Page 222 of Sunsplitter

“Don’t worry, you won’t be leading later. Where it matters.”

A huff. “We’ll see.”

Hand-in-hand, they approached a large double door. A murmur of voices drifted from the other side. Fi gathered her nerves.

They entered the ballroom, the largest chamber in the capitol building. The space was built to impress: metallic copper paneling gleamed starburst patterns across the walls and framed each tall window, a floor of polished hardwood, ceiling painted with starry sky and aurora. For the occasion, strings of orb lights hung overhead like a thousand fireflies. Thick splays of aromatic evergreen draped every pillar, interwoven with snowy white flowers.

The crowd was, frankly, absurd.

Kashvi had opened the invitation to the entire city, and it seemedmuchof the city had filled the massive room. The din of conversation was thunderous.

Then a ripple of quiet, as Fi and Antal appeared. The couple walked forward together.

Fionamara Kolbeck had grown up in the shadow of daeyari teeth.

As a child, she’d been pledged to Verne like prized cattle, helpless to do anything but flee into the Winter forest. Lastyear, she’d been dragged to Antal’s shrine like a lame hare, snared into a fight that had felt impossibly bigger than her.

Now, she stood as tall as the immortal on her arm, Void ether woven into her skin, not a shred of fear left in her heart.

The crowd parted to let them pass. Most weddings, Fi imagined, didn’t draw so many odd looks, guests craning their necks in curiosity and awe, the citizens of Thomaskweld watching their Lord Daeyari hand-in-hand with a mortal. They stared at Fi, this human perfectly at ease beside a beast—at her eye glowing silver with captured immortality.

When she’d first stepped into this role, Fi hadn’t been sure what she was. A piece that didn’t fit their worlds. An oddity.

Now, she wore her mantles with pride. Voidwalker. Sunsplitter. Something new entirely.

Antal led her onto a raised dais in the center of the room. There, she caught sight of more red eyes. A contingent of daeyari stood separate from the human guests. Of course there was Ixli, Syvr, Yme, all beaming from the front row. But also Qirza, wearing a magnanimous grin and a kickass silver cape. A dozen more territory lords and council members milled behind, drawn by curiosity to see a daeyari and human bonded. Antal had turned none of them away.

The crowd fell silent as Fi and Antal faced each other on the dais.

Merciless Void, he was a stunning creature. A snare Fi had never stood a chance of escaping, yet now, his lidded gaze stoked her with a new kind of heat, a warmth even endless Winter couldn’t quench.

She raised a small glass capsule, pressed between two fingers. Antal gripped the capsule with her, clawed fingers filling the spaces between hers. As she spoke, her eyes never left his.

“Antal, Lord Daeyari of Thomaskweld. I vow, before all whobear witness today, to give you my heart, my love, my life. From now, until the Void takes me.”

A smirk curved Antal’s mouth. He held out a second glass capsule, and they each took it in their other hand, fingers interwoven.

“Fionamara Kolbeck, esteemed Void smuggler. Collector of antlers.”

Fi scrunched her mouth. Ok. She hadn’t realized they were doingthosekinds of titles.

“I vow, before all who bear witness today, to give you my heart” —lower, with the tiniest shrug—“what I have of one, at least.”

She resisted the urge to pinch him.

“My love,” he continued. “My life. From now, until the Void takes me.” Again, lower, just for her, “Not that the Void has ever stopped you.”

Fi maintained her glower, but secretly preened at the addendum.

Vows complete, she Shaped a current down her arms, feeding energy into both capsules. Antal replied with his own current, containers mixed with silver and crimson, swirling as one.

They each took a capsule. Arms wove together as they slipped their energy-filled vials onto silver chains, Fi fastening one around Antal’s neck. His knuckles brushed fondly against her throat as he fastened hers.

“Ezria,” he whispered, and she could listen to him call her that a thousand times.

“Ezeri,” Fi purred back, a word he’d never taught her—but Void, it had been worth begging Syvr for the lesson, just to see the stunned look on Antal’s face, the way his eyes burned with ravenous intent.

She laughed and kissed him, slow to savor the moment, thecheers of the crowd a distant background as his arms twined around her waist, and his mouth claimed her as his own.