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C ora was ready.

She was .

She really, truly was.

At least, she figured if she kept telling herself that, she might be. Dinner had ended an hour ago. Her maids had already been dismissed after assisting with her bath. The evening was creeping toward midnight, and Cora worried that if she waited too much longer, Teryn would give up on her coming at all.

She couldn’t dally. What good was pacing around her room doing? She thought she needed to practice what she wanted to say, but she’d been doing that for months, and when it had finally come time to see Teryn, she hadn’t been able to convey any of the things she’d intended to.

It was now or never.

Cora brushed her damp palms over the front of her cream velvet robe. Beneath it, she wore an ivory silk chemise trimmed with lace. She tried not to overthink what it meant that she was about to visit her fiancé in her underclothes, for what else could she do? She couldn’t have asked her ladies to lace her back into her dinner gown after her bath. Moreover, to say certain thoughts weren’t on her mind would be a lie. And after their kiss earlier, after the way he’d demanded she say his name, the way he’d propped her on that dresser, she knew those things were on his mind too. But as long as Teryn didn’t pounce on her the second she arrived, she’d have a chance to accomplish her mission before being swept up in desire again.

In the meantime, she tugged the neck of her gown a little closer and tied the sash around her waist a tad tighter. Then, closing her eyes, she thought of Teryn.

When her mind raced forward to how their conversation might go, she drew it back and settled her thoughts in the past, at dinner. She recalled the warmth of his fingers laced with hers, his steady, anchoring touch. She imagined the way his skin felt beneath her palm. As her nerves settled, allowing her to fully focus on her magic, she pictured his bedroom. She imagined it much like it had looked earlier, but this time she envisioned it under a blanket of night. Curtains drawn, the lighting dim, the glow of a single lamp warming the walls. She felt like she was there. Felt Teryn’s presence, his nearness.

Then she took a step.

Felt the distance between their rooms fold until it was merely a hop away.

And planted her feet firmly in her destination.

She opened her eyes to find she’d succeeded in her travels. Only, it wasn’t the dimly lit room she’d pictured. Instead, the bedroom was cast beneath a golden glow, the walls flickering with the light of what appeared to be a hundred candles. She was so startled by this unexpected vision, so distracted by the ivory flame-topped pillars that encroached upon nearly every flat surface, from the dresser to the nightstand to the bureau, that she almost didn’t notice Teryn.

He leaned against the far wall, one arm propped on a windowsill, ankles crossed. It seemed he’d kept his promise about wearing a shirt and had even managed to keep it mostly buttoned. He was free of his cravat and dinner jacket, the only other articles left of his evening attire being his trousers and open waistcoat. His pale hair was no longer tied back and hung loose like it had when she’d first invaded his bedroom. She was still struck by that moon-white hair, how it was neither thin nor fraying like she’d expected it to be. How it cascaded around his face in lazy waves. How it somehow suited him just as well as his golden-brown tresses had.

“You came,” he said, not moving from his place by the window.

She took a few hesitant steps forward, gaze flicking from him to the candles and back again. “You did all this? For me?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” He pushed off the wall and closed just as much distance as she had. Which was a measly three feet. Perhaps he was allowing her to set the pace between them. She nearly sprinted the rest of the way to him, jumped into his arms, and pressed her lips to that deliciously plump mouth of his, but she held back. She absolutely had to express herself through words before she turned herself over to her body.

“What do you mean it wouldn’t be the first time?” she asked. Then a sound tugged upon her awareness. “And is that…music?”

“It is music.” He angled his head toward the windowsill behind him.

Cora saw nothing but a long wooden box. “What is that?”

“Your wedding gift.”

Curiosity overtook her. She swept toward the windowsill, her heart racing with every foot of space she closed between herself and Teryn, then brushed past him. The sound was louder now, a sweet yet tinny melody that emanated from the box. The box itself was a long, narrow rectangle of black lacquered wood decorated with red-and-gold cherry blossoms. A jewelry box, perhaps? Teryn stepped beside her, and the scent of soap and pine filled her senses. He leaned in close and whispered, “Open it.”

She met his eyes, his smile, and her heart nearly burst from her chest. She was reluctant to tear her gaze away, but she was still so curious about the box. He’d said it was her wedding gift, and the music box was stunning in itself. But if he wanted her to open it, perhaps her actual gift was inside.

Dragging her attention from Teryn to the box, she brought her hands to the lid. As she lifted it, Teryn said, “I know we already chose rings from our royal collections, so I didn’t get you wedding jewelry. Besides, I thought this would suit you better.”

The music grew slightly clearer as the box opened on a hinge. Inside was a compartment lined with red velvet, and at the very center lay a stunning dagger. Cora’s breath caught at the beautiful steel blade, flickering orange from the undulating candlelight, but that was before she noticed the hilt. It was even more breathtaking, with a crossguard engraved in a floral pattern that continued onto the hilt. At its center was the most moving touch of all—a unicorn rearing back on its hind legs, mane rippling and merging into the floral engraving. Tears glazed her eyes as she ran her fingers over the design, marveling in its craftsmanship.

“You like it?” Teryn’s voice was edged with uncertainty.

“I love it,” she said, and her heart hammered at the word love . Slowly, she slid her gaze from the dagger to him.

“I had it made specially for you,” he said. “I wanted it to represent you in every way. Your beauty. Your fierceness. Your connection to Valorre. And…to me.”

“You?”

He reached for the box and closed the lid again. “Do you remember the first time you held a blade to my throat?”

She nearly barked a laugh that he had to specify the first time , but he was right to. He’d been on the other side of her blade more than once. She recalled their first encounter now, when they’d met by a stream. Teryn had almost thrown a spear at Valorre and Cora had stopped him by shooting an arrow at his neck in warning. It had struck a cherry tree behind him, pink blossoms in full bloom. After that, she’d confronted him with her knife and they’d had a brief altercation.

Laughter tore through her chest. “You dedicated my wedding gift to that moment between us?”

“The most important moment.” His eyes glittered with mirth as he lifted a hand and softly brushed it against her cheek. Her stomach fluttered, and it was all she could do not to angle her face and press her lips to his palm. She would not kiss him until she’d confessed her heart’s deepest longings.

But as she opened her mouth to just say it already, the words wouldn’t come. Was she supposed to blurt it out? Pair it with some sweet gesture? Sweet words? If only she were as thoughtful as he was. If only she’d had the foresight to have gotten him a gift that would render him speechless. If only?—

“May I have this dance?”

Her mind emptied. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed Teryn pull his hand from her cheek or step away. He now held the music box in his hand and was winding the brass key at the back. A cranking sound emanated from the box, but as he set it back down, the melody resumed. Cora shook her head to clear it. “Dance?”

He sketched a bow, a sideways grin pulling his lips. As he straightened, he held out his hand. What else could Cora do but take it? Her nerves settled as she placed her hand in his. He pulled her against him, too close for any kind of dance at a public ball. But here, in the privacy of his room, it was perfect. She kept one hand clasped in his and wound the other arm around his back. Then, turning her face, she nestled her head to his chest, the pound of his heart merging with the rhythm of the music box. Slowly they swayed, saying not a word for minutes on end.

Finally, Teryn gently loosened her arm from around his waist and guided her into a slow spin. When he reeled her in, her back was to his chest. They swayed side to side as he brought his lips close to her ear. “I never answered your earlier question.”

She shuddered as his breath rustled her hair. “What question?”

He spun her away from him again, then folded her back into his arms, their chests pressed together once more. Holding her eyes, he said, “When you asked about the candles, and I said this wouldn’t be the first time, I meant that I’ve done this for you before. Or something like it. Twice, in fact.”

“When?”

He grinned, and there was a bashful quality to it. “The most recent time was for the dinner we never got to have last summer. I had to coerce Mareleau into helping me organize it, but…”

He didn’t need to finish. She knew what had happened that night. She’d been an emotional wreck after remembering the curse Morkai had placed upon her, and Teryn had gotten captured in the mage’s crystal. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she’d never turned him away that night, if she’d gone to dinner with him instead of sitting alone with her pain, but it was folly to wonder. What was done was done.

“The first time, though,” Teryn said, “was when I asked you to come see me in the garden at Verlot Palace.”

Her heart sank. “The night I left. When I…when I thought you’d married Mareleau.”

He nodded, chuckling to himself. “I had the most ridiculous spectacle prepared for you. A candlelit alcove, a harpist, a table set with wine and sweets.”

Regret had never pierced her so hard as it did now. She had no clue he’d done that for her. “I’m so sorry?—”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, and there was only gentleness in his tone. “I’m not telling you this, doing this, to make you feel guilty. I’m doing this because I never want to miss anything between us ever again. Never want to miss any chance, any opportunity. Obstacles have drawn us apart, but I will never let them hold me back.” His tone turned serious, as did his expression. A fierceness shone on his face, one that told of the hardships they’d endured, the darkness they’d faced and survived.

The song began to slow, the mechanical melody reaching its end. They stopped their dance but neither stepped away. Cora’s heart raced, knowing it was time. She could feel the shift in Teryn’s mood as well as her own, something as fierce and sharp as lightning crackling in the air between them. Invisible layers fell away, confessions breaching the frail walls they’d both constructed to hold them in place. It was a mutual shedding. A mutual baring of souls. She knew this. Felt this.

Teryn stepped even closer and framed her cheeks in his hands. His eyes locked on hers, blazing with an emerald fire so heated she couldn’t look away. “I almost died, Cora. All of us have danced with death, you, me, Larylis, Mareleau. We don’t know what lies ahead and our time as living beings isn’t guaranteed. I don’t want to waste a single second of this life not loving you. Not showing you, in all that I do, that I deeply and steadfastly love you.”

Cora nearly sagged against him at the sound of those words. Her lashes fluttered shut as she let them wash over her. She’d known it in her heart, but hearing him say it— finally say it—was different.

“You love me?” Her voice quavered.

“Of course I love you.” Restraint edged his voice, as if he wanted to shout the words, declare them for the world to hear. “I’ve said it to you so many times in my mind, in my heart, but you never heard me. I fought to utter the words when my spirit was barely clinging to my body. I’ve sung it from the depths of my soul. I know you couldn’t hear me, but did you never once at least feel its melody?”

“I did,” she breathed. “I even sang it back to you. Just…just never aloud.”

He released a slow breath, then pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m still waiting to hear it,” he said, and this time there was a note of teasing in his voice.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Yes, now was the time.

She swallowed hard.

“I love you, Teryn. I’m sorry I’m not as romantic as you. I’m sorry I’m not as brave or eloquent with my words?—”

“No,” he whispered. Placing his forefinger under her chin, he lifted her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You’re perfect as you are. I want nothing more from you. Let me spoil you. Let me say the things I couldn’t put to pen and paper. Let me make a fool of myself before you. You don’t have to do anything in return. Just love me.”

“I do. I love you. I can’t even tell you how much I do.”

He sighed, and it seemed to drag years off his visage, making him look boyish and beautiful and carefree. Mischief worked the corner of his mouth. “Does that mean I’ve good and properly wooed you?”

Cora remembered the promise he’d once made. That even though they were engaged, he’d court her. That before they lived as true husband and wife, he’d win her heart, no matter how long it took.

She realized there was something else she needed to make clear. Placing her hands on his chest, she gathered the collar of his shirt in her fists and tugged him closer. “I don’t need you to court me or woo me anymore, Teryn. I don’t need us to take our marriage slow, nor do I want to. Do you understand? I’m already yours.”

“You’re mine?” She’d never seen such a gorgeous smile. His face lit up with it, with pleasure, with pride.

“And you’re mine.” She pulled him closer again, their bodies flush. The same fierce quality she’d glimpsed on his face earlier now burned inside her, sparking yearning. Now that she’d said all that she’d wanted to say, her body tingled with the desire she’d been holding at bay. It rushed through her arms, filling her palms. It coursed down her legs, gathering at her core. Gods, she loved him. Gods, she wanted him.

A look of surprise crossed his face. Then a question. “When you say you don’t want to take our marriage slow…”

She answered him with a kiss.