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“I don’t want you to get cold,” he rumbled, adjusting the material so it covered her skin. Her gloved hand rose, clutching the lapels to hold them together.

Fucking gods. His blood burned at the sight of River in his clothes, and his cock jerked to attention. She looked like perfection now. What would she look like wearing nothing but his suit jacket?

Nikhail had never been one for fae possessiveness, but he had a feeling that was about to change.

That territorial part of him loved that River would now be covered in his scent.

When they returned to the ballroom, every fae, elf, witch, werewolf, shifter, and vampire would be able to smell him on her.

It was a small claim, but it was a claim, nonetheless .

River’s eyes were wide as she looked up at him, her face paler than normal. “Nik, I’m not sure this is a good?—”

“Not yet, River. Please.” The same part of him that was delighted by the fact that she was now covered in his scent didn’t want anyone overhearing their conversation.

Not now that he finally had a chance to have her alone.

“All right,” she whispered.

Placing his hand on her back once more, he led River down the balcony stairs and into the gardens. The snow was starting to pick up, and the temperature was dropping, but he didn’t feel the cold at all.

How could he, when River was by his side?

Nikhail led River through the garden for several minutes, a comfortable silence stretching between them. She didn’t seem ready to talk, and he wouldn’t push her.

The sounds of the Winter Solstice celebration slowly dimmed until they were nothing but a hum on the night air.

After a short while, their destination came into view. Situated in the middle of the garden that wasn’t really a garden, far enough away from the party that they were completely isolated, was a large glass solarium.

Nikhail exhaled a sigh of relief that the structure was still here. Ryker had told him about this place, saying that he used to play here as a child, and Nikhail had banked on the fact that Tertia Waterborn wouldn’t let a building fall into disrepair on her watch.

Not only was it still standing, but it was a work of art.

The building should’ve stood out, with its translucent walls and roof, but the lush green vines growing all over it made it seem like it was one with the land.

Through the greenery, Nikhail could make out several benches lining the interior of the structure.

Perfect.

He guided River up the steps with a gentle press of his hand, staying behind her so he could catch her if she tripped. The moon’s silver glow shone through the clouds, and the thin layer of snow that had gathered on the solarium’s roof twinkled like a field of diamonds.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Opening the palm of his hand that wasn’t on River’s back, Nikhail reached into his well of power. His magic was sitting there, waiting and eager to do his bidding.

Breathing his will into the power that was his birthright, he twisted his fingers. His skin prickled as magic slipped from him, and a gust of wind skated along the path in front of them.

The snow gathered on top of the solarium blew away as if it had never existed. The moon’s glow brightened, illuminating the stone benches and potted plants hidden within the glass building.

“That’s a neat trick,” River remarked as he reached around her to open the door.

Biting back a grin, he sent a warm breeze to brush against her cheek. “I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve, princess.”

He’d show her every single one if she gave him a chance. With that thought in mind, he held open the door, gesturing for her to go ahead of him.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked.

She hugged his jacket tighter around herself and glanced over her shoulder, her lips tilting up into a soft smile. “Yes, I’m very warm. ”

“Good.” He followed her inside, letting the door fall shut behind him.

He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers once more. He couldn’t help himself—he needed to be touching her. This need had been present for years, and it felt incredible to finally acknowledge it.

“I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold looking at the stars,” he murmured.

Her brows furrowed, and the most adorable look of confusion crossed her face. “Is that why we’re out here, Nik?”

“One of the reasons,” he admitted.

“Perhaps you missed the clouds?” She grimaced, and gods, even that expression made him want to press his lips against hers. “It’s snowing, so the stars are hidden…”

Her voice trailed off as he tugged her towards a bench, urging her to sit with him.

“Look up, River,” he commanded softly once they’d taken their seats.

It pleased him to no end that she didn’t fight him. She craned up her neck, and he kept his eyes on her. He saw the moment she understood what he’d done, because her perfect, rosy lips fell open in shock.

By the Blessed Black Sands, she was beautiful. Did she know how stunning she was? That she was the picture of perfection, and she’d haunted his dreams since their first meeting?

“Oh, Nik,” she breathed, her hand tightening around his. “It’s incredible. Did you do this?”

Now, he followed her line of sight. Clouds filled the night sky, blotting out most of the stars, except for the area directly above the solarium.

There, the sky was clear, and there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. Dozens of stars scintillated above them, as bright as any cloudless night.

“I did.” His thigh brushed against hers, and shivers ran through him. Every touch felt like a taste of what was to come, and he was a starving man, desperate for more. “You deserve the stars, River.”

In truth, she deserved more than that. She deserved the world, the stars, the sun, the moon, and everything in between.

If it were in his power, he’d give them all to her.

The longest moment passed before her gaze returned to him.

“Nik, I… I think we need—” she started to say at the same time that he said, “I have something for you, River.”

They both paused, like characters in the cartoons his sisters used to watch on weekends, and an awkward silence stretched between them.

He was the first to recover. Shifting on the bench to see her better, he clasped her hand between his and rested their joined hands on her thigh. His soul delighted in their closeness.

“Go ahead, princess,” he murmured. “What did you want to say?”

Her cheeks flushed at the nickname, and the urge to capture her lips with his filled him. Fuck, he wanted to kiss her more than he’d ever wanted anyone else in his entire life.

River licked her lips, and he could’ve sworn that tears lined her eyes. Before he could be sure, she dropped her gaze to her lap and stared at their joined hands. Cast in moonlight, she had an ethereal look about her. A goddess of old, she was as beautiful as she was powerful.

“No, it’s okay,” she murmured. “I—it can wait. What did you want to say?”

He drew in a deep breath, attempting to calm the sudden explosion of nerves in his stomach. This wasn’t like him—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous about a conversation.

But this wasn’t just any conversation, and he wasn’t talking to just anyone.

This was River. Kind, intelligent, powerful River. The object of his desires that he’d pushed away for years. She was smaller than him, but he didn’t think for a moment that meant she was fragile.

No, River was a massive storm contained in a small package. His storm, if he had anything to say about it.

Keeping one hand on hers, with the other, he reached inside the suit jacket still on her shoulders. That stormy gaze tracked his movements as he pulled out the small box that he’d kept on him since leaving Lakewater.

It fit in the palm of his hand, and he cradled it, lifting his eyes back to hers. Her mouth fell open in an O, those luscious lips calling to be kissed. Begging to be tasted.

Soon , he told himself.

Soon, he would feel her lips against his. Those lips that teased him, taunted him. The lips he dreamed about having wrapped around his?—

Stop .

There was an order to things, a proper way to navigate moments like these. Even with his modest upbringing, Nikhail had always considered himself a gentleman. One step at a time. He would give her his gift and share his feelings, then he’d kiss her.

Or she’d reject him and leave him to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart. But at least then, she’d know where he stood, and everything would be off his chest.

One way or another, four years of yearning were coming to an end.