Page 147 of The Curse of Golden Blood
"She visited me," I whispered, my voice still thick with tears. "Pelbie. But it was... different this time. Good, almost."
Zydar's thumb traced along my cheekbone, wiping away the dampness there. "Tell me."
So I did, describing the village steps and the dice game, the impossible loss that had somehow felt like a gift. He listened without judgment, his fingers threading through my hair as I spoke.
"She's right, you know," he said softly when I finished. "About letting go of the guilt."
"I know." I pressed my face against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. "It's just... hard. Four months since I became High Sovereign, and I still feel like I'm drowning half the time."
"Four months is nothing when you are grieving someone you loved." His hand moved to my hair, fingers threading through the tangled strands. "And ruling a court while your heart is still healing? That would test anyone."
I pressed closer to him, letting his warmth chase away the lingering chill of the dream. We were both naked beneath the silk sheets, skin against skin in a way that still made my pulse quicken. Even after months of sharing his bed, of waking up in his arms, the sight of him like this never failed to steal my breath.
"The court expects their sovereign to be strong," I murmured against his throat. "Unshakeable. A goddess who does not weep over mortal friends."
"The court can go fuck themselves if they think a goddess cannot grieve."
That startled a laugh out of me, bright and unexpected in the darkness. "Such language from the Lord of Thunder. What would your subjects think?"
"That their lord speaks the truth." His lips curved in that wicked smile I had grown to love. "Besides, I am not their lord anymore. I gave up my title, remember? I am merely the High Sovereign's consort now."
"Merely?" I arched an eyebrow at him. "Is that what you call yourself?"
"What would you prefer? Your devoted slave? Your willing captive?" His voice dropped to that purr that made heat pool low in my belly. "Your personal plaything?"
"You are terrible," I said, but I was smiling now, the nightmare finally losing its grip on me. "And completely shameless."
"You love it when I am shameless."
"I love many things about you." I traced patterns on his bare chest, marveling at how the black veins were truly gone. No mark remained of the curse that had nearly killed him. "Including the fact that you gave your people a choice."
The transition had not been easy. When I had dissolved the vessel system, when I had restructured everything so that mortals could choose to serve the courts—offering fair wages, regular visits from their families, and the freedom to leave if they wished—chaos had threatened to consume everything.
The fae still needed mortal energy, that ancient symbiosis couldn't simply be undone. But now mortals came willingly, drawn by fair contracts and honest terms rather than stolen through the Tithe. Some of the captured mortals had chosen to return home. Others, surprisingly, had stayed—no longer prisoners but partners in maintaining the delicate balance between our worlds.
But Zydar had stood beside me through it all. Had helped me navigate the political storms, had been the steady voice ofreason when my own emotions threatened to overwhelm my judgment.
"They deserved the choice," he said simply. "All of them. Just as you deserved the choice to refuse this crown."
"I did refuse it. Multiple times."
"And yet you wear it beautifully."
I made a face at him. "I do not wear it to bed."
"No, you wear much more interesting things to bed." His hand skimmed down my side, leaving fire in its wake. "Or sometimes nothing at all, which I prefer."
"Zydar." His name came out breathier than I intended as his touch wandered lower.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
The formal address should have sounded mocking, but there was something in his tone that made it sound almost reverent. As if he truly saw me as the goddess the court believed me to be.
"Do not call me that in bed," I said, shivering as his fingers found sensitive skin. "Here, I am just Mira."
"My little dove," he murmured against my ear. "You are my everything."
His words sent heat spiraling through me, but I was not about to let him win this easily. I pushed against his chest, trying to roll us over so I could straddle him instead. "Sweet words will not distract me from the fact that you are trying to take control."
