“I’d like to believe that. I would. But . . .”
“Do you want to know what Nïx’s advice was concerning you? One sentence: ‘Before Melanthe was this, she was that.’ I figured it out two worlds ago.”
“Tell me.”
“Before you were my enemy, you were my best friend.”
Just as it had centuries ago, her heart ached with yearning.
“You still are,” he told her. “And that is why I want you to come with me.”
He was nothing like Felix—or most other males she’d met.
Thronos was a good man. He was her man.
Hadn’t she wished for the opportunity to give him encouragement? She replayed the yawning loss she’d felt when she’d thought he would succumb. Now, she needed to say something, anything, but her thoughts were tangled.
He must have sensed she was on the ropes. He inched closer to her. “When we were children, we made big plans in that meadow, expecting every happiness to follow. I want to look back one day and say that our plans went awry for only the first five hundred years, but not for the following millennia. Lanthe, if you come with me, I’ll want to wed you. This very day.”
Marry him today? The word cleave had another meaning. To bind.
In a flash, she understood: on this night, she would either separate from Thronos or bind her life to his.
If she went with him, she would be all-in, committed to him, to them. She would do her damnedest to make a future with Thronos.
But could she abide Skye Hall? Could she bring her family around? And survive his?
He released her and moved to the edge of the portal, the threshold of something more, and awaited her.
She swallowed. All-in?
With his eyes gone molten silver, Thronos Talos—a fierce, sensual demon—offered his hand, inviting Lanthe to her idea of hell, to become his bride.
Like a fool in love . . .
She took it.
FORTY-FIVE
It was night in the Skye.
With Thronos leading the way through the portal, he and Lanthe stepped onto a cobblestone path in the Air Territories. He didn’t release her hand.
She’d asked him to go first—after all, she hadn’t had the best run of luck with portal directions. And she had to admit she still might be conflicted about this on some level.
Though she’d never been so high up, her gaze was drawn even higher. The stars were sparkling brilliantly, arcing above them like a diadem. “Wow.”
“That’s how I feel right now.” He squeezed her hand.
She lowered her face to behold just as wondrous a sight: Thronos smiling down at her with starlight reflecting in his eyes.
Just like that, the apprehension she’d felt at crossing that threshold began to fade.
When she could drag her attention away from him, she observed her surroundings with interest. They were in a shallow, sandy vale, with treeless mounts and hills rising up on all sides. White, sun-bleached buildings covered those heights, connected squares or rectangles of various sizes—like one might see on a cliffside along the Mediterranean.
Bordering the structures were cobblestone streets and walkways, all seeming to be straight and narrow, all leading down to this clearing.
“What do you think?” he asked.