For Every Star

For Every Star
Ingrid

“The Goddess’ will is often far more complicated than any of us can guess,” Halit says, blood streaked on her cheek from the arrow she took to the shoulder before fleeing the altar.

Laughter ripples through the temple. I know, from my second march up here, that the healthy hold up the wounded from every side of the battle that just occurred. The battle that shines on the pale white of the bandage covering half of Amval’s face in the moonlight.

Tazi says she’s not sure if his sight will ever come back in that eye, but she’s sure he’ll survive. And, fuck, that’s all that really matters. That’s why I needed to marry him now. Even though he’s wearing a bloody blanket tied around his waist, and I’m wearing a cloak Raven made Altair and Vespera hide under before she shifted to join the fight. Even though my head throbs with the one attack Recai got in before Cirocco tackled him away, before Kaloni grabbed me and declared to all the other approaching soldiers that I was “hers.” Whatever she had planned for me died with her, and I don’t particularly mind that.

Amval squeezes my hands, warm, steady, and simply…him. Just like the fact that none of the people he brought with him into this temple are dead. Some are injured, even severely, but every casualty was on Kaloni’s side. I watched him turn away from me, and I knew. He trusted me enough to save myself while he saved everyone else.

Halit continues, “She is mysterious in Her many—”

“I’m sorry,” I say, “but my wedding has been going on long enough. Can we skip to the good part?”

More laughter.

Amval grins. “As you wish.”

Halit sighs, but I can see a little bit of a smile playing around her lips. “Under the eyes of the Goddess, are you prepared to be united to this man for the rest of your days?”

“For all my days and every star,” I vow, staring into Amval’s one orange-golden eye. “I love you. I don’t want to spend another second apart.”

He laughs, a throaty rumble I can almost feel through our joined hands. “I love you. I have for a long time now.”

“Prince Amval,” Halit says with mock-sternness. “Under the eyes of the Goddess, are you prepared to be united to this woman for the rest of your days?”

“Yes,” he says impatiently. “Can I kiss her while you do the rest of the blessings?”

The laughter and Halit’s semi-grudging agreement fade away as he grabs me and crushes his lips to mine. I kiss him back hungrily, like I could devour him and keep him inside me forever. While we were getting all this ready, I asked about the diagram I found, and he explained everything. Loneliness drove him to draw it.

I am happy to make sure he’s never lonely again.

We only break apart when Amval sways, still unsteady on his feet from all the blood he’s lost.

“You are one,” Halit says simply.

“I love you,” Amval says in my mind almost before she’s finished her sentence.

“Ha!” I spin giddily, like a kid, too excited to stand still like a princess ought to. “I love you, too.”

He watches me with a glowing smile.

“Yuck,” Joli says.

I stick my tongue out at her.

“All right,” Cirocco says. “There is a reception awaiting. Tazi has called enough healers so that we might actually all be able to enjoy it.”

Somehow, he manages to usher all of us out of the temple, into the ballroom. At the door, Liwar and Sibel catch my hands, their faces tearstained but alight.

“We’re so sorry,” Liwar says.

“I should have known.” Sibel shakes her head. “You and Cirocco don’t make any sense together.”

Liwar smacks her arm. “We should have known something was going on with Kaloni. That’s why we’re sorry. And we’d like to apologize by loaning you something nice to wear for the reception.”

“Oh.” I glance at Amval. Cirocco waits by his shoulder, clearly about to demand something similar. All the pressures of life suddenly descend back into place. With Kaloni dead, Amval has no rival for the crown. There’s going to be a coronation and then months of cleaning up what happened here. I’m going to have to be Luna.

That thought maybe isn’t as terrifying as it once was, but it’s too big for tonight, when Amval is still wrapped in bandages, and I can’t let go of him for fear he’ll disappear again.

“Go with them,” he says through the mind-link.

“No,” I reply. “I won’t leave you.”

Amval grins. “Go with them. They’ll leave you alone to bathe. Slip out onto the balcony, and I’ll meet you there.”

“What about the reception?” I glance into the glowing room. Music is playing, and a few of the healthiest guests are spinning across the dance floor.

He raises an eyebrow. “You want to go to a ball with a bunch of diplomats?”

My chest feels like it’s about to burst. “Thanks, Sibel, Liwar. I’d love to clean up and get dressed.”

They lead me away. Conversation wends like a river between them, colors and fabrics and dresses I haven’t even seen yet. No one mentions Kaloni again. I understand. They can’t solve her right now, but they can solve my wedding dress.

Or so they think.

When they usher me into the bathroom, just like Amval suggested they would, I take a moment to write a quick note in lipstick on the mirror thanking them again and promising I haven’t been kidnapped. It’ll have to be good enough because I’ve been away from him for too long. I leave it and sneak out onto the balcony.

Cool night air kisses my skin. Then, a warm, familiar mouth does the same. Amval appears from a pool of shadow and wraps his arms around my waist. I twist in his grasp and claim his lips. It’s taken too long, but he’s here. He’s safe.

“They’ll check eventually,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Do you trust me?”

“Completely.”

He pulls back and points past the balcony, at a low roof that leads to a glowing window. “I’ll keep us from falling.”

Tonight, not even climbing down the palace walls could scare me. I clamber over the railing and onto the tile of the roof. Wind tears at the cloak wrapped around me.

“Is that you?” I ask with a smirk.

He shrugs playfully. My head swims, delirious with victory, drunk with him. I unfasten the clasp of the cloak and let it spiral away into the night, leaving me completely bare. Amval’s eyes darken with want.

I laugh and start across the roof. He chases after me with a low growl. The wind presses in on either side, keeping me balanced like his hands on my waist. I jump, skip, dance across the roof without ever looking down.

When I tumble in through the open window, I find a tiny music room. Dust-covered instruments lean off shelves, and a blanket lies on the floor in the middle.

“Joli told me about it,” he says as he climbs in after me, all his clothes lost to the wind as well. “I wanted to see if—”

I crash into his mouth. Tomorrow, we’ll open this place up and see what we can save. Tomorrow, we’ll fill these halls with music. Tonight, he’s the only instrument I want to play.

Amval’s hands trace the lines of my body like he’s starving, and I am his meal. He plucks, crushes, devours. I laugh into his mouth. Being swallowed whole by my mate, my husband, seems like the sweetest possible reward.

He grabs my thighs and lifts me off the ground and then lowers me to the blanket on the floor. I knot my fingers in his hair and lock my legs so he can’t dream of going any further away. He seems happy to comply, pressing his warm weight down onto me as he licks into my mouth. His cock hardens against my stomach. I groan and roll my hips, wishing for friction a little lower, unwilling to release him to get it. He laughs, teasing and delighted. It feels a little like when we snuck down to the ballroom, like we’re getting away with something. Sneaking around because we can, not because we have to.

On a whim, I try to roll him over, not expecting the iron cage of his arms to so much as shift. But he flips easily with a soft noise of surprise. I pull back, worried.

“Apologies.” He smiles ruefully and taps the bandage on his face—on the side I rolled him to. “I think this will take some getting used to.”

I kiss along the edges of it, far from the heart of the gore. “At least the scar will make you look like the men I’ve always dreamed about. A dashing adventurer.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

His gaze turns thoughtful, and I frown. He is thinking about tomorrow, and I need him right here. I reach between us, position his cock, and sink down onto it.

Euphoria blots out all contemplation on his face. He grabs my hips and drags me deeper. I gasp at the fullness, straining to contain all of him so quickly. But the ache is sweet, perfect for a night like tonight. I roll my hips, not that he needed the invitation. He is already lifting me up to pull me back down again, fucking me on his cock with the sheer strength of his arms alone.

There is nothing but his hands, his mouth, his dick, the hum of laughter and victory on my skin. I lose myself in him happily. And when he starts to fall apart underneath me, it is the look on his face that sends me careening over the edge with my name on his lips.

I crumple onto his chest. Climbing off him right now seems impossible. He is so warm, so alive underneath me. He wraps a lazy arm around me and kisses the side of my head.

“Those adventurers you dreamed about…” he says.

I shake my head. “It was a joke. I know you’re not so good at those.”

“I don’t think it was.” He traces undulating lines up my side. “Lightning Cape is going to need a new leader.”

Tomorrow’s thoughts. They found us, even in here. I want to push them out again, but the easy rhythm of his hands on my skin makes them easier to swallow. He makes them easier to swallow.

“I… might be able to get on board with that,” I say. “Being Luna doesn’t seem quite as horrible with you at my side.”

“I’m glad.” He chuckles. “But that’s not what I want.”

I crane my neck to look up at him in profile. Despite the injuries he’s taken, he looks almost completely relaxed. Something changed while I wasn’t looking. “What do you want?”

“To figure out what I want.” He squeezes me. “Other than you.”

“And your music.”

“Our music.”

The words burn through me, hot and bright. “I started playing the lute because I loved the troubadour’s puffy pants.”

“What?” he asks with another laugh.

“I wouldn’t mind wearing them for a few years,” I say. “Until we’re ready.”

His smile grows like the best kind of crescendos. So slow you almost don’t notice it at first, reaching an explosive apex. He looks like my own personal sun. “I wouldn’t either. A few years of traveling. Making our music. And then, we can lead the way they deserve.”

“We should leave Cirocco in charge,” I say. “He kept me from doing anything stupid in the temple before you arrived.”

“Brilliant.” He kisses me again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I pillow my head on his chest and listen to the percussive thrum of his heartbeat. “For all my days and every star.”