Book 5: Unshakable

Ingrid

Two days before my wedding, I sit in the temple in front of Halit, the holy woman, and struggle not to fall asleep. She has that cadence to her voice, more lullaby than stirring religious rhetoric, and the temple is muggy-warm with late summer heat.

And, of course, Kaloni has been running us fucking ragged.

Cirocco sits beside me for the first time in—shit, has it really been two days?—fighting his own losing battle. There have been a thousand and one things to do for the wedding, enough to keep both of us more than busy. While I get my dress fitted, he engages in ancient rituals Kaloni just thought needed to be brought back for this particular wedding. While I review seating charts, he organizes rooms for all the visiting dignitaries in a palace already crammed to the gills. I’ve spent what feels like most of a week running past him, and