Page 281 of The Ascended
My legs gave out. I crumpled to the stone floor.
Footsteps circled my fallen form, unhurried andconfident.
"Your timing is impeccable as always," Moros said, his voice laced with dark amusement.
A silken voice answered, sweet as honey and twice as deadly. "Forgive my delay, Master. The son required more... attention than anticipated."
A figure moved into my field of vision, kneeling gracefully before me with a smile of perfect malice.
Elysia.
Chapter 65
Xül
The celebration suffocatedme with its gilded pretense. Crystal chandeliers cast fractures of light across faces that had existed for centuries, each smile as hollow as the next. Other Legends moved through the crowd like peacocks, drunk and disorderly, while members of the twelve watched on with barely concealed amusement.
I stood near one of the towering windows, nursing a glass of wine I had no intention of drinking. Through the window, Sundralis sprawled in all its obscene grandeur. It was a revolting place in every sense of the word.
Power from the Forging still lingered in the air, wafting like a current through the room.
But especially through her.
My eyes found her easily in the masses. Her beauty had always been enough to destroy me. But seeing her now, I was practically rioting to be near her. Trembling in the attempt to not pull her back to Draknavor.
Lingering affects from what I’d done?No. Not based on the way the eyes around her were gawking.
The transformation had refined her into something breathlessly lethal. That dark hair I'd tangled my fingers in just hours ago was longer now. It cascaded past her shoulders, a waterfall of shadow that nearly reached her waist. The mortal softness had been carved away. That square jaw I'd traced with my thumb was now a blade's edge, defiant and sharp. Stardust clung to the air behind her, suspended motes of light that refused to fall. Each step left a glittering path that lingered for heartbeats before dissolving—her power so fresh, so uncontrolled that it leaked from her very presence.
Then there were her eyes. Gold had replaced blue. They were feline now, predatory, shrouded by thick lashes.
The freckles I'd memorized, mapped with my mouth in the darkness—even those had transformed. Now they were glittering dust scattered across her skin, making her shimmer with each movement. Each mark a constellation I wanted to trace again, to see if they still tasted of mortality or if divinity had claimed even that.
She was devastating.
"There you are."
That voice interrupted the fantasy my mind was weaving together.
Nyvora materialized at my side, her approach silent as a hunting cat. "I was beginning to think you'd abandoned the celebration entirely."
I didn't turn. "Merely taking a moment."
"Of course." She positioned herself beside me, close enough that her sleeve brushed mine. The contact was deliberate, calculated. Everything with Nyvora was calculated. "The Forging can be overwhelming to witness. All that raw power, those transformations..."
The words dripped honey, but I heard the hemlock beneath.
"The ceremony is always noteworthy," I replied, keeping my voice neutral.
"Indeed." Her fingers found my arm, the touch deceptively gentle. "Your father and I had the most illuminating conversation earlier. About the importance of... proper timing."
I finally looked at her. Nyvora was undeniably beautiful—all sharp cheekbones and a predator’s smile, her gown shimmering between deep green and gold like scales in sunlight. But her eyes held that familiar coldness.
"I'm certain he had much to say."
Her laugh grated my nerves. "He's quite eager to see certain arrangements finalized. As is my mother. They seem to think we've delayed long enough." Her grip tightened incrementally. "I'm inclined to agree."
"The realm faces numerous challenges at present," I said carefully. "Perhaps patience?—"
