Chapter 239

Chapter 239
Lyrien's POV

The passage through the realms felt like being pulled through liquid silver—cold, disorienting, and over in seconds. One moment we stood on the grassy lawn of Blackwood Estate, the next we stumbled onto the gleaming crystal pathways of Solakus.

I gasped, my lungs filling with the sweet, impossibly clean air of the divine realm. Every time I crossed between worlds, the shock was the same—like being doused in ice water then wrapped in silk. The colors here were too vibrant, the light too pure, every sensation amplified.

Kael steadied me with a hand on my lower back. "Transition sickness?"

I shook my head. "Just readjusting."

Zephiel stood waiting, his expression impassive. Behind him, silver-robed guards had materialized, their faces hidden behind luminescent masks.

"The witch will be taken to the Divine Council chambers," he announced, gesturing toward Morgravia. "Her crimes will be assessed and punishment determined."

The guards surrounded Morgravia with practiced efficiency. Though still bound by Alaric's magic, something in her posture had changed since our visit to Seren's grave. The defeated slump was gone, replaced by quiet dignity as she was led away.

She paused, turning to meet my gaze. In that moment, I understood her silent message: This isn't over.

"The goddess Virel awaits you in the greeting chamber," Zephiel said. "She requested your immediate presence."

The greeting chamber was exactly as I remembered—walls of living wood that seemed to breathe, floor carpeted with impossibly soft moss, ceiling open to a sky that was both day and night simultaneously.

Virel stood in the center, glowing with soft radiance. "My dear Lyrien," she said, her voice washing over me like warm honey. "Welcome home."

Home. The word struck a dissonant chord. Just hours ago, I'd stood on the soil of my real home, surrounded by my family. Yet here was Virel, genuine in her belief that this realm was where I belonged.

"Thank you, Goddess Virel," I replied with a slight bow.

She took my hands in hers, sending waves of comfort through my body—an effect she couldn't help, her essence designed to nurture.

"The trials resume in three days," she said, her eyes searching mine. "Aetheria has been... anxious for your return."

I recognized the careful phrasing. Virel never criticized her fellow deities directly.

"I'm ready," I said, with more confidence than I felt.

Memories flooded back of my first arrival in Solakus—disoriented, terrified, grieving for Seren. I'd stood in this very chamber, clutching Lorcan's hand so tightly I'd left marks. We'd both been lost then, thrown into a world we'd only heard about in legends.

Now Lorcan was back in the mortal realm while I stood at the threshold of godhood.

"Your chambers have been cleaned," Virel said. "The Moon Goddess wing has been refreshed for your return."

I nodded, suddenly exhausted. "Thank you. I think I need to rest before... everything else."

She smiled knowingly. "Of course. Your companions are welcome to return to their quarters as well."

In the crystal corridor outside, Alaric cleared his throat. "I need to report to the Elven Council about Morgravia," he said formally.

Kael shifted uncomfortably. "I should return to my quarters. There's an ancient fire ritual I need to prepare for tonight. The lunar phase is particularly auspicious for dragon magic."

"Then I guess this is where we split up," I said, trying to ignore the strange tension filling the air. We'd been so united in the mortal realm, but here, our separate roles reasserted themselves.

Alaric bowed slightly. "Until the trials, my destined one."

I watched them walk away in opposite directions, feeling oddly alone despite being back where my destiny awaited. With a sigh, I turned toward the Moon Goddess wing, my footsteps echoing on the crystal floor.

Three days until the trials resumed. Three days to prepare for whatever challenge Aetheria had designed. Three days to figure out how to face Vex again.

Kael's POV

I waited until Lyrien disappeared before changing direction. Instead of heading toward my quarters, I followed Alaric, catching up in three long strides.

"We need to talk," I said quietly.

The elven prince didn't break stride, but his eyes flicked sideways. "About?"

"Lyrien."

That stopped him. He turned to face me, his expression carefully neutral. We'd reached a less trafficked corridor where the crystal walls gave way to living stone.

"What about her?" he asked.

"I know what you're planning," I said bluntly. "The political match, the orchestration of the trials. Aetheria wants her to choose you."

Alaric's expression remained calm. "And this concerns you because...?"

"Because I want her too. And I think Vex does as well, despite everything."

"You're proposing what? A competition?"

I shook my head. "An alliance."

Now I had his full attention. He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "Explain."

"We both know Lyrien isn't ready to choose just one of us," I said, the words burning my throat. "She cares for all three of us in different ways. Fighting will only hurt her."

"So instead...?"

"We share her. For now." The suggestion hung between us, outrageous yet practical. "Until she's ready to make a choice, if she ever is."

Alaric studied me. "You're suggesting a formal triad. Or quartet, if Vex agrees."

"Among dragons, it's an ancient tradition," I explained. "Multiple mates for those of royal blood."

"And this is purely for Lyrien's benefit?" His tone made it clear he didn't believe that.

I laughed harshly. "Fuck no. I want her. I want her so badly it's driving me insane. But I'm not stupid enough to think I can have her exclusively, not now."

My honesty seemed to surprise him. For the first time, Alaric's diplomatic mask slipped.

"I didn't expect this from you," he admitted. "Dragons aren't known for sharing."

"We aren't known for falling in love with goddess heirs either," I retorted. The word 'love' slipped out before I could stop it.

A slight smirk filled Alaric's eyes. "You love her?"

I ran a hand through my hair. "I don't know what I feel. I just know I can't stay away, even though Aetheria herself warned me to keep my distance."

"And yet here you are, proposing we both court her."

"Here I am. So what do you say? Alliance?"

Alaric considered for what felt like eternity. Finally, he nodded once. "I'm willing to consider a temporary arrangement. But Vex is the wildcard."

"I'll talk to him."

"He tried to kill her," Alaric reminded me, his voice hardening.

"You don't understand why he entered the trials," I countered. "Vex is seeking redemption. He's willing to sacrifice his life for her if necessary—to atone for what he did while under shadow influence."

"Pretty words from a murderer."

"I was there when Virel cleansed most of the shadow magic from him. His remorse is genuine. He doesn't expect forgiveness. He only wants to protect her, even if it means watching from afar."

Another silence stretched between us. Finally, Alaric sighed.

"Very well. I won't interfere if he proves himself worthy in the trials. But I'll be watching his every move around her."

I extended my hand in the formal dragon greeting—palm up, fingers slightly curled. After a moment's hesitation, Alaric placed his hand over mine in the elven response.

"For Lyrien," I said.

"For Lyrien," he echoed. "May the Honored Mother forgive us if we're making a terrible mistake."

As I walked away, I wondered if I'd just made the wisest decision of my life or the most foolish. But when I thought of Lyrien—her strength, her vulnerability—I knew I'd risk far more than a goddess's displeasure to keep her in my life.