Those weren’t her only questions, either. What would she do as queen? What did that even mean? And what if Henrik wasn’t cured long-term? What if he died? What if his blood couldn’t cure her leukemia? Their doctor had no training to treat her. How would she get the care she needed so she could live as long as she could?
There were so many unknowns that she was paralyzed—trapped between the wild yearnings of her heart and the logical misgivings of her head.
And it didn’t help that a mild but continuous sensation of pins and needles continued to play over the skin of her left hand.
As the hour of the judging ceremony, Kaira paced her posh room at the city’s nicest hotel in an incredible beaded silver gown that had been delivered anonymously the previous morning. She was so certain it was from Henrik that she smelled it to see if she could catch his dark spice on the fine fabric. That she couldn’t made her no less certain.
In just three hours, she needed to call Jakob. She needed to make a decision. She needed to have an answer. And she had no earthly idea how to do any of that.
Every time one part of her brain came close to convincing her she wanted Henrik, another part reminded her that they’d met when he attacked her, bit her and took her against her will.
Finally, she couldn’t stand to be in her room for one more minute. Maybe the fresh, crisp night air and the short walk to the auditorium would clear her head and shed some light on how to choose the right path. On autopilot, she made her way through the hotel and out onto the crowded, festive, aurora-lit street. The lights were already putting on a show, a diffuse green providing a backdrop for a brighter, rippling wave of the same color. Everywhere she looked, people were paired or grouped up. Friends, lovers, spouses, siblings, parents, children. She heaved a breath, swallowed her solitude, and made her way down the street.
Gasps rang out. Then oohs and ahhs. Ahead of her, people broke into quick walks and runs to the intersection. Kaira glanced up in time to see a curtain of red flash through the sky.
How remarkable! City lights usually obscured all but the strongest color variations. Sometimes they couldn’t be seen by the naked eye at all, only captured on film. Oh, why didn’t she have her camera? She reached the intersection, but the gathering onlookers formed a wall she couldn’t get through or see around. She tried anyway, people seeming to give way when they saw how fancy she was dressed.
Finally, she stepped through an opening in the crowd and looked up through the break in the buildings.
Her heart leapt into her throat. A towering cathedral of red stretched to the heavens, supported by an undulating wave of green. And, at the very bottom, hanging so low in the sky you could almost touch it, was a perfectly formed band of blue light.
It was the once-in-a-lifetime blue aurora, and it was the color of Henrik’s eyes.
Seeing this rarest aurora, when their love of the lights was one thing that had bonded them, had to be a sign. With a final ripple, the blue faded away.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Kaira scrabbled to find her phone in her purse. Her hands were so shaky it took three tries to pull it out. People dispersed, heading back on their merry way again, leaving her in the middle of the intersection to make maybe the most important call of her life.
“Jakob? It’s Kaira. I want him,” she said when he answered the phone. “Tell Henrik I want him. Please tell him to come get me now,” she blurted out, her hand stinging and her chest filled with such a mix of emotions that it was hard to draw a deep breath. What if he’d changed his mind? What if she’d waited too long?
“Thank God,” Jakob said. “Tell him yourself.”
“What?” Phone still pressed to her ear, she looked up, her gaze scanning right and left. She did a double-take when she saw him, standing right in front of her on the opposite side of the intersection. Something seemed different about him, but she was too emotional to think on it. Her breath shuddered in her chest and tears formed of fear and happiness pooled in her eyes. “I see him.”
But Jakob didn’t answer. The line was dead. And, this time, she didn’t need him to tell her what to do. Her heart had already made the leap across the square, she only had to join it.
Dodging groups of festivalgoers, she wove her way through the space. And then she saw what was different. He’d filled out, a monumental understatement. The hollows of his face were gone, the bones of his hands no longer protruded, and he now carried the muscular bulk she’d feared the first time she’d met him would make him imposing. And, was it the lights, or had his hair even taken on the faintest blond hue? As if all that weren’t enough, a thin braid, like the one Jakob and the other warriors wore, hung down the left side of his face where, two days ago, he’d had a bald patch.