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Spring storms on the island were brutal. She’d never been able to sleep through them—either the noise dragged her out of bed, or the nightmares they always made worse.

Once, it had been the fire—the heat and smoke. Now, if it wasn’t the time loop—the feeling of being caught, trapped in a cycle that refused to let her go—it was the visions.

The Weave had bled into her dreams before, back in the palace. But at least then, she’d understood why. Understood the focus. And once she’d managed to rein in her worry for Skye, the dreams had quieted—still uneasy, but bearable.

All of that was gone now—every coping mechanism scattered. Every night brought a new barrage of vivid, searing images she couldn’t parse. Strangers’ faces. Unfamiliar cities. Moments stolen from futures that might never come.

That’s what gnawed at her—the not knowing . Because her dreams weren’t just dreams anymore. She needed to know.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Skye’s voice rumbled close to her ear.

She shook her head. “I can barely remember it now.”

“I told you to wake me next time.”

Skye was no stranger to her nightmares. Growing up, his room was right across the hall, giving him a front-row seat to every terror that stalked her through the night. And while it was sweet that he still wanted to help her, they weren’t kids anymore.

“There’s no reason for both of us to lose sleep,” she said.

“Right, because I’m supposed to sleep soundly while you play dodge-the-lightning.” His tone was light, but something else was beneath it. “You might be immortal now, but you’re not indestructible.”

Taly would’ve rolled her eyes if they weren’t closed. Yes, spring storms could get nasty, but they were past the brunt of it. “I think you’re overestimating the danger here.”

“And I think you’re underestimating how easy it would be to get trapped beneath a fallen branch.”

Then his lips brushed her neck. A hot, sensual press of lips that lingered.

“It only takes a few inches to drown, you know.” His voice had that lazy, cocky edge that drove her crazy. “Immortal, Fey, only to drown in a puddle?” He smirked against her pulse. “Pretty pathetic way to go out. Just saying.”

Taly swallowed, refusing to react, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

She knew what he was doing.

And she would’ve fired back something effortlessly witty and brilliant, obviously —if not for the distracting heat of his lips against her skin. Every teasing press seemed designed to steal her words, unravel her resolve, and leave her wits scattered.

“You’re still adjusting to being outside the time loop,” he murmured. “You haven’t slept for more than a handful of hours since we left it.”

“I can’t control when I have nightmares,” she shot back breathlessly.

“But you can wake me.”

She walked right into that one, admittedly. And once more, Skye stole away any clever comeback, dragging his teeth over the sharpened tip of her ear.

A sharp gasp escaped her before she could stop it. Fey ears were… sensitive . Truly, she had no clue why that little point connected directly to other parts of her anatomy. Only that the second drag of his teeth nearly had her seeing stars.

She twisted away, hoping for distance, for a breath of clarity—

And instead turned right into him.

Their lips nearly brushed. Liquid, green eyes pinned her. He had a way of looking at her now, like she was something precious. Something a little wild that he meant to have

A shiver slid down her spine. She’d imagined this, every night while the world fell apart outside her window—what it would be like to finally be with him, to find out what came after that kiss in the library.

But this was nothing like the soft, weightless fantasy she’d clung to in the dark.

This was real, and it was electric. Sparking not on her skin, but beneath it, threading through her veins.

Every inch between them made the current stronger, like it needed touch to ground it.

“Just wake me next time,” he commanded gently.

Did he feel it too? That building charge as his mouth hovered just a breath away from hers.

“Say it, Tink.”

Maybe , she thought. With the way he teased her, grazing his mouth over hers and dragging sparks in his wake—maybe he could feel it.

“Fine,” she conceded.

“Fine what?”

“I’ll wake you.”

She caught the slight curve of his lips—the barest hint of a victorious smirk.

“Just shut up and kiss me, jackass.”

Skye threaded his fingers through her hair, the motion slow and deliberate. Everything else fell away.

The storm. The cold.

All of it faded until there was nothing but him—the warmth of his body, the heat in his gaze, the feeling of his fingers tightening as she let her eyes flutter closed—

“Are the two of you really at it again?!” Kato’s voice echoed up.

Skye growled as Taly sighed, the moment ruined.

“Some of us are dying. And by some of us, I mean me.”

Kato’s tone was so drenched in melodrama that Taly pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not it,” she muttered.

“I took care of him last night,” Skye pointed out.

“And I checked on him the two times before that. You know, when he swore he was being ‘devoured by despair.’ It’s your turn.”

Skye still didn’t look convinced.

“We can check the log.” Taly dug out a worn notebook from beneath her bedroll, flipping it open with a flourish. She skimmed, then grinned, holding it up to show him. “Told you. Your turn.”

Skye sighed, taking the notebook and glaring over the rim. “You just love being right, don’t you?”

“It’s one of my greatest joys,” she said sweetly. “Now go deal with him before his whining gets worse.”

But Skye fell back on his bedroll, flipping the page instead. “First Night Checklist.”

Oh no… Taly’s stomach twisted with horror.

She snatched at the notebook, but he held it out of reach, still reading.

“A shower, a bed that doesn’t smell like damp hay, candles, wine, lots of wine …”

She lunged for the notebook, but his arms were longer. “Taly, I never knew you were so romantic.”

“Skye, I swear, give it back or—”

“Or what?” He smirked, dodging her next grab.

She followed, undeterred, reaching—climbing over him without thought, chasing his retreat. Her knee slid up beside his hip. One hand braced against the bedroll, the other stretching past him—

Then his breath hitched. His hand settled at her waist, not pushing, not pulling. Just holding.

“Careful, Tink,” Skye said, his voice lower now, rough-edged with something darker. “Unless you’re offering, you might want to watch where you put those.”

At that moment she realized—she wasn’t just on him. She was perfectly positioned, tactically aligned, cleavage deployed.

Heat flooded her face. Her stomach swooped. She went utterly still, as if not moving might somehow correct the situation. As if he might forget she was there.

“Take your time,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her chest. He nuzzled the dip of her tunic, nose dragging along the bare skin between her breasts. “I’m perfectly comfortable.”

She wanted to die. Or kill him. Or maybe let him keep going. She wasn’t sure which.

“For the love of everything, quit flirting and get down here already! You two can make heart eyes after I’m not dying!”

Skye’s teeth found the edge of her stays and gave a playful tug. Her whole body lit up. But he finally let her grab the notebook, holding it for a second longer as he gave a slow, deliberate stretch beneath her—making her feel every place their bodies aligned.

Taly retreated to the safety of her bedroll. She turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see just how badly she wanted to disappear. Her heart was still thudding. Her skin still burned.

A tap on her shoulder. She turned, ready to snap at him—

But Skye leaned in and kissed her instead.

Everything else fell away.

The teasing, the embarrassment.

For a moment, it was just him, his warmth, and the gentle way he tugged her closer.

When he pulled back, his eyes met hers. “You’re such a jerk,” she muttered, though the edges of her mouth betrayed her as they curled upward.

“Should I start writing my will?!”

Skye sighed. “Duty calls,” he said, leaning in for one last kiss. “Also,” he murmured onto her mouth. “I noticed lingerie was at the bottom of the list. I’d like to put in a request to bump that to the top.”

A pause.

“You read the whole thing,” she whispered, horror growing.

He only grinned wider. “You wrote ‘shave down there’ with three question marks,” he said, eyes dark. “You know I’m going to bury my face there either way, right?”

Cheeks flaming, Taly picked up the nearest object—a boot—and hurled it, but Skye had already dropped through the hayloft door to the ground below, his laughter echoing.