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This Nick was different—he seemed more complex, more difficult to read. But both Nicks shared the same core of goodness. In the other timeline, Nick’s torturer had told Eleanor: Must we use this boy? He’s always so virtuous. It had taken them two thousand attempts to break him. They never really had.

Nick’s gaze roved over Joan’s face. ‘That’s how you see me?’ he whispered.

Joan nodded. There was no way to actually explain to him how she saw him. He was a bright light in the darkness. Every version of him.

‘Before …’ Nick said, and now he sounded tentative. ‘You said you wanted …’ His voice felt like a low rumble in Joan’s bones. ‘What did you want?’

‘I …’ Joan’s voice faltered. She couldn’t say it even to herself. She shouldn’t.

‘I can tell you what I want,’ Nick said steadily. ‘I want to be where you are. In any way you let me.’

Joan couldn’t take her eyes from him. She’d expected to lose him today; she could feel the phantom ache of it now. She hadn’t realised how important this Nick was becoming to her until she’d had to face the prospect of that loss.

‘I want …’ Joan’s breath shuddered out. What do you want? She’d hardly let herself want anything since she’d woken up in this new timeline. Wanting was dangerous and it hurt. Yearning for other times led to fading out of this time as her body tried to jump. Wanting meant watching Nick from afar, knowing she couldn’t ever be with him.

Except he’d just told her she could be with him.

And she felt … Joan took a sharp breath. This wasn’t Nick. It wasn’t him. But … she let herself admit the truth. She’d been falling hard for this Nick too. Every iteration of him was the same at his core.

‘I want you,’ she admitted. He seemed to light up from the inside at her words. Her heart clenched. ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ she whispered.

‘I don’t want to hurt you either,’ he whispered back. His eyes were as clear as a new day. ‘So we won’t,’ he said.

Could it be that simple?

‘Can I?’ he said. He held out his hand. ‘Please?’

It only took three steps to move to him. Nick’s hand came up to cup her face, one big thumb sweeping over her cheekbone. Joan’s breath caught. Another sweep across her cheekbone, and Nick’s eyes darkened. ‘God, you’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘I thought that the first time I saw you. You’re so beautiful.’ He was beautiful. He was a work of art. A painting. His dark hair was just curling at the ends, framing his handsome face. ‘I really want to kiss you,’ he whispered.

Joan was already crying as she lifted her face. She could feel his confusion as he wiped away her tears. She’d missed him so much. And this wasn’t him. But it was. This was him as he could have been.

Nick bent and kissed her and it felt like everything she’d missed and wanted. She kissed him back desperately.

‘So sweet,’ a cold voice said from the doorway. ‘So touching to see new love blossoming.’

Joan jerked back from the kiss, turning fast.

The library door was open. Eleanor swept into the room, along with a handful of courtiers and guards—and Aaron, Joan saw with dismay. He didn’t look at Joan as he followed Eleanor in.

‘Such a sweet first kiss,’ Eleanor said to Joan.

Joan flushed. What did Eleanor want? Why was she taunting them? It was clear that she knew it hadn’t been their first kiss. ‘What do you want with us?’ Joan said.

Eleanor turned to Nick. ‘I heard what she said to you. She almost sounded sincere, didn’t she? Like she hasn’t been lying to you this whole time.’

‘I wasn’t lying,’ Joan blurted, confused. Eleanor’s mouth lifted in a cruel, amused smile. ‘I mean …’ Joan said to Nick, faltering. She’d only just told him the truth.

Nick dropped his hold on Joan’s waist and took her hand, reassuring and comforting. It’s okay, his touch said. We’re okay. He turned to Eleanor and said coolly, ‘Answer her question. What do you want with us? Why are you keeping us here?’

Eleanor looked at their clasped hands and smiled wider. ‘The timeline is such a romantic old fool, isn’t it? It was always going to bring you two back together.’ Nick looked confused, and Eleanor laughed. ‘Oh, she hasn’t told you that part of it? Well … I bet there’s a lot she hasn’t told you.’

‘You’d be surprised,’ Nick said softly.

‘Would I?’ Eleanor’s eyes dropped to the broken chain. Her expression brightened. ‘Now, look at that. All we had to do was threaten her.’

‘You …’ Joan stared.

Did Eleanor think she could make Nick into the hero again? If so, she was going to fail. Joan had already told him the truth of monsters. He’d been horrified, but he hadn’t turned into a killer. He’d suggested talking to Joan’s family. He’d wanted to persuade, not fight.