Page 150 of The Curse of Golden Blood
"Do you want to come, little dove?"
He licked up the side of my neck, biting the place where the tendon met my shoulder. My whole body jerked, but his grip held me in place.
"Yes," I said. "Please."
His power surged, blue lightning flowing from his hand into my body. It did not hurt. Instead, it amplified everything. Every nerve ending came alive, every sensation magnifiedtenfold. I cried out, my own power responding in kind. Golden light poured from my skin into his, and I felt the exact moment it reached his heart. Felt his pleasure as if it were my own, his desire, his overwhelming love for me.
All I could see were his eyes, all I could hear were his ragged breaths. Nothing else existed beyond this moment, this room, this man who had saved me as many times as I had saved him.
He released my throat and gripped my hips again, taking control. He lifted me easily, his strength making me weightless, and slammed me back down onto his cock. I gasped, my head falling back, hands gripping his shoulders to steady myself.
"Look at me," he commanded.
I did. He never looked more like a warrior than when his power filled him like this, when his eyes burned red and his wings spread wide. I lifted my hand, pressing my palm flat against his chest where his heartbeat thundered beneath my touch.
"Can you feel it?" he whispered. "How much I love you?"
"I can," I breathed. Because I could. I could feel it in the warmth of his touch, the fierce protectiveness in his gaze, the way he'd surrendered himself to me completely. And when my own power bloomed under his skin, filling him with golden fire, I could see it, could see his entire history played out before me in a glowing map of scars and sacrifices and sorrow and joy. "Gods, I can see you. All of you."
I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his neck as emotion hit me like a physical force. "I love you, Zydar. Every part of you."
"Every part of me is yours." He stroked my hair, soothing, anchoring. "Yours alone, for as long as you will have me."
Epilogue: The Day of Light
Zydar
Theseventhdawnofour wedding week broke over Thunder Court in shades of silver and violet, painting the ancient stone palace in colors that seemed pulled from dreams. Stood at the edge of the ceremonial platform, watching the first rays of sunlight catch on the thousands of luminous flowers that had been woven into every surface, every archway, every column. They glowed softly in response to the light, creating an ethereal garden that existed only for these seven days before fading back into myth.
Seven days. The traditional length of a high fae wedding, each day representing one of the sacred elements: earth, water, fire, air, spirit, shadow, and light. We had moved through them all, Miralyte and I, performing the ancient rituals that bound two souls together in ways that went deeper than any mortal marriage could comprehend.
Today was the final day. The day of light. The day we would speak our vows before every high fae court in existence and seal our bond for eternity.
I adjusted the ceremonial robes I wore, deep black silk embroidered with silver lightning that seemed to move across the fabric of its own accord. The weight of it was substantial, layered and formal in a way I rarely tolerated, but tradition demanded certain sacrifices.
At my throat, a torque of twisted silver and obsidian marked me as Lord Consort to the High Sovereign, a title I wore with more pride than I'd ever felt carrying my own crown.
Behind me, I could hear the assembled courts beginning to gather. Hundreds of High Fae, all dressed in their finest court attire.
"Nervous?" Gryven's voice came from beside me, gruff but tinged with something that might have been amusement.
I glanced at him. He wore his formal armor. We'd mended things between us over these past months.
"No," I said simply. "Should I be?"
"Most grooms are." He paused, then added more softly, "I'm glad you found her, my lord. I'm glad you found something worth living for beyond duty and revenge."
Before I could respond, the ceremonial bells began to ring. Deep, resonant tones that vibrated through the very stones of the palace, announcing that the bride was ready. My heart, which had remained steady through centuries of battle, suddenly kicked hard against my ribs.
The crowd fell silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
She appeared at the far end of the platform, and every coherent thought fled my mind.
Miralyte wore a gown that seemed woven from sunlight itself. Gold silk flowed around her like liquid fire, the fabricshifting between solid and translucent with each movement. The bodice was fitted, embroidered with patterns that mimicked the sun's corona.
The sleeves were long and flowing, splitting at the shoulder to reveal the golden marks of her ascension that now decorated her arms like living tattoos.
On her brow sat a crown, but not Ylvena's old circlet. This was something new, something we'd had crafted together. Seven points rising like sun rays, each one set with a gem representing one of the courts, with a brilliant diamond at the center that caught and reflected light like a captured star.
