Page 117 of Embrace the Serpent

Some feet away lay the remains of a mace, the metal dented, the handle snapped.

It was impossible. Even a diamond would likely shatter when hammered with such force.

I clutched the heartstone to my chest, and it warmed me like a hug, but something had changed. It was like it had honed itself, become more itself, and waves of feeling washed over me, so full of emotion and so indescribably, extraordinarily Rane.

It wanted so many things. To protect, to discover, to go home.

I felt the Serpent King’s eyes on me. He held himself still as I approached, the great serpentine coil of his body so taut that his scales were trembling. The look in his eyes was gentle, fearful.

I held the heartstone out like an offering.

He lowered his head. I stepped closer, feeling the warmth of his scales beneath my fingers, and the heartstone touched his scales, right over his chest.

With a shuddering gasp, he transformed, his massive body shrinking, the spears plinking to the ground, until Rane stood before me, silver-haired and beautiful. He collapsed to his knees,and I fell beside him, cradling him in my arms, his head coming to rest in the crook of my elbow.

“Forgive me,” he said.

“For what?”

“I never wanted you to see me as a monster.”

Oh, Rane. I cupped his face in my palm. His secret face. “That’s not what I see.”

His eyes opened, clear and amused, but in their depths was a faint flicker of pain.

“You were supposed to go for your heart,” I scolded.

He put a hand to my cheek. “You are my heart.”

My face heated, and I ducked my head. “No, really.” It didn’t make sense. He had been so far gone.

“I told you,” he said. “It’s not just my heart that loves you. My kidneys love you. My tail loves you, even when it’s not here. Even the points of my fangs love you. Even—”

I put my hand over his lips. “Okay, that’s enough.”

He laughed against my palm, and a glint of gold caught my eye, from the open collar of his shirt. My mother’s ring, tied on a cord around his neck. He hadn’t taken it off.

I met his laughing eyes, and it felt like all the world was in them. He was mine—he had always been mine—and all the world was ours. And I was unafraid.

My hand fell to his chest as he rose, sitting up, meeting my gaze.

I wanted him to see me, to read in my eyes what I felt for him. He had loved me as a king, as a servant, as a beast. His love had changed me, and by loving him back, I had changed myself more.

I kissed him, and when his lips curled in a smile, so did mine.

23

I considered myself married to Rane, and I wasn’t too bothered about which of our weddings—the first to the Serpent King, or the second in secret—was the official one. After all, a wedding didn’t matter as much as the life we were building together.

On this, I was quickly corrected.

The consensus was unanimous between Rane’s grandmother, my mother, and about two dozen divine people whose names I hadn’t yet learned, but who were surprisingly opinionated about my life, nonetheless. The wedding festivities—for aproperwedding—would be resumed at once.

“It’ll lift up everyone’s spirits,” my mother said. “Rebuilding has been so hard on the townspeople, especially.”

Rane, the coward, smiled at me with stars in his eyes. “Whatever you want, my love.”

“Fine,” I said, and a cheer broke out so loudly that I was afraid no one heard me continue, “but let’s keep it simple.”

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