The Array offered escorts—Veyloris Tempest Legion, sleek armor, fancy atmospheric gear. Kaien turned them down. Smart. More people means more resonance noise. Right now it’s just us, our signatures, and a realm that’s already singing.
We take the bridge toward the inner ring. It’s narrow, swaying slightly, open on both sides to silver sky and the dark storm sea far below. Not a problem for airborne operatives. Annoying for someone whose magic is voice and not wings.
Theron glances over his shoulder. “Want me to carry you?”
“No.”
“You sure? I pick you up, you sigh—”
“Vale,” Kaien says.
“—I heroically don’t drop you—”
“Vale.”
“—we get married—”
“Theron,” I snap, laughing despite myself.
He grins back, bright and stupidly handsome. “See? Missed that.”
I school my face again. “We’re
