Page 182 of Glow of the Everflame

“I know about the half-mortal children,” I murmured. “He told me.”

“He did?” His shoulders relaxed, and he shook his head, smirking. “Well, he wouldn’t tellthatto a complete stranger, would he?”

I snorted softly. “No, just to a skeptical new Queen whose trust he was scrambling to earn.”

“Stop,” he growled. His voice, and his face, went hard as stone. “Don’t act like he’s one of those scheming court pricks. He deserves better than that.”

I didn’t know what to say. Questioning Luther’s motives had become a crutch that I leaned on every time the evidence of his good heart made me look a little too closely at my own. It was easier to deflect rather than confront the truth. And Lutherdiddeserve better than that.

“I’m betrothed,” I said again, less sure than I was before.

Taran sat up beside me. He raked a hand through his dark blonde waves, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and gave me a pained look.

“He’ll wait for you, you know. It’s going to destroy him, but he’ll do it. He’ll sit back, and he’ll watch you marry that mortal. He’ll defend you to the entire realm while you put a crown on that jerk’s head and let him parade around calling himself King for however many decades he has left. And when he dies, Luther’s going to hold you while you mourn. Even if it takes you centuries to move on. And Kindred forbid, if you have children with that man, Luther will be there for them too, as the best uncle they’ve ever had. And when their mortal father is gone, Luther will step up and love them as if they were his own.”

A sharp burning hit my eyes. I squeezed them shut.

“Luther will stand by your side, and he will love you for every single day of it. And he won’t say a word. He’ll spend his entire miserable life protecting your happiness, hoping that someday you finally see him. Not Luther the Prince or the High General or the advisor, buthim.”

I tried to speak, but my throat had gone tight, fusing closed to keep my turmoil hidden as I desperately willed my heart to follow suit.

“And Kindred help me, Queenie, but if you do that to him... I adore you, I thank Blessed Lumnos you came into our lives. I’ll defend you as my Queen, no matter who you marry. But if you put Luther through that...”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” I forced out. “I’m angry with him, but I don’t want to break his heart.”

“Then don’t.”

When I opened my eyes, Taran was scrubbing at his face and staring off into the distance. “He’s done more for me than I could ever repay,” he mumbled to himself, as if fighting some internal debate. “This... this is the least I could do. I have no right to ask this, but... Fortos’s balls, he’ll kill me if he finds out...” He blew out a deep breath. “Fuck it. He would never ask this of you, so I will. I owe him that much.”

Taran swiveled to me. He leaned in close and clasped my face in his hands, forcing our eyes to meet. “Leave him. Leave that stupid mortal who does not deserve you, and be with Luther.”

“Taran...”

“There is something between you two I’ve never seen in any couple before. When you look at each other, it’s like the rest of the world ceases to exist.”

“Taran—”

“At this point, I’m convinced even the Kindred want you together. And it’s clear you want him, too. So stop being a damn coward, Diem, and choose Luther.”

I jolted backward, snatching my chin from his hands. A thousand conflicting reactions were waging a bloody war inside me, and I wasn’t entirely sure which one was going to come out victorious.

“You’re right,” I said finally.

Hope rose sun-bright on his face. “I am?”

“Yes.” I swallowed. “Youdon’thave any right to ask that of me.” And just like that, his hope was dead. “Who I decide to be with is my choice. Not yours, and sure as hell not the Kindred.”

“I know it’s your choice, I only—”

“And I am sogods-damnedsick and tired of hearing the opinions of every person in the realm on who I should and shouldn’t marry.”

“Diem, that’s not what I—”

I stood up, my voice growing louder with each word. “You don’t know what I want. You don’t know me at all, Taran. So stay out of it.”

Taran shot to his feet and glowered at me from his towering height. “You know what? You’re right, too. I thought maybe I did know you, or at least knew the kind of person you are. Clearly, I was wrong.”

“Well, it’s your lucky week,” I said bitterly. “In three days, you’ll be free of me forever. You and Luther both.”

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