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Story: Dawnbringer

“I could’ve learned.”

“Did you?”

“No,” she said and kicked a pebble down the street. “Did you want to… spar?”

Skye gave a low, dark chuckle that made everything inside her turn molten. “After a fashion.”

They were through the townhouse gates, walking the garden path along the perimeter, when Skye said, “So, I’ve been thinking—”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

He flicked her nose and kept going, “I’ve been thinking that we skipped a few steps. Watching you and Ren tonight, I… well, I realized I got lucky. In a lot of ways. I never had to court you… to prove my worth as a mate, I guess.”

They stopped in front of a large fountain still drained for the winter. Taly looked up at him, brow furrowing. “Why would you need to prove yourself to me?”

“Because… I don’t know.” He shuffled awkwardly. “I was the dumb kid that used to enchant your books to rearrange themselves, and flip your room sideways, and put pink dye in your soap.”

Taly winced at the memory, if only because he’d failed to check if the brand of dye was one that would wash out.

He went on, faster now, like he was afraid of losing momentum, “Because you’ve had a front-row seat to every stupid thing I’ve ever done, and because, I don’t know, we were…youngtogether. If we had met in Arylaan or Ghislain or anywhere else, I would’ve had to win you. The same way that Ren or any other man would’ve tried to win you. Fate just intervened early, and I was lucky enough that by the time I realized I was in love with you, you already loved me too.”

Maybe it was the words, the raw honesty of them—or maybe it was just the alcohol making her emotional—but Taly’s eyes began to sting. “So, what I’m hearing,” she said, wiping her cheeks, “is that youwerejealous.”

Skye laughed, grinning as he ducked his head, and she wondered if any of the women at court, the ones she’d always been so secretly jealous of, ever got to see that smile. The one that was real and honest and made his eyes light up—and thatalways got put away when he assumed the mask of theHeir to Ghislain.

He fished in his pocket. “Look, I was planning on giving you this—in the version of events where I didn’t completely fuck up telling you about the bond. And keep in mind, I can change it if you don’t like it. Make it look like anything you want.”

There was a flicker in the dark.

Taly gasped and grabbed the necklace—hermother’snecklace—clutching it to her chest. “Where did you find this?”

The Queen had taken it from her that first night at the palace. She thought it was lost forever.

“I didn’t, technically,” Skye said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ll have to ask Aiden for that story. Though I did keep Sarina from prematurely burying it inside an urn.”

Taly wasn’t sure why she laughed at that, but she did, turning the necklace over in her hands. In the center was the familiar teardrop pendant—pink quartz with a small divot in the center. But it now hovered inside a cage of gold and silver braided from the stems of delicate snowdrops crawling along the chain. Mother-of-pearl petals dangled like beads.

Skye shifted, gravel crunching underfoot. “Do you… like it?”

Taly shook her head.

“Love it?” he asked, cautious but hopeful.

She nodded, tears finally spilling over.

He took her hand, softly kissing her palm before threading their fingers together. “I know the humans have their own traditions surrounding these kinds of things, and I don’t expect any of that to be less important to you now.”

She frowned up at him. “What are you talking about?”

Skye took a long, shuddering breath—and then dropped to one knee.

Taly stopped hearing the rain. Stopped feeling the cold. Her entire world narrowed to the man in front of her and the dull, frantic beat of her heart.

No.

No, no, no.

Not a Fey tradition, but a human one, and he couldn’tpossiblybe serious.

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