Between the Moon and Her Night (Between Life and Death #3)

Chapter 46

Von

D own in my crypt, the spirits whispered with one another as I closed the lid to the glass casket, laying Saphira’s wings to rest, as well as the shattered remains of the sibling relationship we once had.

Saphira had not died today, but in so many ways, it felt like she had.

Both she and Folkoln had been with me since the dawn of my creation. We had all been made together, however, Saphira and Folkoln’s souls were placed in children’s bodies while mine was placed in an adult one. That meant I got to watch them grow up together, and although they were my siblings, I raised them.

For many years, Folkoln was the problematic one, living up to his title—the God of Chaos—but then somewhere along the lines, they switched. Saphira became fixated on finding her mate, and the longer she waited, the colder she became .

Then, when she found Aryx, I saw that same old version of Saphira return, the one I had once known when she was younger, only to watch it be snuffed out again when he died.

A memory flickered free, one that was from many lifetimes ago . . .

“You promised,” huffed the young goddess, her black brows thrown together, bottom lip poking out. She gave me that look. The one that told me that I was in deep, deep trouble.

I set down the thin-bladed tool I had made and leaned back in my stool, looking over top of the table to where Saphira stood. Warmly, I said, “I know I did, and I fully intend to keep it, Stargazer.”

“How are you going to keep your promise to me if you aren’t even here, huh?” she said in her little voice, crossing her pudgy arms over her chest. “Folkoln said that you won’t be back for weeks!”

“He is just trying to get a rise out of you. I will make it back in time,” I assured her. I leaned forward, propping my forearms on my legs as I brought my hands together. My gaze flicked down to the tiny bones on the table, accompanied by a few black feathers I had plucked from my own wings, then back up to her. “Do you want to see what I’m working on?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over. Her eyes rolled around, emphasizing just how much thought she was giving it and then she cracked a big smile. “Yeah, I do.”

I motioned for her to come around to my side. When she did, I picked her up and set her on my lap. Arms reaching around her, I found the stone slat and showed her the animal I had chiseled into it.

Her small fingers traced the beak, then the head. Looking up to me, she said, “It looks like a bird.”

“Correct, but this is a special type of bird,” I said, flipping the slat over and showing her what was chiseled into the back side.

She traced the images. “It is a man and a woman.”

“It is.” I set the slat down. I picked up one of my feathers by the quill and twirled it in front of her. “I’m going to sew a little bit of myself into this new type of species so that they can travel between realms, just as we do.”

“Wow. That’s neat,” she said, her fingers dancing over top of my feather. “But why are you making them?”

“As the mortal species continues to grow, I won’t be able to keep up collecting the souls all by myself. Which means I’m going to need some help. That’s where these birds will come in. They will collect them for me.”

She was quiet for a moment, and then she asked, “Does that mean you will be around more often?” Wide green eyes, framed in long black lashes, looked up at me. Even though Saphira was young, she was incredibly intelligent for her age. She was always thinking.

“Yes,” I said with a smile. “I will be.”

Her grin widened. “Good, because I miss you when you go away, big brother.”

I tapped her nose. “I miss you when I’m away, too, Stargazer.”

She smiled up at me and then looked back at the feathers and the small bones placed on the table. “So, what are you going to call them?”

“I haven’t really gotten that far,” I replied, setting the feather down.

“Well, since you are giving a bit of yourself to make them, you should name them after you,” she suggested.

I chuckled. “I appreciate the idea, but I think that might be a bit much, even for me.”

“Okay, well, it doesn’t have to be your name, but it can be like it. What about something like . . .” She paused, thinking about it for a moment. “Ravens. It’s like Draevon but different.”

I sat with that for a second.

Nodding my head, I said, “I quite like that. Alright, that’s what we’ll call them.”

“Yay!” she said, swinging her feet excitedly.

I let out a low laugh, giving her a little hug.

Some time passed, and then, “Big brother?”

“Yes?” I asked.

“When I get big enough and have more control over my powers, can we make a species together someday?”

“We can.”

“Yeah, but do you promise?” she said, looking up at me again.

“You and these promises are going to get me in trouble someday.” I laughed softly, before I agreed. “Alright, I promise.”

“Yes!” she exclaimed.

I glanced at the window, finding that night had fallen. “It’s dark out. ”

Those three words were enough to send her scrambling off my lap. Her hand locked around my pointer finger and she began to try to pull me off the stool. “Come on, come on, come on.”

“Alright, alright,” I breathed through a smile, muscles firing as I stood up.

Moments later, we both were lying on our backs on the lush, green grass, looking up at the sky dotted with twinkling stars. The crescent moon was little more than a sliver tonight, painting the rolling hills in a light, glowing silver.

“That’s a lot of bonded mates,” Saphira said, attempting a sad, sad whistle. It sounded more like she was pushing air through her lips. Whistling was not something she had quite mastered yet, but knowing how persistent she was, I had little doubt she would eventually.

“It sure is,” I replied, my one hand on my stomach, the other beside me, fingers playing with a bit of grass.

“Look!” Saphira pointed to a spot in the sky. “There’s the Cat’s Ears, but a star is missing from it! Do you see? Do you see?”

I followed where she was pointing. The Cat’s Ears was a formation of stars that looked exactly how it sounded—like a pair of cat ears. But where the top point of the left ear should be, the star was no longer there.

“It was there last night, wasn’t it?” I asked, knowing that if anyone would know the answer, it would be her.

“Yes! It was! You know what that means. Two bonded mates are going to be made tonight,” she exclaimed, voice chock-full of excitement.

“They will be,” I confirmed, peering up at the vacant spot where the star had been before. I couldn’t help but wonder . . . once the Creator fractured the star in two, would those halves ever meet again?

A strange sensation formed in my chest, one I tried not to think a whole lot about. Because whenever I did, my thoughts tended to get carried away. I would start hoping and wishing and dreaming of the day when I would be reunited with my other half.

I glanced at the moon, wrapped in the protective embrace of her night sky.

“Big brother?” Saphira asked, her hand tapping my head.

“Yes?” I looked up to find her propped up on her elbows, the top half of her face hovering over mine.

“I hope we both find our bonded someday,” she said, small fingers petting my cheeks. “But until then? I’m glad I have you.”

“I’m glad I have you, too, Saph,” I said, my hand falling over top of her little one.

I slammed my fists against the top of the molten casket, roaring at my reflection in anger. Statues, vases, and paintings exploded around me, decimating the chamber in bits of stone and shreds of canvas. Hundred-year-old treasures, priceless pieces from civilizations long forgotten, were destroyed in seconds, and I couldn’t care less.

Because the pain I felt right then, there were no words for it .

I dropped my head into my hands as I leaned over the glass, my world caving in on itself.

And even then, these bastard eyes could not produce a single fucking tear. I could slit every vein in my body open right now and not find a single drop of blood. If I were to carve open my chest, I was certain that all I would find was a frozen, black heart.

What was I missing?

Why couldn’t I—

A hand pressed against my back, scattering the noise in my head like ash on the wind.

I turned, my shoulders quaking when I saw her.

“Sage,” I breathed her name. I stepped into her, my hand—stained with the truth of what I had done—cradled her wet cheek. Her hand fell over mine as she nuzzled into my touch, cloudy blue eyes, rimmed red, locked with mine.

“Why are you crying?” I asked, brushing away her tears with the rough pads of my thumbs—her skin so soft beneath my touch.

“Because—” her hand fell over my heart, “—I could feel this breaking.” She lowered her forehead against my chest, clutching on to my tunic with such desperation. “And I’ve never felt more scared in my life. I thought something was happening to you. I thought you were—” Her voice cracked, and she started to sob.

I took her into my arms, my hand stroking her hair in a bid to try to soothe her. “I’m alright, Little Goddess. I’m alright.”

Was it my pain that she was feeling right now?

Had the barrier that was keeping us apart finally broken and now she was being hit with the brunt of my emotions? On top of her own? She had thought something had happened to me . . . And so, she had come for me.

Because she still cared for me.

I rested my chin against the top of her head as I held her, feeling her wet little tears soak through my shirt, dampening my skin below. My little female wasn’t just shedding a few tears, she was crying buckets—she was crying the tears I was incapable of producing—both mine and hers.

I lifted her from the floor, carrying her bridal style as blackness swept around us, taking her to our bedchamber. I walked over to the settee and tried to set her down, but she refused to unweave her arms from my neck.

“Let go, little love,” I told her softly.

“I cannot,” she said through her tears.

I understood what that was like.

From the day I first saw her, I never wanted to let her go.

“I’ve got you,” I said as I repositioned so that she was sitting in my lap.

She nuzzled into my chest, her body holding firmly to mine, unable to spare a single inch. “I thought I might be losing you,” she whispered.

“You will never lose me. I can promise you that,” I said, rubbing her back.

“Good, because—” She lifted her head, looking up at me with her incredible blue eyes. They were as never-ending as the sea and the sky. I could lose myself to them forever. “I’ve had a lot of time to think since we’ve been apart, and I’ve realized something . . .”

“What?” I asked breathlessly .

“Months ago, I was terrified of coming to the Spirit Realm with you because I feared what might happen if I were to fall for you. I was scared of having my heart shattered again.” Her hands pressed softly against my chest, her fingers weaving into the black fabric. Her gaze fell for a moment before she picked it back up, locking it with mine. “I don’t know if I would have been able to push past that fear if it weren’t for you.” She shared a small smile with me. “You were exactly what I needed, Von. You showed me what it’s like to be loved by someone . . . truly loved.” She paused for a moment. “I’m no longer scared of giving someone my heart, because the pain and sadness that I felt while we were apart showed me that I have already done just that. Truth is . . . you’ve had it for a while now.”

My lungs stitched to my chest, frozen by her admission. Gently, I cupped her face, unable to breathe until she spoke again, for she was my oxygen. My reason for living.

“So . . .” Her fingers brushed over my cheek as she said, “I choose you. As my bonded, my lover, my king. My husband.”

“I have longed to hear those words from you for so very long.” I couldn’t stop the smile from pulling at my lips. “Does this mean you will marry me?”

“It does.” She laughed softly, her eyes glistening with water. She kissed my lips, whispering against them, “From the Three Realms until the next, I claim you as mine.”

Softly, I pressed my forehead against hers, my eyes closing as I vowed to her, “From the Three Realms until the next, Little Goddess.”