Page 124 of Of Realms and Chaos

“Someone sounds jealous. Tell me, has Genevieve not been around lately? She seemed a bit more agreeable when I saw her, perhaps someone else has fucked that uptight attitude out of her.”

After that, the fight seemed to get the slightest bit more serious.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Bellamy

If there was one thing I could always count on Asher to do, it was make a scene.

Nearly the entire training yard was watching her and Henry spar. Their taunting had died out, replaced by grunts of force and aggravation—sometimes even hisses of pain. I watched them on the sidelines, yelling out instructions to both as they went.

“Lift your elbow, Asher!”

“Hold your mental shield, Henry!”

Again and again, they blocked and swung. Asher was fighting smart, dodging as often as she could instead of attempting to block Henry’s powerful swings. She was faster than before but still not as fast as him. When he feigned left and then swung towards her right side, I thought the fight would be done, but Asher was scrappy.

Just as his blade was about to connect with her side, he froze, his face scrunching in pain. Whatever she was doing to his head gave her enough time to slam her elbow into his face, knocking him down. Henry groaned but immediately got back up, light radiating from his hands. No part of Henry would even consider holding back, and he did not as he began throwing beams of light at her. She ducked past one, barely leaning away from another before a third and fourth found their mark in her arm and shoulder. Her leathers sizzled as they burned, but my beautiful creature did not miss a beat.

Cleary aggravated, Asher finally stopped going easy on Henry. I had always told her to never hold back, and now, she did not. She ran at him, snatching one of the daggers strapped to her stomach and attacking him with both it and her sword. Henry did not laugh or brag like he normally would. Instead, he was completely silent, his moves slowing. After another couple of minutes, he stopped blocking her entirely, his body tilting to one side and his eyes rolling to the back of his head. The Sun collapsed to the ground, his body slumping without a word. The crowd fell silent, the screams and cheers that once filled the yard gone now as Asher leisurely walked towards Henry. She got down on her knees, leaning forward until her lips were inches from his ear. His eyes opened in surprise, a desperate gasp leaving his mouth as his chest filled with air.

Offering him a smile and a hand, Asher helped him to his feet, Henry leaning onto her far more than he should. I jogged over to them, pulling his other arm over my shoulder. “What did you do to him?”

“I told him to stop breathing,” she said with a shrug as she smiled from ear to ear. I laughed, leaning up to smack Henry in the cheek. His eyes opened all the way for a moment, then they were half closed again, his head lulling. “He will be fine after he gets some rest. Also, we need to switch rooms.”

Shaking my head at her insanity, I guided us to a set of chairs and tables, taking most of his weight as we set him down. When he was leaning back and groaning about Asher sleeping with one eye open, I crossed my arms and faced her. Dusting off her hands, she blew me a kiss and went to Noe, who had been standing beside me while Asher sparred.

Watching them run to each other, their bodies colliding and laughter splitting the air, left me wondering just how long I would have of this. Of a family to come home to. One that filled my days with laughter and annoyance and love and hope.

My hand went into the pocket of my training leathers, fingers toying with the ring that rarely left my side. Noe grabbed onto Asher’s cheeks, bringing their foreheads together and whispering something to her that left them both nodding and hugging once more.

We were still working on a way to get Nicola and Jasper, who we were quite convinced were both in The Capital and being heavily guarded. But perhaps if we had both of them here too, then maybe Ash would say yes. I could see it. Farai and Jasper on either side of her, walking her down the aisle. Nicola, Noe, and Lian dressed in matching outfits near the altar. Henry, Cyprus, Damon, and Ranbir behind me. I could paint portraits of Luca and Winona, something to make our family whole again. Wrath could hold the rings, though he would probably purposefully bury them in his own shit before letting me marry her.

Adbeel could officiate, and we would write our own vows. I would cover the throne room in sage green and give her a bouquet of Salvia Splendens. Atop her head would be Solei Ayad’s crown, the obsidian sparkling under the Sun magic.

And we would be happy.

“She needs to get that arm fixed,” Ranbir said as he walked up beside me. I had not seen him much since the day we found Luca’s body. Grieving another friend after losing his wife had not been easy, made evident by the deep circles under his eyes. His hair was knotted atop his head, beard now a couple inches off his chin. He wore white, as he always did, the clothes seeming to grow larger on him every day.

Looking back at Ash, I saw that Farai and Lian had walked up to her, the former bringing her in for a hug. His body shook with sobs as he held her, his hands disappearing in her dark curls and his head burrowing into her neck. Everyone around them watched on unabashedly, eavesdropping like pesky flies.

“If you have time to stand, then you have time to train. Get back to work!” I shouted. Every single soldier immediately started rushing away from the small group, the clanking of metal and the pounding of feet once more filling the air. “Nosy little shits.”

Ranbir laughed, a half-hearted version of what once was. Without a second thought, I put my arm around him and patted his shoulder, my five or so extra inches of height making me need to adjust to the stance as we walked. But Ranbir, for all his stoic nature, slumped slightly, as if a weight had been removed rather than added—as if he suddenly felt calmer.

“Somehow, I forgot how bright she shines, even when she does not know it.” Ranbir’s words were soft, but I heard the way he said them, the sound of hope there. “I believe Asher heard me blame her that day we lost Winona. I did not mean it, but my thoughts got away from me. I was angry and scared, and I felt like I was dying with Nona. I do not know how to tell her that I am sorry.”

I stopped, tugging him to a standstill. Placing my hands on both of his shoulders, I stared the Healer in the eye, hoping he understood every word I was about to say.

“Do not ever apologize for how you face loss, Ranbir. I knew Winona for over a century, and I still believe with every fiber of my being that I will never mourn her the way you do. She was brilliant and funny and beautiful and caring. But, more than that, she was your soulmate. Asher knows that. She can feel it. You do not need to say sorry. Just be there for her on the days she wakes up and thinks herself a monster. Remind her not only that you love her but that Winona did too.”

I pulled him in, embracing a male that I had considered a brother for so long. His own wedding had been a beautiful affair, held in our home in Haven. Our safe place. And now it was rotting away, a graveyard of both loved ones and memories. Would I ever be able to say enough to someone grieving such a loss?

You did good. I can feel it within him. He loves you. We all do. Believe in that.

My eyes darted to Asher, seeking out her face upon hearing her voice in my mind. She had her back facing me as she spoke to Lian, who was none the wiser that Asher was also a nosy little shit. Ranbir sighed, pulling away and nodding before gesturing for me to walk on. Side by side we approached the group just as Lian smacked Asher on the arm.

“You rode a dragon? Oh, I hate you. I will never forgive the gods for this.” Curiosity piqued, I forced myself between Asher and Noe, causing the Moon to huff at me. Ranbir smiled at Asher, offering his hand. She took it, wincing as his power flowed through her. As always, he left the scars behind. Her skin had slowly become a tapestry of art made through pain—a map from where she started to where she was now.

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