The next morning, the castle hummed with activity, but something ancient stirred within Sophia.
The light from the stained-glass windows filtered into her chambers, bathing her skin in hues of rose and gold. She stood before the mirror, breathing heavily, clutching the edges of the vanity as heat surged through her back—no, not just heat. A radiant, aching power.
She cried out, falling to her knees, her nightgown tearing as something burst free from beneath her skin.
Wings.
Glistening, ethereal wings exploded from her back—massive, divine, shimmering with light and shadow. They unfurled like a goddess reborn, pulsating with celestial energy. The air rippled around her, her magic cascading through the castle in waves.
Maids screamed in awe. Doors burst open. Lucian's mother gasped from the hall.
And then, one by one, everyone began to gather—royal guards, nobles, even King Thorne himself. Lucian arrived last, his breath caught in his throat as he pushed through the crowd and saw her.
Sophia stood glowing, her wings curved behind her like the embrace of divinity itself.
Selaria, too, was there—her expression twisted in stunned silence, her pride crumbling.
Lucian's mother stepped forward, eyes wide. "It is true… she is of Aurelitha's line. Goddess-born. The wings only bloom in the fae goddess' bloodline—and only once the soul has begun to awaken to its mate."
Lucian stiffened.
Sophia looked at him, her heart thudding. "What does she mean?"
His mother approached gently. "The full bloom of your wings means your soul is preparing. Once he marks you, claims you, you will be fully one—body, spirit, and power. Your transformation will be irreversible. You will no longer just be Sophia… you will be his queen, goddess-bonded."
The court fell into a hush.
Lucian's gaze never left her. Not now. Not ever.
And in that moment, everyone saw it.
He was already hers.
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