender billowed in the stiff breeze. She looked up at the wide, glittering night sky as though searching for an answer. But she could not read the stars, and she twisted her hands together, wrought with worry. Her shoulders slumped and tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. When she spoke again, her voice was hollow. “Creslyn is the opposite of the shadow prince in every way imaginable.”

“Are sunlight and shadow not two halves of the same whole?” Kjeld countered, finding his bearing against her storm of emotions. He reached out, cautiously placing his hand on her shoulder in an effort to soothe her frustration. “One cannot exist without the other, Lady Caelian. They are like magnets, two forces that are drawn to one another, much as the waves always return to the shore.”

Caelian heaved a dramatic sigh, then faced her sister. “Are you certain you want to do this? To give up a piece of yourself to him?”

Creslyn found those frosty green eyes of Drake’s and held them. This time, he was her captive.

“I already have.”

Drake bowed his head.

Therein lay the truth of the matter.

Marrying Drake would not come without great sacrifice. She may not have been ready to admit it to herself, but Creslyn knew she would be giving up more than her home. She would be surrendering part of her soul. Yet despite it all, she still wanted him. She saw the good in him, that sliver of compassion, of tolerance, that wavering thread of his lost humanity. Even if she was the only one who would ever see it, who would ever feel it, that would be enough for her.

Caelian stepped back and Kjeld came forward, positioning himself between Creslyn and Drake as they faced one another. He pulled a small dagger from his pocket, the hilt wrapped in leather and the blade engraved with a dragon. Giving a small nod of encouragement, Kjeld reached for her. “Your hand, my lady.”

Creslyn placed her hand, palm up, in his and while the beating of her heart seemed to thunder in her own ears, her breathing remained calm. Even and deep. She looked over at him. “What do I say?”

Kjeld’s slight grin widened, and a kind of warmth filled his face despite the chill. “Whatever is in your heart.”

Creslyn stared into the face of the man who would own her heart, whether she wanted him to or not.

“I take you, Drake Kalstrand, to be mine. From now until my last breath.” She winced as the tip of the blade cut into her flesh, and then suddenly Drake was there, his arm latching around her waist, holding her so close she could hear the steady beating of his heart. He bent low, pressed his forehead to hers, and she melted into him. He held her until their chests rose and fell in unison, until the pain in her hand was all but forgotten. “You are the darkness to my light, the shadow to my sun, the night sky to my stars. I see you as you are, I accept you, scars and all. For as long as Vespira remains in the sky with her staff casting over us, my soul is yours.”

Drake edged back, just enough to give Kjeld his hand, but he didn’t spare the blade a glance. His eyes were only for her.

“Creslyn Starstorm. Sjellhert . You are the first blossom of spring, the seduction of summer’s warmth, the chill of autumn’s breath, and winter’s final kiss.” Again, Drake lowered his head, his lips barely a breath from her own, but he held her gaze, those eyes of his keeping her rooted in strength. When he spoke again, his accent was thick and tainted by an emotion she didn’t recognize. “You are my compass. My star in the northern sky. You are my whispering tides, and I shall only ever worship your shores. You are the aurora in the midnight hour, that which beckons my soul.”

Tears flooded Creslyn’s vision, wrenched from some part of her she’d kept safely locked away for so long. Her bottom lip quivered, and she did not look away from him when she blinked and let them fall.

Drake’s finger grazed the apple of her cheek, catching a single tear. Then he took her hand in his and laced their fingers together, so the sting in her palm met the cool touch of his own.

“Drown your secrets, your sorrows, in me.”

With his other hand, he cupped the back of her neck and kissed her.

But this kiss, it was not like the others. It was imbued with magic, with wild energy, with fearless power. Crushing shadows and brilliant beams of sunlight collided in a chaotic whirlwind of midnight rainbows. His mouth slashed across hers, his tongue sought hers, exploring. Searching. Drake carved open that shadowy piece of her lurking deep within her heart. He exposed her. Left her raw. Bare. Creslyn tangled her fingers in his hair and pushed back, unleashing a storm of shattered prisms and sunbeams into the endless swath of his darkness. She dragged her teeth along his bottom lip, desperate for more, for all he was willing to give. Creslyn took. She claimed. And in that moment, Drake splintered.

He released her roughly, jerking backward, away from her, as he broke their kiss.

Creslyn gasped and Drake’s chest heaved, the intense burning of his eyes setting fire to her skin. A fiery emotion flared to life, and he banked it, shuttering it away before she could focus on it for too long.

“General Holtstrom, take Lady Caelian home.” Drake’s gaze flicked to his bloodied open palm, then back to Creslyn’s face. “I need to have a word with my wife .”

“Wait, that’s it?” Caelian asked, disappointment weighing down her tone as Kjeld guided her back to where Odryss waited. “It was a rather brief ceremony. Does something else happen next?”

“Trust me, my lady,” Kjeld grunted and plucked her off the ground before depositing her onto Odryss’s back. “You don’t want to be around for what happens next.”

At Kjeld’s bold words, Creslyn’s cheeks flushed as a blush crawled up her neck and spread across her chest. But when she looked back at Drake, his brows were drawn, his eyes were illuminated with a feral ferocity, and she could’ve sworn he growled.

Her new husband did not look like he wanted to rip off her clothing.

Drake looked positively murderous .