But his face?—
There were tears in his eyes. Just barely, but they were there. And he was staring at me like he’d never seen me before.
Sound fell away. Light dimmed. The space between us became the whole world.
Only him.
28
Malachi
Only her.
Everything else blurred at the edges—sound muffled, color dulled, like the world had receded to make room for the sight of her.
Now I understood why the purple dress hadn’t worked.
This wasn’t a dress. It was a message.
Kaelith lounged at the head of the ballroom, fingers curled around a goblet of deep red wine, his body draped across his father’s throne. One hand rested lazily on the armrest, the other lifting the glass in slow acknowledgment.
He had seen her, too. And he was smiling.
A loud, shrill laugh rang out from a nearby noblewoman, snapping the tension.
I blinked. Looked back. Aurelia was walking now—toward me—each step measured.
And there, nestled in the braids at the crown of her head, was the pendant. A silver crescent pierced by a downward dagger, sangre miel flowers blooming at the curve.
My eyes drifted to Gabriel. He stood beside her, silent and composed. But when our gazes met, I saw it. The quiet ache. The reverence. The knowing.
I nodded once. Small. But it was enough.
And then Aurelia was in front of me.
Her eyes met mine. And something in my chest—long buried, long restrained—pressed upward.
“Hi,” I said, voice hoarse with everything I couldn’t say.
She didn’t smile. Not fully.
But her hand lifted, brushing her fingers against her braid, against the mark.
My breath caught.
Not because she looked like a goddess reborn. But because she had already bled for those she loved. Because she carried weight that should’ve broken her and still stood. And for the first time since the rebellion, since the banishment, since I was anything but a shadow. Hope had walked into the room.
“Hi…” she replied, soft but steady.
Lysara cleared her throat, a subtle reminder that we weren’t the only ones standing in stunned silence.
I drew in a breath, shifting my gaze to the two beside her. “Lysara. Gabriel,” I said, offering a nod. “Seeing you both together brings back many memories.”
Lysara gave a wry smile. “Let’s just hope this one ends better than the last.”
Santiago made his way over, extending a hand toward Lysara. “Would you honor me with a dance, my lady?” he asked, all charm and mischief.
Lysara arched her brow. “You clean up quite nicely, Santi.”