All That Matters, Book 3
Adult Fantasy
Date Published: 06-24-2025
Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing
Broken hearts can hardly mend the world.
Unless they relinquish all that matters to them.
The relics of power have shattered, awakening the ancient Gods of Creation. As
they stir inside their amber cages in Heaven, the Guardian joins forces with
the Devil, hoping to contain their influence within the afterlife realms. The
Gods, however, don’t need to move an inch to catch their prey. Mortal or
immortal, human or fae, heroes or villains—all are vulnerable to the
thrall of Reality, Reason, and Release.
Each has their own agenda, and they have already chosen three champions to do
their bidding.
The more their hosts resist, the more the Gods revel.
Before too long, there won’t be anything left of them to fight for.
In a world where evil has finally announced its homecoming, the only things
standing between existence and annihilation are those fragile bonds of
friendship and love that time has ripped asunder.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
The crack in the air
The palace felt like a home.
Malakai hadn’t expected it to be so warm and cozy, but not because they
were in the capital of the land of eternal winter. It said more about the
royal household he’d grown up in, for it’d been twenty-six years of
him living there, and it had yet to become a home.
An enormous wooden chalet, the Aldorian Palace was nearly three times
the size of the other houses in the vicinity, but other than that, nothing
screamed “regal” about it. The overhanging eaves of the slanted roof
were identical to the rest, as were the snow-defying, bright
flowers decorating the balcony railings. Malakai knew he would find
similar stone-pitted hearths emanating the warmth of the fire and
familiarity in those houses as well. And while the Castellon Palace
had yards of lush gardens and menacing iron fences to mark its
territory in the farthest end of the city, Aldorian royals happily
coexisted with their commoner neighbors.
If only he’d managed to squash his feelings for Amaryllis,
he could’ve shared this home with Eloise.
Malakai sighed, his breath creating a puff of mist
that melted away into the night sky as he walked
out of his room onto the third-floor balcony. A
strand of lightning crackled in the air and disappeared
before he could focus on it.
“That’s happening more and more these days.”
Startled, he glanced to his side, and in the
dark corner, Amaryllis sat on a chair swing,
almost invisible beneath the fluffy blanket.
Malakai was so relieved to see her well enough to
venture out after days that his knees threatened to give in.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better. I needed some fresh air.” There was
no blame in her tone, but that didn’t help assuage his guilt.
Malakai bore the responsibility for her current condition
almost to the same extent as Kahtom. He could argue his
poisonous mixture had helped save Amaryllis (and, in
turn, the residents of Aldorian Abbey) by combating the
effects of the one the disgruntled King of Imitators had
tricked her into drinking. However, it also inevitably
weakened her. As immune as Amaryllis’ fae constitution
was to human-made chemicals and liquors, it was that much
more susceptible to natural ingredients.
Malakai had known that when he’d injected her with
the poison this time. He knew that when he’d done it
once before, when he had claimed to have loved her. I still do.
Was there no way back to her?
Once the treaty he’d struck with the Aldorian queen was signed
and formalized, Malakai would have no excuse to wait until Amaryllis
returned to the fae realm. He would never see her again, and he still
hadn’t apologized to her. Malakai’s nails painfully dug into his palms.
“I get dizzy when I exert myself,” she replied to his earlier inquiry,
unaware of his inner conflict. “But other than that, I’m fine. My
core is getting stronger, and I should be able to cross
the Rift in a couple of days. I need to go back to my realm. There’s
so much to do there! But Una—”
“Doesn’t agree,” the young Cirrah of Amon announced from
behind them with the authority of a queen.
“Neither do I,” affirmed Eloise. The ruler of this vast mountainous
kingdom was a dark haired woman with alabaster skin and exquisite grace.
“Let’s go inside, though. Sava has prepared a fire for us in the sitting room.”
The Aldorian royal household was far smaller than Malakai was used to.
There were barely four guards for the three floors; two were stationed
at the entrance, and the other two rotated shifts between the upper levels.
The lowermost floor had a throne room where the queen held court and
met her citizens, while the rest were offices for dignitaries who all returned
to their respective homes by sundown. After that, the only people left were
Eloise, the guards, her three lady’s maids, and the handful of servants.
The retired King lived in the same neighborhood but maintained a separate
abode, though he had been visiting them frequently since they’d moved
here from the abbey two weeks ago. The parliament was a different
building within walking distance of the palace.
“I heard from the Principae today,” Eloise informed them.
“Most of the guests from the convention recovered and left
already. The abbey residents are doing well, too.”
“How’s Kisa? Declan?” Una asked urgently.
“Kisa is getting better,” Malakai replied instead of Eloise.
“Principae was even hopeful that the Healer aspect of her prana
might get restored in time. Vid and Hunter will stay with her
at the abbey until she’s strong enough to travel.”
“Then what happens to her?” Amaryllis asked quietly.
Malakai smiled. “Vid and Hunter plan to adopt her officially
once we return to Castellon.” Kisa’s continued presence in
their lives was one of the very few things that brightened
Malakai’s days.
“And Declan says hello. Una, I can’t thank you enough for
what you did,” Eloise added. “I’m glad he’s okay. But I
couldn’t have done it without Zeb—” Una stopped herself
from saying anything further.
Malakai had heard about Declan, the scholar friend of Eloise
and Una in the abbey, who’d thrown himself off a cliff
while chasing a specter of his memory under the thrall
of Amaryllis’ mind magic. Una had saved his life with
her dual prana, catching him before he could hit the ground.
As far as Malakai knew, Zeb, Una’s angelic Handler, had already
left the mortal realm by then. But he didn’t press Una for
an explanation. The Angel’s sudden departure wasn’t a
topic she liked to discuss, especially not with Malakai there.
Anticipating his presence in such close quarters would be
uncomfortable for Una and Amaryllis (and he didn’t blame them),
Malakai had considered moving into an inn. However, he
couldn’t give up on these last few days with Amaryllis.
So, despite his best intentions, Malakai had decided to stay.
They lounged on the cushioned couches facing the
fireplace as the mugs of hot apple cider filled the room
with a pleasant aroma of cinnamon, cloves, and orange peel,
when the air fractured again and remained cracked.
“Why on Tarderan does the Rift keep doing this?” Una exclaimed.
The glimpse of a verdant forest through a gaping hole in the
middle of the room would have been weird enough.
But the Mesmer Queen’s shocked gasp confirmed something
was terribly wrong.
About the Author
Mirai Amell is a neuroscientist who believes in myths and magic as much
as she trusts molecules and microscopes. When she is not doing science,
reading fantasy books, or watching anime, Mirai scribbles poems published in
anthologies like From One Line Vol(s) 1-3, Wounds I Healed, and The
Crow’s Quill magazine.
Currently, Mirai lives in Seattle, where she researches various brain things.
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