Page 36

NICHOLAS

N icholas's fingers trembled as he arranged the last candle in the garden behind Moonshadow Apothecary. Six weeks had passed since they'd defeated the relic, and every day with Sylvie had only deepened the bond between them.

He'd spent all afternoon transforming the small garden into something magical by stringing fairy lights through the climbing roses, setting up a table with her favorite wine, and arranging dozens of candles he'd purchased from her shop over the past month.

Each one represented a different moment between them, scents that told their story: pine and cinnamon for their first meeting, cedar and sage for their first kiss, honey and smoke for the night in the woods.

The small velvet box in his pocket weighed a ton. His tiger paced restlessly within, eager and nervous in equal measure.

"Need a hand with anything?" Rollo's voice came from the back door. "Millie sent me to check if you're actually going through with it or having a panic attack."

Nicholas wiped his damp palms on his jeans. "Do I look like I'm panicking?"

"You look like you might shift and bolt into the forest at any second."

"That obvious, huh?" Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, probably making it worse. "I've never done this before."

Rollo chuckled. "Most people haven't. That's the point."

A small flame sputtered to life at the edge of Nicholas's vision, one of the candles lighting itself. Sylvie's magic, responding to his emotions even when she wasn't present. It happened constantly now, little flickers of flame whenever his feelings ran high.

"She's on her way," Rollo said, glancing at his phone. "Missy's bringing her back from dinner now." He clapped Nicholas on the shoulder. "Just remember to breathe. And maybe don't crush the ring."

Nicholas nodded, unable to form words as his friend disappeared back into the shop. He took a deep breath, inhaling the mingled scents of flowers and candle wax, trying to center himself.

The back door creaked open, and Sylvie stood framed in the doorway, her stormy eyes wide as she took in the transformed garden. She wore a flowing midnight blue dress, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders rather than in its usual knot.

"What's all this?" she asked, her voice soft as she stepped into the garden. Behind her, he caught a glimpse of Missy's silver hair before the older woman discreetly closed the door.

"Just thought we could use a quiet night," Nicholas said, crossing to take her hands, which were dusted with a fine layer of powdered herbs. "No relics, no curses, no well-meaning but intrusive friends watching our every move."

Sylvie's eyebrow arched. "You set up all these candles for a quiet night?"

"Well..." He gestured to the table. "And wine. And maybe...something else."

As if responding to his nerves, several candles flared higher around them. Sylvie glanced at them, then back at him, lips curving into a knowing smile. "Your emotions are making my candles act up again."

"Can't help it." Nicholas drew her closer, breathing in her scent. "You do that to me."

"Do what, exactly?" She tipped her head back to look up at him, challenge in her eyes.

Instead of answering, Nicholas took a step back and lowered himself to one knee. The tiger within him settled, suddenly calm and certain.

"Nicholas," she whispered, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Sylvie Sage." He pulled the box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a delicate gold ring.

It held no diamonds—she'd mentioned once how boring she found them—but instead featured a small amber stone that matched his eyes, surrounded by tiny moonstones.

"You turned my life upside down the moment you accidentally bound us together.

Everything since then has been... chaos and magic and the most alive I've ever felt. "

Every candle in the garden blazed higher, responding to Sylvie's emotions as tears welled in her eyes.

"I don't want to waste another minute not being yours in every way possible." His voice caught. "Will you marry me?"

For a heartbeat, she stood frozen. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him, taking his face between her hands.

"Yes," she whispered against his lips. "But only if I get to plan the whole wedding."

Nicholas laughed, relief and joy flooding through him. "Sweetheart, you can plan whatever you want, as long as I get to be the groom."

"Bold of you to assume I'd let anyone else have the job." She kissed him deeply, and every candle in the garden exploded with light, bathing them in a golden glow that matched the marks on their hips and the bond between their souls.

When they finally broke apart, Nicholas slipped the ring onto her finger, watching as it caught the candlelight.

"Just so we're clear," Sylvie said, her voice playfully stern despite her radiant smile, "I handle all the details. Every flower, every invitation, every magical precaution to keep things from going sideways—because with our luck, something will try."

"Whatever you want," he promised, pulling her into his lap as he sat back on the garden path. "I'm just smart enough to know when to let the expert take over."

She laughed, the sound bright enough to rival the candle flames. "Smartest thing you've ever said, tiger."