So much had changed between us in such a short amount of time. And while I felt grief—surprising and strange—at knowing my old life in the Collis would only be a memory from now on, that I would no longer share the name of my sisters, my mother, my father, I knew that I would forge my own path here on Krynn.

My fate made new.

“May our gods and goddesses bless her as they have blessed us all,” Azur continued, his jaw tightening on the words, but the expression vanished quickly, a smile taking its place. “A year of blessings that I know will continue as we grow the Kaalium into an even greater nation. So please…feast, drink, smoke, dance, and enjoy one another’s company. Our keep is yours tonight. There is much to celebrate.”

Azur stepped down to rising cheers as the musicians started up again. A Kylorr word, one I didn’t recognize, seemed to ripple through the crowd, chanted and following him as he made his way back toward me, his gaze pinned on my own.

“What are they saying?” I asked.

Rivin was the one who replied. “Dalkye.”

“It’s an ancient war cry,” Kalia explained, her voice soft, her eyes speculative as she watched her brother make his way through the crowd, though many Kylorr were approaching him, vying for his attention. “It’s difficult to explain. It’s a…a comfort, I suppose. A word of remembrance and memory of our ancestors but also a word of hope and victory.”

“I see,” I said quietly, watching as Azur got waylaid by yet another pair, an elderly couple from the village, who wore bright smiles on their faces as they greeted their Kyzaire. I watched as my husband grinned at them, charming and patient, though his eyes flickered to mine over their wings.

Rivin was regarding me carefully. I still remembered his kindness when I’d first come to the keep, when Azur had been so cold that he’d felt like a wall of ice. Then his expression shifted when Neela found us, his eyes flashing over the human woman, nostrils flaring.

“Hello, Rivin,” Neela greeted, smiling.

Azur’s friend grunted. I had the impression he was holding his breath, and he inclined his head to us all as he said, “I’m going to go smoke.”

I watched as he faded away, bewildered by the sudden change in him. Especially when I saw him grin at a Kylorr female in a slinky dress who bumped into him as he pushed past.

“He still hates me, I see,” Neela murmured, the words dry even though her smile was bright. “If only I knew what I’d even done in the first place.”

Kalia frowned and was just about to say something when I felt a familiar hand wrap around my wrist.

“Let’s go dance before I get pulled away again,” Azur rasped in to my ear, tugging me out of the diminishing circle of people before I could protest.

“You would rather dance than speak with your guests?” I whispered, finding myself in the circle of his arms among the other couples on the floor.

“Hmmm, I’d rather not be bothered while I admire my wife in this dress,” he countered. I bit my lip to keep from chuckling, still feeling oddly shy from his welcome speech. “I’ll commission Estee to make you about a dozen more.”

I shook my head, afraid to see what the purchase charges had been for the wardrobe he’d already gifted me. “Mine are more than enough. You like my hideous dresses, after all,” I teased. “Because you don’t feel so bad when you tear them to shreds.”

A couple close to us choked on their laughter, and my face flamed, not realizing they’d been listening to our conversation. Azur ducked his head and murmured in my ear, “Careful, wife. All of Laras will know my hunger for you by the end of tonight.”

With that, we began to dance as I avoided the eyes of the couple when they swayed away.

“Myraa and Dy of House Nes,” he murmured, his fangs brushing the sensitive flesh of my ear as I shivered. “Nosy gossips. You’ll do well to watch your tongue around them, though they are useful if you ever need information spread throughout Laras.”

Instead of threading my arms around his neck, I placed them on the broad wall of his chest since it was easier to reach. Our height difference was vast.

I memorized their names and their faces. “Will I ever learn all these people?”

“Yes,” he answered, the word confident. “You forget, wife, I have known them all my life. They are as familiar to me as the walls of this keep. You will learn them with time.”

His words were reassuring, and we settled into a gentle rhythm for a while, Azur infinitely patient while I found my footing, nervous that so many eyes were upon us.

“Kylorr dance like humans,” I commented to distract myself.

“Or maybe humans dance like the Kylorr,” he rasped.

I exhaled, still fighting my grin. “I stand corrected.”

With the exception of Myraa and Dy, the other couples around us kept their distance. Wing-distance as I liked to call it, giving us privacy as we swayed in the crowded ballroom. Azur, naturally, was a wonderful dancer. The bulk of his body did nothing to deter his grace, and he guided me expertly through steps that I fumbled over, unused to the timing of the Kylorr music, which held a dark edge to it, accompanied by a primal beat. Still, I smiled at him, beginning to enjoy myself, especially with the firm press of his hands at my hips and lower back and the tease in his dark eyes as he watched me, promising early retirement up to our rooms.

I sensed another presence step forward. I heard a hush from the onlookers, more whispers, and saw Azur’s gaze flick to someone behind me.

“That was quite the speech, brother,” came the voice. Rich and dark. Quiet but firm.

Azur’s hands left me, and I turned to face the Kylorr male, who stood close, his black wings slightly flared.

The male’s eyes were bright blue. Like faceted glaciers. Or blue salt from the mines in the Collis, I thought. His dark horns curved back alongside the crown of his skull. His black hair was cut short, curling around his sharply pointed ears. His fangs weren’t elongated, but I spied the glimmer of a scar running through his bottom lip.

His features were achingly familiar. The sharp cut of his cheekbones. The intensity of his gaze. The build of his shoulders, the breadth of his chest, and the imposing strength of his thighs.

I knew who he was as certainly as I knew my own husband’s touch, his scent, his voice.

“May I cut in?” the male asked, turning those icy eyes to me.

Kythel.

Chapter 38

Gemma

“Only if she wishes,” Azur said.

Despite Kythel’s cold tone, there wasn’t any rigidity in my husband’s shoulders. He wasn’t threatened by his brother. By his twin. Why would he be? He’d told me they were close, though this was the first time I was meeting him.

“Of course,” I said, finally finding my tongue. Azur handed me off, and Kythel’s palm clasped mine, the strong grip warm and familiar. “I’d be delighted to.”

Kythel’s gaze flickered to the bite mark on my neck, and then he shot his brother an unreadable look. “Subtle,” he drawled, the word tight.

Azur stepped away, holding my eyes, and I watched him go with a flicker of panic. Kythel drew me into the circle of his arms, breaking my gaze.

“Kythel,” I murmured, not able to relax, my spine stiff, though I was proud when I followed his lead when the music started up again. The name was a statement, a fact. Not a question. I kept his eyes, though everything in me wanted to shrink away.

He didn’t smile. Instead, Azur’s twin studied my face. I had the distinct impression that he was memorizing every last freckle, every last line. That he could draw me from memory alone, a perfect likeness, and I nearly squirmed under the scrutiny. I was proud when I didn’t.

Kythel was just as intense as his elder brother. It was like going back in time. To meeting Azur again for the first time when he’d stood next to me in a Nulaxy courthouse, as rigid as a statue.