Page 136 of Of Realms and Chaos

My thoughts were once more claimed by him as he pulled away, quickly backing up with the most ridiculous smile on his face. Perhaps, if I was forced to admit it, I would also call it endearing, handsome, exquisite.

But mostly ridiculous, of course.

He disappeared beneath a puff of black shadows, returning with his hands full of black fabric and red…chains?

“I made a very kind seamstress’s life a nightmare the last two days trying to perfect the idea in my head for this. Keep that in mind before you say anything scathing about it, Princess.”

Rolling my eyes, I stood, walking to him and the garment. When I reached my fingers out to take it, he quickly flipped one of his own hands to smack mine. I gasped, hugging my injury and glaring up at him.

“You left me desperate for the chance to touch you for months, watching as you emerged from that tent in clothes twin to mine and wishing I could have been the one to put them on you. If you think I will miss an opportunity now, then you have lost your mind.” He tilted his head to the side, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow. “Which would be quite a tragic and ironic end for someone with your talents.”

Groaning, I promptly lifted my arms in surrender. He chuckled, gently setting down the outfit he had apparently designed before coming back and teasingly pulling off my clothing. When he had stripped me bare of all but the thin black undergarments that he had jokingly snapped against my skin before gripping my backside, he stood and retrieved my birthday outfit.

Birthday. Such an odd creation. I thought it a bit selfish, though I would not pretend like it was not exciting to have something so special. A day that rejoiced in my birth after a lifetime of being cursed for existing was extraordinary indeed.

Bellamy came back, the smile on his face so broad that it crinkled his eyes and flashed his dimples. Without realizing it, I smiled back, so much joy filling my heart by simply being next to him.

“Black had once been my favorite color, but red felt like family in a way. Like blood—the one thing that is supposed to tie people from birth to death. I thought that by making the colors of Haven black and red, I was taking the broken and dark pieces of the refugee fae and making them whole by bringing them together—morphing us all into a sort of family. We all needed that, and it seemed fitting.” He spoke as he dressed me, not once meeting my eyes. But when he paused, his voice cracking, I looked up to see he was staring down at me with a vulnerable sort of openness on his face. His eyes, so blue they appeared frozen, bore into mine with the intensity of someone who had just seen the stars for the first time.

With a tender grasp on my shoulders, he walked me over to a thin and slightly cracked mirror in the corner. Despite that, I still gasped at my reflection.

“Bellamy, it is beautiful.” There was a hoarseness to my voice, the shake of it portraying all the emotions I could not speak aloud.

“Would it be cliché if I said, ‘Yes, you are’?”

I laughed, looking up at him through the mirror. His smile had gone soft, a sort of melancholy taking over his features. And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, it was because of what the dress represented.

The top was form-fitting, the sheer black fabric showing my torso and hinting at the red that hid away my breasts. Straps sat loosely at the very edge of my shoulders, leaving my arms bare. The bottom half of the dress was solid black and loose, splitting up both sides until it hit my midthigh. A cut like that would surely show my legs as I walked, but it did not seem overtly sexual. Rather, the dress was regal and beautiful—simple in the best way. Bellamy lifted a finger, rotating it. I took that as an order to turn around, so I did.

Somehow, this side of the dress managed to outshine the front. It was backless, the fabric descending my body at the very edges of my sides until it curved to meet at the base of my spine. Seven thin, red chains cascaded down the exposed flesh, connecting the split fabric and hanging lazily to form a sort of U shape. At the center of the top chain, which connected both of my straps, sat three overlapping circles—one black, one silver, and one white. Dangling in the center of the silver circle was a tiny diamond.

“The seven chains represent the seven territories of Eoforhild, and that is our sigil, but the colors—they are that of Haven.” A quiet sob split the air, and I realized with horror that it was my own. For what felt like the thousandth time in the last year, I cried. For the senseless deaths of so many innocents. For all the loss that Bellamy and his Trusted had suffered. For my own pain. Even for the future, which felt as if it just might end in disaster.

“I love it,” I whispered, ripping my gaze from the mirror to face the male before me. My soulmate. The most dazzling and wonderful being, who I knew was my future, no matter how short-lived. “I love you.”

He sucked in a breath of desperate air, his eyes going glassy as he brought his forehead down to mine, his hands gripping my jaw possessively. “I love you, too, beautiful creature.”

***

The festivities were even more ostentatious than I thought they would be, though it helped that we were simultaneously celebrating Star Festival. Strings of sparkling silver garland hung across the space, somehow secured between the mountain, the base, and the sparse trees. Dots of demon light glittered just above the silver, lighting the space and adding to the stars within the sky. The stars that seemed brighter than before, somehow. Tables were littered with treats—pastries, in particular, seemed to be in abundance. Once again, I was reminded just how close of attention Bellamy paid to me, and the realization brought a smile to my face.

A group of musicians sat at the center of the space, playing upbeat melodies and smiling at those dancing around them. It seemed that fashion was individual in Eoforhild; something that I had gathered based on assumption over the months but was proven correct tonight as I bore witness to the demons around me.

Colors and styles varied greatly between them all, showcasing the brilliance of autonomy and freedom. Cyprus caught my attention as he approached me, his eyes devoid of the teasing and joyous light they normally possessed. Bellamy had explained to me that Cyprus and Luca were not together, but the group always knew they would be one day. Like an inevitability—destiny. But Luca’s death had torn that future from Cyprus’s grasp, and the last few weeks had been a bleak and dark time for the whisp.

Now, as he made his way to my side, his blush tunic pairing beautifully with his russet skin, black trousers, and loose brown hair, I saw the sorrow that overflowed from him. My hand reached out as if I were a puppet on strings, eager to help and hold him. He took it with a smile, tugging me into his chest and swinging me around the open dance floor. Twirling us, he managed to maintain his usual swagger while still allowing a vulnerable string of thoughts to teeter into the air, freefalling my way.

I miss him, Ash. I do not know how to go on without him. Before, I thought we had time, that I could relish in the tension and avoid the possibility of ruining a friendship. But now…now, he is gone, and the time is gone with him. How do I exist now?

My breath hitched, and I found my head moving forward to rest on his chest to avoid showing him the emotions that were surely playing across my face. He did not deserve to suffer from anyone else’s sadness. His was more than enough.

You do not just move on. The decades of time I spent avoiding those feelings did me no justice. Moving on was pointless, a façade to allow myself the chance to continue life. But, in the end, it broke me rather than healed me. Sipho was still dead, and I was still a shell of who I was in his presence. Being loved by him was not something I could simply forget. Do not force those shattered pieces of your heart together, because if you lose the fragments too small to see in your rush to repair the damage, then you will never be whole again.

A comfortable quiet settled between us, one of his tears hitting my upturned cheek as we swayed and spun. There was comfort in this understanding, though I still knew much of Cyprus and Ranbir’s losses were my fault. If I could offer them even a semblance of relief, then I would gladly do so. There was no limit to how far I would go for my family.

Family. A term which had once been a skewed reality that I barely survived before morphing into a foreign concept that I convinced myself I would never know. Now, as Cyprus pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head and twirled me in a circle, I understood what family really was.

Family was Nicola’s whispered praise and reassurance. Family was Jasper’s tight embraces and words of wisdom. Family was Farai’s joking tone and firm confidence in me. Family was Henry’s teasing, Lian’s sassy flirtation, Noe’s unwavering support, Cyprus’s contagious joy, and Ranbir’s calming presence. It was Wrath’s sarcasm and affection. Sipho’s obsessive belief in me, Winona’s gentle love, Luca’s declaration of loyalty, and Pino’s understanding of what I could be. All of this.

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