Queen of Stars and Shadows (Dark Fae Guardian #3)

Sarielle

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sarielle

Z yren is unconscious for nearly half an hour, still as a corpse, barely breathing. When he finally opens his eyes, I feel a rush of relief so intense, I feel lightheaded. He blinks his eyes. His gaze takes a while to focus, but finally settles on me.

“Sarielle,” he moans.

A sob makes my body shudder.

Zyren reaches up and wipes a track of tears along my cheek. “Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t…can’t lose you,” I get out between sobs. “Don’t you understand?”

“You’re not going to lose me.” He sits up slowly and pulls me into his arms.

“I’m the worst queen in the world,” I whisper against him,

“No, you’re not,” he says soothingly. “Why would you even say that?”

I turn my face to look up at him. “Because I would trade everything, I would abandon every duty, every responsibility, I would let this palace, all of Aureon, and everyone in it fall if it meant saving you.”

His eyes swim with emotion. “Sarielle, you don’t mean that…”

“I do.”

Zyren stands and pulls me with him. “I think you need some rest before the coronation.”

“Only if you rest, too,” I say.

He looks as if he’s going to argue, but then nods. “As my queen commands.”

We head to the stairwell and travel up, up, up, past the throne room to the very top floor.

“Do you know what’s up here?” I ask as we turn the final spiral of the staircase.

“I don’t,” he admits. “I never spent much time in the palace, since I was always traveling as a guardian.”

The sixth floor does not have a hallway that goes left and right with wings to each side like the lower floors. Only one large, round room. The stairwell comes out behind a narrow wall, along which sits a simple bed. No headboard or posts, just a frame for the mattress. The outer wall of the room has the same arched, open windows as the rest of the palace, but the view from this height is endless, nothing but mountains as far as the eye can see. Set between each archway is a bronze fire pit, and orange-blue flames rise from each. Overhead, a glass dome ceiling reveals clouds and the early morning sun.

“It’s perfect,” I say breathlessly. And I imagine, just for a moment, what it might be like to call this place home, if we survive everything that’s to come. The realm merge. Avonia’s army. And Isthsharyn.

“You first,” Zyren says, pointing to the bed.

I crawl into it, exhaustion suddenly tugging on me like iron chains. Zyren follows, and we’re asleep within moments.

An hour before sunset my ladies in waiting come for me, a much smaller contingent than the ones that were here a month ago.

They help me bathe, something that is sorely needed, and then I am dressed in a gown of deepest purple, just a shade shy of black. They try to pin my hair atop my head but I insist on leaving it down. I do allow a simple necklace, a thick silver chain with an obsidian pendant that hangs above my heart.

We go down to the courtyard. All who remain in Selaye, no more than a hundred citizens all told, are gathered. The warriors are dressed in their finest gear, and the others have donned dresses or colorful tunics. Zyren waits for me on the top of the steps, and he’s changed as well, wearing a dark leather tunic and new boots. He loops his arm through mine, and we move down into the courtyard together.

Xinius is waiting for us in the center of the space. The crowd is parted on either side of him to allow us through. There are no decorations, no pomp or frivolity. The air is quiet, somber. We are here in the place where so many sacrificed their lives not long ago, here at the heart of a realm that is collapsing around us. It should be a joyous occasion, but it is not. We are here to set right the wrongs of the past, to kindle one last flame of hope for the future of Valaron.

When I reach the space where Xinius stands, he gestures for me to kneel.

“Citizens of Selaye, and the Court of Nightmares,” he begins. “You are here to bear witness to the crowning of the Queen of Valaron. The last of her line, sole blood heir of House Otreyas. Savior of the realm, whose magic commands the nightmares and all within these borders.”

Xinius takes a crown from a cushioned pillow held by a woman next to him. It is wrought of black metal and set with black stones; several large ones at the base of each of the five points of the crown, and tiny ones encrusted over the rest of it. It glitters like the midnight sky, like stars and like shadows. When he places it on my head, it feels heavy, and cold.

“I call on the ancestors of House Otreyas and House Lyonian, all who wore this crown before. I call on the magic that has run through Valaron since the dawn of time. I call on the nightmares that share this realm. I call on the power of the moon and sun, light and dark, because all things must have balance in this world.”

I feel a rush around me, and I see flashes of faces, feel the brush of fingertips anointing my forehead. My heart races as my ancestors spin past me, and one in particular pauses before me. A woman with long, silver hair like mine, and eyes that glow the same shade of gold. I know who it is, though how I know, I’m not sure.

“Anarya,” I breathe.

She smiles and nods. The woman who started it all, the woman who fell in love with a nightmare, who changed the bloodline and the magic of our family forever. The start of it all.

And then she is gone, all of them are, just as quickly as they arrived.

“Sarielle Otreyas,” Xinius intones, “do you vow to rule Valaron justly and wisely, with empathy for your citizens and swift vengeance for your enemies? Do you vow to bind yourself to this realm, serving it with all your heart and magic?”

“I do so vow,” I say.

“I crown thee, Sarielle Otreyas, Queen of Nightmares and ruler of all Valaron. With all the powers and sacrifices that come with this title. Rise, queen.”

Slowly, I stand and turn to face the crowd behind me. A cheer rises from the people, and a moment later a deafening roar from Astherius as she circles in the sky overhead. Zyren smiles and reaches out to squeeze my hand.

“Let the feast begin!” I call, which earns another cheer from the crowd.

Wine flows and everyone fills their bellies from an enormous buffet set up on the far side of the courtyard. Warrior and cook and blacksmith alike all dine together, no rank or title separating anyone within the city walls. There is music and dancing far into the night, because we all know that this may be the last celebration we ever have. The last song, the last meal, the last embrace with a loved one.

And so it is, after hours of dancing, in the wee hours before dawn, that Zyren and I find ourselves back in our room at the tip-top of the palace.

“Do you feel any different?” Zyren asks me.

I let out a laugh. “Not at all. It still seems so surreal being queen.”

He dusts a soft kiss over my lips. “I enjoyed dancing with you. Was that the first time?”

“No.” I smile. “We danced together when we stayed with the Veyeni. And I got very drunk on sunfire wine, and you had to practically carry me back to our tent.”

Zyren smiles. “That sounds like a good night.” His smile falls. “I wish I remembered.”

I place a finger over his lips. “What’s important is that we have each other now. At least for this final night.”

“Final night? I should hope not,” he says. “While it’s true, we don’t know when Avonia will return, or the demon…”

“I’m talking about the realm merge, Zyren,” I say softly. “I’m doing it tomorrow. I’ve already spoken with Xinius. He’s sent for his fellow sorcerers to assist us in preparing the spell.”

His eyes widen. “Sarielle, no. I told you, we’ll find another way without merging the realms.”

I’d known this conversation was going to be a battle. When Isthsharyn had shown up, she’d interrupted us before we could finish talking about the realm merge. And then we’d been so busy preparing the city, and the coronation…

I take his hands in mine. “What way?” I implore. “There is no other way. Even if we beat Avonia and Isthsharyn both, Valaron is still dying.”

A sharp jerk of his chin, back and forth. “No. We can close all the rifts. The more we close, the more power you’ll get back. It may take some time, but—”

“Time we don’t have,” I say. “You heard Xinius. There are hundreds of rifts. We’ll never find them all before this realm falls. It’s already declining too quickly. I felt three earthquakes just today. Distant, but still…”

“I am your guardian, and I won’t allow it,” he snarls.

“Zyren, don’t be—”

“Remember what you said earlier? That you would let it all crumble to save me? Well, I feel the same way. I am not losing you, Sarielle.” He runs one hand up into my hair, cupping my cheek, his eyes pleading with me. “I may not remember our time before, but even in the short time we’ve had, I know that I love you. Do you hear me? I love you, and you are not sacrificing yourself.”

“That’s exactly what a queen does,” I say softly. “You can’t stop me, and you won’t. Because you know I’m right.”

“You are not right. You are stubborn and headstrong and maddening.”

“I love you, too, you know. No matter what happens, Zyren. I will love you in this life, and I will love you when I am nothing but stardust.”

Zyren’s jaw flexes and he spins and strides away from me. When he reaches the doorway, shadows spinning off of him, he turns again. His storm-colored eyes burn into mine, and then he lets out a growl and stalks toward me.

We collide in a rush of heat and magic and a desperate song of farewell.

Zyren yanks my dress down, ripping it into pretty purple petals that fall to the floor. Then he lifts me and tosses me back onto the bed. But he doesn’t join me there. Instead, he kneels at the side of the bed, grabbing my thighs and pulling me right to the edge. Then he lets out another growl and buries his face between my legs.

A cry rips out of me as his tongue lashes me mercilessly. He is fierce but by no means sloppy. He works with practiced finesse, alternating between entering me and sucking my clit, adding teasing flicks with his tongue here and there. My back arches up off the bed, and my fingers wind into Zyren’s hair. His arms hook underneath my knees, pulling me firmly against him when I writhe with pleasure, bucking up off the bed.

When I start to shake and cry out, Zyren growls, and the vibration sends me spinning over the edge. I break into a million shimmering pieces of sky, of shadow, of magic. I exist as nothing but pleasure for an uncountable length of time. Zyren doesn’t let up until I’m limp and buzzing with heady bliss. Then he kisses his way up my stomach, over my breasts, and finally to my mouth.

He lays down beside me and kisses me slowly, tenderly, as if we have all the time in the world. And I wish that we did. I wish this night could last forever, and the one after that, and the one after that. But we both know that it can’t, and we kiss each other with a hundred goodbyes, a thousand. We kiss each other like each one could be the very last, and we kiss each other so we never, ever forget.

Abruptly, I need more. I need Zyren inside me, need us to be as close as we possibly can be. I roll on top of him, and he moans as I reach down and slide him into me. I rock my hips, taking him even deeper, and this time we both cry out together into the chill night air. One hand presses into the hard planes of his chest as I grind against him, gyrating my hips back and forth. Stars start to spin behind my eyelids, pleasure spiking through me with each roll of my hips.

Zyren grabs my hips with his hands, his fingers digging into me. I move faster, my breath coming out in sharp gasps, each one pushing me closer to the edge once again. When Zyren moves one hand down and rolls his thumb against my clit as I grind forward, I shudder and cry out. Another roll of my hips, and another, Zyren swirling his thumb again and again until the room fades into a fuzzy, sparkling dreamscape. And then my pleasure explodes outward, and Zyren releases with me, crying out and thrusting upward as we finish together.

I roll to the side, collapsing into the bedsheets, feeling boneless, bodiless. “Oh, my love,” Zyren says with a wicked grin, “I am nowhere near done with you.”

Where I’m lying on my side, he presses himself up against the back of me, kissing the backs of my shoulders, up the side of my neck. His hot breath tickles my hair, and he flicks his tongue over my earlobe before teasing it with his teeth. A shudder moves through me, and I feel the length of him harden against me once more. I pivot my face toward him, and he kisses along my jaw before claiming my mouth with his tongue once more. His free hand travels along the curve of my breast, and one fingertip circles over the top of my nipple until it’s hard as a diamond.

Then, slowly, he teases at my entrance. Entering just the tiniest bit before pulling out again. He keeps this up as he continues to skim his finger over my nipple and nibble at my earlobe. My senses are so overloaded, it feels as if I have three distinct stars of pleasure about to supernova. Bliss ripples through me, but he keeps his movements so slow that it just builds and builds and builds…

“Zyren,” I moan. “I can’t—”

“You can’t what?” His voice is so dark, so velvety, so dangerous, that it nearly sends me over the edge all on its own.

I try to speak several times but nothing coherent comes out. Zyren lets out a dark chuckle, and then he slowly slides the length of himself all the way into me. A gasp and a moan rip out of me. He pulls out slowly and then drives in again, harder this time. His teeth move from my ear to my throat, and he bites along the flesh there as he thrusts again. I can feel an enormous wave of black, velvety darkness hovering over me, and I know when it breaks…

“You are my queen, Sarielle,” Zyren growls as he enters me again.

“You are my heart…” Another thrust.

“You are my soul…”

And I am lost as the wave crashes over me, spinning me, crushing me, carrying me. Zyren cries out and joins me as we dissolve together. Our magic crashes around us like a storm inside the tower at the top of the mountain.

Zyren keeps his promise. We stay intertwined the rest of the night, losing ourselves in each other again and again until the first streak of dawn lightens the world. We finally rest then, once day has fully broken. We lay there for a few minutes in silence when it does, just looking at each other, neither of us wanting to say anything. Because we know that this day will change everything.

One way or the other, by midnight the world will be irrevocably different.