Page 188 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

“Your real name is what you choose,” he said so sternly I thought I’d made him mad.

“I just meant . . .” I didn’t know what I meant.

“Dianna. Gabby gave it to you, to herself. It’s real to me.” He lifted his hand, tucking back a long stray curl from the side of my face. “And I want it too. It carries a pretty strong legacy. A woman who defied all odds of survival and risked her life to keep that which she loved safe.”

“One who failed,” I added, my eyes beginning to burn.

“When?” He cocked his head. “Gabby lived three . . . no, four times her lifetime and loved every second with you. I had barely crossed over before you ripped me back to the land of the living.”

I snorted and dropped my chin, but he caught it.

“I’d say a way better legacy than mine.”

I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips. His words healed some still broken part of me. It was real, just as Gabby was to me, and he saw and respected it. Gods, I didn’t think I could love him more, but here we were.

I smiled against his lips, and he ran a hand down my back.

“What’s so funny?”

I shrugged. “Samkiel Martinez. It sounds funny.”

“Mhmm.” He shifted to straddle the bench, pulling me between his spread thighs and wrapping me in the warmth of his arms. “It sounds like I am yours, and you are mine.”

Samkiel dipped his head to kiss me again, but a bright light tore through the kitchen, turning night to day. In unison, we jumped to our feet and hurried to the windows. Fear laced not just my veins but my mind as well, and I knew I was not the only one who felt it. Had Nismera found us? Her legion? But as we glanced up and watched the trail of light, I knew it was not her. Outside, what looked like a comet raced across the night sky.

“Wow, comets on this planet look so much prettier,” I said, pushing up on my toes to peer around his shoulder.

Samkiel shook his head, and I felt his muscles bunch beneath my hand. “No, not a comet or a star.”

I glanced at his face and saw that he had paled.

“Then what is it?”

“A casmirah. I have only ever read about them. They are rare, mythological creatures that only fly through the sky to herald a new ruler. One flew for my father, and now one flies . . .”

His words trailed off, his eyes darting from me to my hand, and we both stared at my ring.

“Oh.”

SEVENTY-FIVE

ROCCUREM. ONE DAY LATER

The small study was filled with slow music and Miska clapping her hands, but my attention was on the street corner below. A man I’d seen change his fate twelve times finally met his future wife by bumping into her on the corner below.

“They had this small music player that I asked for, and it was only three silver coins,” Miska said. “Can you believe that?”

“Absolutely not,” I responded.

She giggled. “Okay, it was five, but Orym helped.”

Orym shook his head and said, “Miska, can you give us a moment, please?”

Her eyes widened as she looked between us. “Sure, but the music player is yours, Reggie. I always hear you humming at night, so now you have something to sing along with.” Miska smiled once more before heading out and closing the door behind her.

“You hum?” Orym asked.

I merely shrugged. “Not that I am aware of.”

---