Anthem of Ashes: Book 9 in the Spellsinger Series

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Anthem of Ashes: Book 9 in the Spellsinger Series Page 8

by Amy Sumida


  “Damn it all,” I whispered just before I pulled him into a tight embrace. “You're a smooth talker, Luci. I hope you find someone who you can share that big heart with. You'll see; it's so much better when you're not alone in love.”

  “For now, this is enough.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucifer and I joined my men in a sitting room full of wide, cloud-like couches warmed by sunlight that poured in through tall, arched windows. Raphael was with them; wings put away so he could relax in an overstuffed armchair. Before the lounging men, a television played an episode of The Walking Dead while they drank bottled beer and ate popcorn by the handful. Stray kernels and empty bottles lay scattered across the thick, white carpet; man litter.

  “You get cable here?” I lifted a brow at Lucifer.

  “No; they are watching something called a digital video disc,” Lucifer explained. “This one is a particularly amusing story; humans are infected by a virus that turns them into flesh-eating monsters after they die and—”

  “Yes; I've seen it,” I cut him off. “It's very popular.”

  “Oh.” He cleared his throat.

  “You're finished?” Declan asked eagerly. “As much as I enjoy the novelty of watching zombies in Heaven, I'm over it.”

  “Yes, I'm done,” I confirmed. “For today.”

  The men groaned, but I knew they weren't surprised. Mastering magic is the same as learning any other skill; it takes time.

  “I'm going to try to work in a couple of hours every other day,” I told them. “And I'll do the same with Shava, alternating the two.”

  “That sounds like a good plan,” Torin said as they all stood. He went to Lucifer and shook his hand. “Thank you for helping her.”

  “That's not something you never have to thank me for,” Lucifer announced and then grinned. “But I'll take it as the olive branch it was intended to be. Thank you for agreeing to my terms.”

  “She seems no worse for wear,” Gage noted. “I'm good with her coming here on her own from now on if the rest of you are.”

  The other men exchanged uneasy glances.

  “I'll be here as well,” Raphael reminded them.

  “That's not all that reassuring,” Slate grumbled. “You're in love with her too.”

  “And neither of us want to see Elaria hurt,” Lucifer said firmly. “She is safe in Heaven; I swear it.”

  Safely smelling ball—

  Do not! Kyanite cut her off. This is no time for your shenanigans.

  Is it wrong that I kinda like him now? RS mused. You know, I think we've got space for one more.

  No; we do not! I snapped. My spaces are all full up.

  RS snickered.

  Ugh; you know what I mean!

  My men muttered awhile to each other but finally agreed.

  “One condition, Elaria,” Darc said. “You make time to get married in between training. Declan and I have waited long enough.”

  “I think I can manage that.” I smiled at him.

  “Then I'll let you handle this on your own while I handle our wedding preparations,” Darcraxis announced.

  “Fair enough,” I agreed and then looked over at Lucifer. “I'll see you the day after tomorrow.”

  “I'm looking forward to it.”

  “I'll walk you out,” Raph hurried to say before one of my men took offense to Lucifer's tone.

  As soon as we were out of earshot, Banning asked, “So, how did it really go?”

  “I nearly froze to death, but Lucifer stoked my Fire and revived me,” I admitted. “After that, it went smoothly.”

  Slate stopped walking to stare at me suspiciously. “How exactly did he stoke your Fire?”

  “He kissed me.”

  Energy collected in the air as the men gathered their fury to strike.

  “It worked before, and I was dying,” I snapped before they could say anything. “My Fire responded, I got warm again, and we ended the kiss. That was the only inappropriate moment and now that I've got the basic control down, I'm certain nothing like that will happen again. I'm sorry for betraying your trust but since it saved my life, I figured you wouldn't be too upset with me.”

  “He's fucking in love—” Slate started.

  “Save it until we get off this planet,” Torin interrupted. “Come on; let's get her away from here.”

  “No.” I stood firm. “We're having it out right now, right here. I'm tired of arguing about this. Yeah; he loves me. I talked to him about it. But he also happens to have a very enlightened view of love and loss. He's happy that I've opened his heart to the emotion, and he's hopeful that he can now find someone else who might actually return his feelings. He's not the Devil anymore, okay? He's a good man. I literally tore all of the evil out of him.”

  “Not all of it, little bird,” Torin said gently. “If you had, he never could have treated that woman, Delilah, as he did. That was cruel.”

  “Perhaps it was a bit ignorant, but I don't think he meant to be cruel,” I protested. “Who doesn't get a little self-centered and bitter when they're healing their heart? This is Lucifer's first time experiencing love, and he didn't even have it reciprocated; he fell for someone he doesn't have a chance with. So, give the guy a break. He's a god, not a normal man. Things that we think of as basic rules of behavior don't occur to him. They don't even make sense to him. Trust me, I know; I've thought the way he does. In his mind; he told Delilah what he wanted, and she agreed to it so for her to call foul after the fact is both baffling and unfair to him. He reacted with cool reason, cold even, but that doesn't make him evil. On top of all of that, I trust him.”

  “Fine,” Slate growled. “But if he tries to abduct you again, I'm—”

  “Tearing off his wings and shoving them up his shiny ass,” I finished for him. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Will everyone please stop cutting me off? It's ruining my tirade,” Slate snarled. Then he stormed off muttering, “Gargoyles need to vent. We don't vent, we break things; bones, usually. Other people's bones. Or glass; glass always makes a satisfying sound when it breaks. But bones are best.”

  The rest of us looked at each other, snickered a bit, and then chased after the grumbling gargoyle.

  Chapter Twelve

  Two weeks later, I was feeling firmly in control of my magic. I would continue with my lessons, but I didn't feel as if I might go up in flames at any moment. A major improvement in my book. It also meant that I could take some time off to get married.

  My father and I stood at the entrance to Alexandrite Castle's throne room. Sara waited calmly before us in her purple dress. Well, technically it was an alexandrite dress; the purple shade shifted from amethyst to sapphire. The wedding colors had been chosen to match my groom's jewel; the stone his magic aligned with.

  The enormous room beyond was full to bursting with Shining Ones. I'd had a discussion with my grooms over whether we should invite all of the Jewel Nobility to every wedding. It seemed excessive to me, but they had protested, saying that Shining Ones loved any excuse for a party. When you live as long as they do, you need something to look forward to; something to break the monotony. Still, there are a lot of Jewel Kingdoms, and every monarch would need to bring an entourage. That was just too many guests for my taste.

  First, we came up with the idea to invite our allies—those monarchs who had stayed loyal to us from the beginning—to every wedding and then the rest of the monarchs would be invited to the ceremony that was being held closest to their own kingdoms. I thought that was a splendid solution except for one teensy-weensy problem; Onyx, Alexandrite, and Kyanite—the three kingdoms I'd be getting married in—were right next to each other; Onyx to the left of Alexandrite with Kyanite below and to the right of it. So, we ended up dividing the Jewel Kingdoms into thirds and parceled out the Royals.

  A third of the Jewel Monarchs is still a lot of shining ones. As I mentioned earlier, each monarch, or pair of royals, had to bring a retinue. At least most of their attendants were waiti
ng outside the castle for the celebration that would follow. Declan had decided to host the reception under massive tents instead of within the castle. But the ceremony itself would be here, in the throne room. To reach the dais at the end of the aisle, where my fiance waited, I had to walk through a horde of shining ones with a few of my friends and family sprinkled through.

  Correction; one friend with his date, my mother, and my men. I don't have a lot of friends that I keep in contact with, but those I do have are amazing. I've learned to treasure the lasting friendships I make and put all of my friendship-efforts into maintaining those few relationships. So, Cerberus was there with his girlfriend Freya, and Sara served as my Maid of Honor again. Sara would have to play that part once more when I married Darc, but she loved it. I think she got a kick out of standing up there with me, maid of honor to a queen, when she had started as my maid. She also got to smirk at the courtiers who were horrified by her status elevation. I admit that made me smirk as well.

  Anyway, those were my only close friends who were there; the Witches and the rest of my family—Spellsinger, Sirens, and Gods—had attended my wedding to Banning in Kansas, and I'd let them off the hook for my future nuptials. Sitting through one ceremony was enough of a show of support; I didn't want to torture them with three more. But my parents were attending every ceremony, Cerberus actually got a kick out of watching me get married numerous times, and my other men were required to attend; they sat beside my mother in the front row. A part of me still found my life to be a bit surreal; two husbands, a fiance, a mate, and a boyfriend all watching me get married to another man.

  Soft music began to play, and Sara sashayed up the aisle like a pro. I was getting to be an expert at this as well. It was my third wedding this year, and I wasn't done yet. I still had to marry Darcraxis. As soon as Sara made it to the dais, the music shifted into the wedding march, and the guests got to their feet.

  “You sure about this?” My father teased me.

  “Shut up; you love Declan.”

  “He's all right.” My dad gave a sardonic smile and settled his suit with a shrug of his shoulders.

  We began our journey down the aisle. On this, my third trip, I'd finally begun to see the purpose of the slow march. It gave a woman time to contemplate the enormity of what she was doing; to take a good long look at the man she was binding herself to, and vice versa. I enjoyed every second of my staring contest with Declan; there were no jitters or hesitation during my walk. I wanted to marry that man with every ounce of my being. And, for his part, Declan looked just as joyous to be joining his life to mine. My groom stood proudly on the dais, the thrones pushed back behind him to make room for the wedding party. There wasn't a large group up there; just Declan, the officiant, Sara, and Declan's best man, Count Ardan, who is not only the castle steward but also Declan's oldest friend.

  Declan is old-school Sidhe. He's excessive in everything he does; from war to love. Extravagant is too mild a word for him. The throne room had become a perfect example of this. Draped with lengths of shimmering, alexandrite silk, adorned with massive arrangements of flowers held by statues of mermaids and sylphs, and lit by glittering orbs that bobbed over the assemblage, there wasn't a place to rest your eyes that wasn't stunning. It was a sensory overload of sight, smells, and sounds. But I could barely appreciate any of it because the man himself was more glorious than anything or anyone else in the room.

  Declan's deep auburn hair was swept back beneath his gold and alexandrite crown; creating a gleaming frame for his exotically regal face. His eyes, so similar to mine, could shift from deep blue to purple. Usually, they were somewhere in between those two colors but today, they leaned toward amethyst; a clear indication that Declan was experiencing a softer emotion. Those amazing eyes practically glowed as he watched me walk toward him and his lush lips curved up into a blissful smile. A layered tunic of raw silk and velvet, done in shades of white, hinted at the muscles hidden beneath, and white leather pants, tucked into knee-high boots, showed off his lean legs. Over that, a cream tapestry cloak hung from a pair of golden brooches on his shoulders, its thick, fur trim adding bulk to his sleek, Sidhe build. On another man, all that white might have looked too feminine but on Declan, it became chivalrous; kingly. He looked like a fantasy come to life.

  After my father helped me up the dais, Sara subtly shifted my train to fall in an elegant swirl down the steps and then took my bouquet. I nodded my thanks to her before my father ritually placed my hand in Declan's. He nodded to my groom with a stern look—take care of my daughter, you deviant—and then left us to join my mother.

  “Thank you all for being here to witness this joyous and momentous occasion,” the officiant began.

  I'd met our wedding officiant the day before. Malachi is a rose quartz count in Declan's court. Rose quartz provides its aligned shining ones with love magic, which makes them coveted officiants for marriage ceremonies.

  “Momentous mainly because our notorious, bachelor king has finally been caught,” Malachi went on, smiling at the light laughter that inspired. “And not by an alexandrite queen either, but by the lovely Queen of Kyanite. Tír na nÓg is changing, and this marriage is proof of it. I'm honored to serve as officiant today and unite this illustrious couple.” He paused to bow to Declan and then to me. “His Majesty has decided to recite his own vows. King Declan, if you will unveil your bride and make those vows to her now?”

  Declan lifted my veil and moved it back, over my kyanite crown; revealing my annoyed expression. He chuckled softly at my irritation. Declan hadn't warned me that we were reciting our own vows and now, I had to come up with something on the fly.

  “I wanted you to be utterly honest with me,” Declan whispered. “Just speak from the heart.”

  “Fine, but you can't blame me for what you get,” I muttered.

  “Fair enough.” Declan laughed again before he launched into his prepared vows. “Elaria, we first met during a war, and that was an accurate augury for our relationship. I've had to fight for you and beside you from day one. I used every speck of sensual skill I possess to win you and every piece of my magic to defend you, but none of that was enough. You wouldn't be swayed by romance or displays of strength; you required truth. You demanded real emotion. You'd settle for nothing less. And in my pursuit of you, I found that I would be satisfied with nothing but the same from you. And you gave it to me; everything you are and everything you have been. But now, my love, I demand more. I want your future; all that you will ever be. In exchange for such a valuable gift, I offer you all that I am; yesterday, today, and every tomorrow. No holding back; not ever. My truth for your truth. I swear that I will love you and only you in this way for all of time. Kill me and resurrect me; I shall return as your man.”

  The silence that followed Declan's declaration was complete. I could hear my heart beating. It did so wildly; amazed that I had the humbling and awe-inspiring love of this man. A few sighs penetrated the quiet, and I knew that I wasn't the only one amazed by Declan.

  “If you will—” Malachi had to pause to clear his throat. “If it pleases you, Your Majesty, please place the ring on your bride's finger and repeat after me; May this ring serve as a symbol of my love for you and our devotion to each other.”

  “May this ring serve as a symbol of my love for you and our devotion to each other,” Declan repeated in a strong voice as he slid a slim purple band onto my ring finger, above the bands of crimson and black that had been placed there by Banning and Torin.

  “Now, Queen Elaria, you may speak your vows to King Declan,” Malachi directed.

  “Great,” I grumbled.

  The entire assemblage laughed. Declan would be a hard act to follow. The sound of a hooting hellhound lifted above all the others. My bestie also knew that I wasn't the greatest at coming up with pretty words on the fly. And here was the reason he wanted to attend all my weddings.

  “Declan”—I took his hand and stared at him sincerely—“when we were first met, I
thought you were a gloriously handsome... pervert.”

  More laughter came at that; my father's deep booming guffaw joining Cer's. Dad had shared my opinion. In fact, he had used the word as a nickname for Declan for awhile there. But Declan didn't bristle. He chuckled along with the gathering; he had no delusions of himself.

 

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