“How do you know that who you’re going to replace them with will be a better option?” I ask. “What if we’re just clearing the way for someone worse?”

My father turns to face me. The torchlight casts shadows over his eyes. “I’ve made that mistake once before. It’s not one I’ll make again. You’ve made your desire to know the full plan clear, but I am reminding you again that there is a reason we compartmentalized information, and you are in too deep for us to tell you everything⁠—”

“I’m not⁠—”

He holds up a hand to silence me. “I don’t mean that I don’t trust you. I mean that I don’t want to put you in a situation where you have to compromise the plan to win her over. It’s best if you know less for now.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

He places a hand on my shoulder. “I know you think that now. But once that blessing comes into place, you might be less certain. I know that the real driving force behind you all these years has been the fire of revenge. I worry what you’ll do without it to keep you going. I worry you’ll keep burning even once this fight is won.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and breathe out slowly, watching the cloud of vapor dissipate.

I wish I could say that he’s wrong, but sometimes I feel like I’m made of nothing but that churning need for revenge. The ability to put rage into action—to rebuild and reinvent myself into someone who can settle this score by any means necessary—I have only been able to do that by ignoring what it took to get here.

My father turns his face, and in the torchlight, he looks older than ever. “Sometimes I feel like I lost both of you that day. Holly was gone and you came back as someone else, with an extra weight on you that you’ve never been able to lay down. I pray to the Divine you’ll be lighter when this is over. I miss my son.”

He squeezes my shoulder, and I want to reassure him so badly. But deep down, I know that I’m in this mess too deep already, and with tonight’s attack, I don’t have the luxury of time to worry about my soul and what this fight might cost me.

OceanofPDF.com

24HARLOW

Weddings in Lunameade are always bright and shining, with huge floral garlands and boisterous music, but in Mountain Haven, the only light in the room comes from a few flickering candles.

This is partially my fault. Wedding ceremonies both in Lunameade and here at the fort mimic tales of the Divine. I chose the love story of Asher and Stellaria, which is a story of darkness.

I thought Henry would be charmed by the callback to the night we met. I also thought it would remind him that our first interaction was me trying to kill him, in case either of us forgets that this marriage is just a means to an end.

I’d hoped the darkness would feel comforting, but it’s done nothing to ease my nerves.

In the stories passed down through generations, the Divine of Malice, Polm, didn’t like that his daughter, Stellaria, was losing focus in her celestial duties as the Divine of Stars, choosing instead to spend her nights with the Divine of Endings. Polm captured Asher and stole him away.

Polm thought Stellaria, ever the dutiful daughter, would take the reminder and go back to work. He thought the love affair was something temporary since an eternity of existence meant most of the Divine weren’t prone to attachments. He didn’t realize that Asher and Stellaria had bound themselves together in the Divine approximation of marriage.

Stellaria didn’t go back to her duties. For three full days, she blotted out the stars and sun and moon. She turned the entire world into the deepest, darkest night and went to reclaim Asher.

Now, a room of important Mountain Haven families waits for me to claim and promise myself to a man I can’t stand, before I’m meant to feast and fuck in front of them. I knew this would be awkward, but I didn’t think about the fact that all of the groom’s guests wear black masks to show their support for him, while the only person here for me is Gaven. He stands stiffly at the back of the room—the only silver mask shimmering in a sea of matte black.

He’s not even staying for the ceremony. Even though I’m pretty sure nothing scandalous will happen during the vows and blessing portion, I’m not taking any chances. Plus, I figured tonight’s festivities would be his best chance to poke around the rest of Havenwood House with minimal disruption.

I hadn’t counted on how unnerving it would be to look out and not see one friendly face. I suppose it will at least make the consummation ritual less awkward if I can’t recognize every single face in the crowd.

The collective weight of every eye in the room slides over the fine silver silk of my dress and its barely wedding-appropriate cut. The thin straps cross on my back where the fabric drapes just above my scar. The silk is so fine and the neckline dips between my breasts enough that I couldn’t wear any undergarments.

It’s a marvel they have access to such delicate fabrics in this remote fort. Generally, they seem focused on necessities only. But the fact that I arrived to a closet full of dresses, furs, and coats—all designed according to Henry’s tastes and preferences—makes me wonder if that’s a front.

I’d always been taught that Mountain Haven was isolated—that the only way out was through the front gates. But, being here, I wonder if they’re not as isolated as they seem.

For all their talk of needing crops, they seem remarkably well-provisioned. Every meal I’ve had includes fresh fruit and vegetables, and while I know there are some plots on the lower levels of the fort, and nothing is ever wasted, it’s still more variety than I’d expect them to be able to provide.

My stomach dips as Henry’s mother, Evangeline, hands me a candlestick. I shouldn’t be nervous. This part is easy enough. I nod to her, and the crowd stands.

She walks down the aisle ahead of me. “The night comes swiftly. The daughter of wrath. She’s here to claim her love.”

I wait for Evangeline to take her seat at the front of the room. All the candles in the room, except the one in my hand, gutter out at once.

The wax dribbles down the side of the candle, and I try to hold it steady to keep it from dripping on my dress. All I smell is melted beeswax mixed with the delicate floral scent of the Stellarium Blossoms that line my path.

It takes a small eternity to walk down the short aisle. This is just the first part of the three-part ceremony. First, the vows and blessing, then the communion, and finally the consummation. Rationally, I should be most nervous about the public sex, but the biggest point of failure is my ability to be in emotional and spiritual communion with Henry. Sex is one thing, but intimacy is unnatural.

I make it to the front of the crowd, where Henry sits in a chair with his father, Philip, standing over him.

Philip meets my eye. “You shouldn’t be here, daughter. This tantrum must end. Go back to the sky and do your job.” He projects his loud, steady voice so that everyone in the room can hear him.

“You have something of mine.” I’m relieved that my voice doesn’t betray my nerves.

Philip crosses his arms. “He’s mine now. He’s agreed to stay.”

I don’t feel particularly connected to Stellaria, but the stories of her always make me think of Aidia. I tilt my chin up and try to summon my sister’s defiance. “You cannot claim him. He is mine as I am his. We are bound by spirit and veil and blood. You cannot hold what doesn’t belong to you. I am the darkness at the end of the world. You have no power over me and mine.”

I reach for Henry’s hand and draw him to his feet.

“Praise the Divine,” Henry says.

All at once, the candles in the room burst back into flames, bathing the space in golden light.