Page 27 of Fading Sun

I’ve only known him for a few days. Yes, they were a few very intense days, but there’s no knowing what he’s hiding.

I can’t let myself grow soft to him because of the stupid crush I have on him.

Maybe that’s what the wind’s been trying to tell me all along.

Maybe. Maybe not. But right now, my magic’s straining to hold onto the vision of my sisters for much longer.

So, I pull back, the image of them and the others fading into a dull, rusty stain of dried blood on the porcelain surface. And, as I stare at it, I feel a sudden burst of gratitude toward Tristan. He’s looking out for Willow. He cares about her. Zara does, too.

They won’t let anything happen to her. They won’t let her kill herself in the pursuit of an eternity of power.

What’s the point of seeking immortality if it kills you in the process?

There is none. And they need Willow alive if they’re going to succeed.

She’s going to be okay. Zara and Tristan will protect her.

I won’t allow myself to believe anything else.

And until I figure out how to stop the wind’s whispers, I need to make sure that when I’m around Blaze, someone else is always there with us.

Someone who will stop me from losing my mind to the wind, turning on him, and killing him.

Amber

All is quiet inside the secluded garden of Central Park’s Belvedere Castle, and I shift uneasily on the stone bench, trying not to stare at Damien.

He’s standing a few feet away, his posture rigid, gazing into nothingness.

It reminds me of the trance Morgan went into while we were chatting on the roof. I keep telling myself she’s just tired, recovering from her journey in the mystical realm. But something isn’t right.

Even though I’ve only known her for a few weeks, I’ve never seen her like that.

I considered talking to Damien about it on our walk through the park, but I decided against it. He’s been through enough lately with Viktor. I don’t want him to worry about Morgan on top of everything else.

He’s also not exactly open to talking to me right now, which makes the decision easy for me.

So I take a deep breath and gaze around the garden, with its creeping ivy and the scent of damp earth. It’s a strange sort of magic that’s about to unfold here, at two in the morning, when the park’s gates lock and the mystical realm seeps through. I’ve heard about it from Damien and the other vampires, but seeing it is going to be different from anything they could ever describe.

Hopefully, it won’t be as creepy as when Grand Central Station transformed into the start of the Minotaur’s Labyrinth.

Damien’s so still that he might as well be a statue in the garden. And, not for the first time since meeting him, I think about how this beautiful man—this vampire king—might someday be my husband.

Given the way it started between us, I can’t believe I’ve had a single moment when I’ve contemplated saying yes.

But for the past few hours, the possibility of walking down an aisle and exchanging vows with him has felt more real than ever. And while I hope Lysandra will give us another option, I need to prepare for anything.

“If we go through with this marriage, what happens if we decide to end it?” I ask, since we don’t have much time until the fae world takes over, and I feel a sudden burning need to know the answer.

Damien turns to look at me, his posture rigid, the moonlight highlighting the beautifully strong features of his face.

“If we marry and decide to part ways, the consequences are severe,” he says. “Not just for you, but for both of us.”

I swallow, the weight of his words settling like a stone in my stomach. “Severe how?”

“Our laws are ancient and unforgiving,” he says. “A vampire who abandons their spouse is seen not just as unfaithful to their vows, but as a betrayer of their clan. You would be branded as untrustworthy and ostracized. Not just by our clan, but by all of them.”

“So, I’d be alone?” I ask, the harshness of it all making my throat tighten. “Completely?”

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