The Bound (Ascension #2)(115)

The rest of the room agreed with her.

Matilde stood up a little straighter. “Just like old times, right, Mari?”

“I hope it doesn’t end up like old times.”

“We’re older and wiser. Plus, I’ll let you do all the real planning.”

Vera rolled her eyes. “Of course you will.”



Two days later, Cyrene was standing on the docks at First Harbor with her heart in her throat. She could barely see the outline of Ahlvie and Orden in the torchlight. She couldn’t believe they were actually going to go through with this. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to go through with this. It felt…crazy. And maybe it was, but it was the only way, and she would do it. She had made a promise to Dean.

“You have everything?” Cyrene asked.

Ahlvie patted his shirt pocket. “All here. Are you going to tell me what the letter says?”

Cyrene shook her head. “It’s private, but if talking to Edric doesn’t work”—and she didn’t think it would—“then give him the letter. That should settle things.”

“I can’t believe, after all of this, I’m on my way back to Byern.”

“I know. Maelia is in position to make sure no one knows, not even Darmian, that you are leaving tonight.”

“Good. You know I’ll do what I can to get this all straightened out.” His eyes drifted upward, searching out Avoca.

Cyrene knew Ahlvie hated leaving Avoca behind, but she needed Avoca to get through this.

“And you’ll return to me safe and sound and in one piece,” Cyrene instructed him. She reached out and touched his arm. “And to her.”

“Is she coming?”

Cyrene was glad for the low light. She could normally sense Avoca when she was near, but she didn’t feel a thing. Cyrene had expected her to be here, but her mood had been so sour after they had finalized their plans that Cyrene also wasn’t that surprised to find that she was gone. She had already lost Ceis’f. Even if they had fought all the time, she hadn’t actually wanted him to leave. And she definitely didn’t want Ahlvie to leave.

“I don’t know,” Cyrene finally answered.

“She’ll be here,” Ahlvie said confidently. “She has to be.”

“I’m sorry that we have to split up.”

Ahlvie shook his head. “It’s a necessity, but she knows how I feel. Nothing is going to change that in the time it takes for me to get to Byern and back.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Cyrene asked.

“I know I’m a jokester and a drunk and a gambler and anything else people want to call me,” Ahlvie said. His eyes were still fixed on the end of the dock. “But none of that matters when I’m with her. But I haven’t told her, and I need to tell her.”

“I’m sure she knows.”

“Time to go,” Orden called from the deck of the ship. “We need to get out of here. Storm’s a-brewin’.”

Ahlvie gave Cyrene a wry smile.

“Be safe out there,” she told him.

He pulled her to him and squeezed her hard. “You be safe, too. You won’t have me to watch your back.”

Cyrene laughed. “I’m pretty sure I watch your back.”

Ahlvie’s eyes wandered down to the end of the dock again, and then he shook his head in despair. “Will you tell her I love her?”

“Tell her when you come back,” Cyrene insisted. “You’ll have all the time in the world then.”

He nodded, and with one last forlorn look, he hurried after Orden and got onto the boat. The Eleysian vessel disappeared out onto the water. It was already choppy. Unseasonably troublesome.

She would have smiled if she wasn’t so sad to see her friends go.

A figure appeared next to her, and Cyrene would have startled if she hadn’t sensed her coming.

“Why didn’t you say good-bye?” Cyrene asked.

Avoca shook her head. “I can’t say good-bye to him.”

“He was devastated that you weren’t here.”

“He’ll come back. He has to come back.”

With a flick of Cyrene’s magic, she linked herself with Avoca. The feel of their magic together was about as intimate as Avoca got. She wasn’t one to break down and cry or ask for a hug. But this, Cyrene could offer her. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.



“Everything falls into place today,” Maelia said in Cyrene’s room the next morning. Her hands were shaking as she pulled on the pale yellow Eleysian gown for the Bride of the Sea ceremony.

Cyrene’s own gown had been delivered this morning. When she had opened the box, she had gasped. It wasn’t the gown that she had ordered. It was something so much more beautiful. The cerulean and gold dress was so light and buttery soft that it slipped through her fingers. The dress was strapless with a sheer slip that went over the bottom layer of the dress before falling long and flowy to the ground. She wore the string of Eleysian pearls Dean had given her at Eos around her neck.

“I know.” She looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted the pin in her hair. “Are you sure that Darmian is none the wiser with our plans? I don’t want him to run to Dean.”

She nodded. Her eyes were distant. “I’m certain.”