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Taly stood in front of the mirror, willing her heart to stop beating so damned fast.

She had scrubbed the blood off her skin and washed her hair. She’d even rummaged through the small case of cosmetics that had been left in the washroom, using just the barest trace of rouge on her cheeks and lining her eyes with kohl. She couldn’t use a glamour—that would be too obvious, especially to a shadow mage. But if applied with a delicate hand, human cosmetics looked natural enough to escape immediate scrutiny.

She fiddled with her hair. Pinched her cheeks. Despite the rouge, she still looked pale. And her hands—her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Just breathe,” she whispered, wiping her palms on the front of her dress and watching with detached fascination as the girl in the mirror parroted the movement. Her reflection still caught her off-guard sometimes, and considering that she’d had nearly a year to adjust her own perception, she couldn’t begin to imagine what Skye must be thinking right now. How different she must seem from the person he’d last seen. How different and how strange…

It was probably why she’d caught him staring.

With a growl, Taly grabbed a nearby cloth and scrubbed her face before yanking out the twist of hair she’d tried to pile on her head in that way that Leto made look so effortless. She began weaving it into a long, ropelike braid.

She’d spent a year wondering what it would be like to finally see Skye again, trying to picture his reaction, what he would say when he finally saw the eyes and the ears and the perfect features. She’d planned out what she’d wear (something pretty but familiar), how she’d arrange her hair (braided to hide her ears). She’d imagined the things she might say to help him see beyond the stain of her magic, to still seeherbeneath this new, strange thing she had become.

But that chance was gone now. The first time he’d seen her since she’d left him in Ebondrift and she’d been covered in blood, still out of her mind with rage and grief. She’d been every horrible thing the Sanctorum had ever claimed time mages to be, and no amount of rouge or lipstick was going to erase that image.

Taking a breath, she placed both hands on the ceramic vanity, still warm from the steam of the bath.

Their friendship would survive. She knew that. They had spent their entire lives fighting and making up, and they would find a way to move past this. Maybe not the same as they were before, but they would have a tomorrow.

The only problem was… she wasn’t sure that was enough anymore. She wasn’t sure it had ever been enough. She wanted more than his friendship, but what if she had missed that chance? She had lied to him. Hurt him. And even though her intentions had been noble, that didn’t change what she was. It didn’t change the fact that loving her meant that his life on Tempris would be over.

That he would never be able to go back home.

Taly wiped at the tears welling in her eyes, then tugged her dress into place. It was simple and light, the skirt falling in gauzy layers to just below her knees. She had found it waiting for her in her closet, along with a note from Leto that simply read:I’m sorry.

“Too late to change now,” she murmured, throwing her braid over her shoulder. She had thought the dress looked pretty at first, but now she just felt silly. She should’ve worn something more familiar, like trousers and boots, maybe her favorite tunic. She’d hardly ever worn dresses as a human. Skye was probably going to think she looked strange.

“Just go,” she breathed.Before he figured out that she was avoiding him and the conversation she knew was coming. She couldn’t run anymore. Didn’t want to.

So, Taly closed her eyes and counted to three. And when she opened them, she gathered what was left of her pride and swagger, wrapping them around her like a shield. By the time she reached for the doorknob, ready to face the man that now had the power to break her heart beyond recognition, her hands had finally stopped shaking.

“What are you doing in there?”

Skye looked up from the dresser drawer to find Taly leaning against the closet doorframe, arms crossed.

For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. She looked so devastatingly lovely, dressed all in white with the late afternoon sunlight flooding in behind her. And those eyes, that face, the way her dress was at once modest and yet somehow still teased at every curve and—

I should’ve shaved,he thought suddenly. And tucked in his shirt. Found shoes. Granted, Taly wasn’t wearing shoes either, but he’d been killing time for over an hour now. He could’ve at least combed his hair.

“Well?” Taly prompted when he didn’t answer. A smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. “Is there a reason you’re snooping through my closet?”

Boredom. Curiosity. What had begun with a cursory glance inside an open doorway had become a full-fledged investigation once he had seen the sheer number of ballgowns, and jewels, and formal wear—all of it covered with her scent. As though it had been worn and not just shoved into a dark corner to be forgotten like every other dress she had ever owned.

It was just dumb luck that she had walked in the moment he opened this particular drawer, and since death was now inevitable, he decided he should at least have some fun before she ended him.

Skye finally found his tongue, and despite the danger to his person, plastered on a smirk. “This is not what I would’ve expected,” he said, holding up a small scrap of lace that didn’t look large enough to cover much of anything, much less thearea for which it was intended. “Considering your hatred for all things satin and lace, I figured you probably wore men’s shorts. I’m pleasantly surprised.”

Taly’s cheeks turned a very fetching shade of pink, but she didn’t rush forward, didn’t squeal and start pummeling him the way he’d expected. She simply pushed herself off the doorframe and began making her way towards him, skirts swishing with each feminine sway of her hips.

When she was close enough for him to feel the heat from her body, she murmured, “I like the way satin feels against my skin.” The teasing smile she gave him made his heart pick up a beat. “It makes me think of sex.”

Heat rushed through him. But before his brain could formulate a response, Taly snapped the drawer closed.

He jumped back, barely escaping with his fingers still intact and laughing when she snatched the pair of undergarments away. The look she gave him—he saw his death there.

“Since when are you this nosy?” she grumbled, tossing the bit of lace on top of the dresser before grabbing his arm and shoving him in front of her.

“I was left unattended for a really long time. I figured rummaging around your closet was safer than trying to clean your study, which” —he turned, and she was still glaring at him as she pulled the closet door closed— “looks like a tornado tore through it. And I’m not even going to touch on that coin… throne… thing. I thought you were supposed to be the organized one.”