Page 94 of When the Moon Met the Sun

“Ezra. He’s still alive,” she said, and finally saying it aloud seemed to take a small weight off of her shoulders. “I can still feel our bond, connecting me to him. It’s faded, like he’s still gravely hurt, or far away, but it’s there. I don’t know how, but he’s not dead.”

Yet, was the unspoken word that held in the air.

At that, I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I looked up to Byn, hoping to find answers in his face, but he looked just as stunned as I felt.

“You’re confident?” Byn asked her.

“Yes,” she said simply, her hand unconsciously grazing the spot under her armor where her tattoo lay. If it were showing, the tattoo would reveal a hefty tree with branches of fire.

Byn ran a hand through his hair, contemplating, then nodded.

“We will do everything we can to find him,” he promised her, “but right now, we need to think of our people. We need to regroup, follow the proper protocols, and assess the wounded. Ezra is strong—wherever he is, he’ll be alright. Once we reassess, we’ll start looking for leads. Deal?”

Quinn stared at him for a moment, as though contemplating leaving to find her husband this very second. Finally, she nodded.

“Thank you. For believing me. I know it sounds crazy,” she said softly, rising to her feet.

“Your instincts have never led us astray before. I doubt they will now,” Chess stated, Byn nodding his agreement. I looked hesitantly at Laurence, but his expression was guarded, troubled.

I considered questioning him when I felt Rayven’s shadow energy nearby, heading for us, along with two other new energies I was unfamiliar with.

“We have company,” I said by way of warning.

Byn’s eyebrows furrowed, confused, but then Rayven and two other people—one male and one female—materialized not but ten feet from us, stepping out of the shadows of a tree.

Byn, likely having felt when their physical forms touched the earth, whirled around to face them.

Then, a smile broke out across his face, despite the revelation just revealed moments before.

Fortunately, I had been studying him long enough now to be able to tell when he’s truly happy or not. And right now, it was definitely just for show.

“It’s good to see you again, Prince Callum and Princess Caelia. I heard how you both voted in the South’s favor to send aid. Thank you for that. We’re in your debt,” Byn said, tipping his head to the royals in thanks, then clasping forearms with who I assumed was Prince Callum.

Both the princess and prince reminded me of Drayven—quickly reminding me that his family originates from the Ocrein Isles. The female, Caelia, had curly, black hair that reached her waist, and dark eyes to match—like two voids of light. Callum’s eyes matched his sister’s, but the coils of his hair were closely cropped to his head, and he had just a bit of a beard growing in, like he hadn’t had time to properly shave in a while. The siblings' skin tone was darker than even Rayven’s—something I was unaccustomed to seeing in the North. They reminded me of Maya, from The Haven’s library. Though, unlike her, both were dressed in thick, dark metal armor from head to toe, and had various amounts of blood on them from the battle.

“Well, we couldn’t allow you to haveallthe fun,” Caelia responded with a smirk, placing her hand on her hip.

Callum nudged her in the side with his elbow, then looked back to Byn.

“It was the right thing to do,” he said to Byn, dipping his chin.

“Stay a while, come with us back to Cairnyl. We can find arrangements for your soldiers,” Byn offered.

Callum and Caelia shared a look, then Callum nodded to Byn. “Alright. It’s time we catch up, anyways. And gives us time to figure out why there’s a child of the sky standing with your group.”

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I looked to Byn. He held a hand out to me and met my eyes, where I found silent encouragement waiting.

After taking his hand, I stepped up to his side as he told the siblings, “This is my wife and queen, Aviva of the North.”

Both royals’ eyes went wide as they looked me up and down—from my wounds, to my wings, and finally my eyes.

“Not solely Northern, though, huh?” Caelia said, the tone of her voice rubbing me the wrong way.

“My mother hailed from the South, but my Father was King Horace Heartshire,” I responded, making sure to keep my chin held high.

At that, Caelia’s expression faltered, as though simply hearing my father’s name ignited fear in her.

After that, both royals’ faces appeared much more guarded.

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