Page 151 of Threaded

He cracked a smirk. “Only on you.”

She grinned back at him, huffing a soft laugh. “Funny. But … Andrian—”

“Don’t overthink it, Mariah. It’s time. We both know it. Right?” He blinked down at her, urgency in his eyes.

Her smile turned dazed, and she nodded.Is this really happening?

His answering expression was one of pure delight. “Good. Meet me at the starlight hour, just before dawn, in the western courtyard by the stables. I’ll be waiting for you.” He bent down and met her lips in a gentle kiss, his hand still holding her chin. Hunger stirred in her core, but he pulled back before she could wind her hands into his hair and hold him close. He was grinning down at her again.

“Soon, Mariah. Try to get some sleep; tonight, you truly become a queen.”

He turned to go, but Mariah grabbed his arm before he could leave.

“Andrian, wait,” she said, her voice breathless. “Before you go, can you tell me one thing?”

“Of course. Anything.”

She stared into those tanzanite eyes she’d come to love so much it hurt. “What doesniomean?”

Andrian’s features froze for a moment before they melted into yet another dazzling smile. He reached up and took the hand gripping his bicep, bringing her knuckles to his lips. He whispered a kiss across the back of her hand before dropping it and answering.

“I’ll tell you tonight.”

And then Andrian was gone, and Mariah was left in a daze, her stomach twisting and turning in knots of excitement and another feeling she couldn’t quite place. She finally forced herself to scarf down the now-cold plate of food, step quickly into the shower to rinse herself of the stress of the day, and then curl herself into bed, anxious to sleep off the last few hours before she finally ascended to her birthright.

CHAPTER63

The dream began in darkness. Deep, swirling eddies of darkness twinkling with the barest presence of light in its depths.

Slowly, Mariah began to see that twinkling light form into stars, the thick fog swimming through her mind and her dream parting to reveal … something.

She wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep—or, given her nerves and excitement,howshe’d even managed it. But yet, there she was, caught in the webs of a dream … or at least something akin to one.

She’d dreamed before, usually in abstract images and mere feelings she would hardly ever remember the next day. But there was something different about this dream. She felt a heightened level of consciousness here, a distinct knowledge that while her body might be slumbering, her mind was very much awake.

Slowly, that thing she’d seen deep in the parting shadows began to move, growing larger and larger as it approached her. It glowed with a brilliant silver light, like a star given form, and morphed into a shape the closer it came.

Not a shape.

A person.

Awoman.

She was veiled in silver light, a radiance hiding most of her form from view, but Mariah could just barely make out her feminine shape. That near-blinding light started to recede with each heartbeat, and her features were slowly revealed.

The woman had dark skin, a rich ebony contrasting with the silver-white of her hair, the strands crafted from spun starlight. She wore a stunning, flowing gown of silver gossamer, the material floating around her and weaving with the silver light shrouding her like a halo. Small animal bones on her shoulders pinned the material of her gown together, and more bones were woven into the silver curls of her hair. She was beautiful, ethereal, and very clearlynothuman.

Mariah knew in an instant who she was.

“Zadione,” Mariah breathed, her voice a mere whisper into the dark void surrounding them.

Yet the Goddess of Death heard her all the same. Her face, filled with otherworldly power, gave way to … asmile, warm and vibrant.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mariah Salis. Although, perhaps it is just you meeting me, as I certainly know you.” Something glimmered in the Goddess’s silver eyes, something youthful and wild and so very familiar to Mariah it felt like coming home.

And she knew why. Her mother had told her, in that hidden note in the journal. And she’d come to accept it, to embrace it, those silver threads in her soul now as much a part of her as her own heartbeat.

“I have your magic.” She didn’t know why she said it; she already knew the answer. But being here, in the presence of that immortal being … it made her feel so young, so insignificant, socurious.

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