Page 37 of Stolen Magic (All That Glitters #2)

T he gardens were quiet in the early twilight, steeped in dusky violet hues and the perfume of soft-blooming vines.

Callan carried me through a narrow archway twined with ivy, his hold steady and his steps careful.

Already, the moment I was so desperate to recreate had shifted into something different—softer, more intimate, despite the magical chaperone that followed on silent paws, casting reproving glances at me.

But I could scarcely register Myst’s presence when Callan was so close.

The tranquil beauty of the grounds was lost to my hyperawareness of his proximity. I tried to calm the rapid pounding of my heart that had begun the moment he’d lifted me into his arms, but it was impossible with his warmth surrounding me, the rhythm of his breath brushing against my hair.

I repeatedly reminded myself that getting close to him was just a strategy—a way to ensure his affections remained fixed on me until I reclaimed what was stolen.

But now, enveloped in his strength, I felt anything but in control.

He held me with such ease, as if I belonged there…

and for a moment, I wanted nothing so much as to truly belong with him.

I wasn’t supposed to experience the affection I thought had died the day I lost Mother.

Yet with each step he took deeper into the garden, it became harder to believe his kindness was just a weapon to be used against me.

In this moment, as dusk fell around us and his arms remained firm and unwavering, I realized I had been so focused on pretending to win his heart, I hadn’t noticed how quietly he’d begun to carry the bruised, fragile heart I’d buried long ago.

His steady heartbeat thudded softly beneath my ear, and for a few precious seconds, I let myself believe it could be real—that he saw me , not the princess I impersonated, and that he would still hold me even if he knew the truth.

I rested my cheek against his shoulder, eyes drifting closed just long enough to pretend this moment wasn’t borrowed or built atop lies and stolen memories…

that I was someone who could build a life with the prince rather than the thief who’d stolen something precious from the very man I meant to deceive.

I reminded myself that as much as I yearned to remain in this tender moment forever, the spell over his mind was weakening—though he looked at me as if he saw a future of forever, one spark of memory from Gwendolyn’s eyes was all it would take to burn it all down.

But though I knew this tenderness was a mistake, I let him carry me deeper into the garden and into a memory that didn’t belong to me anymore and was gradually slipping away.

I forced myself to pull back in his arms just enough to regain the smallest piece of control. I couldn’t afford to be lost in this—not when my time as his fiancée was borrowed, and already running out.

His brows furrowed, as if finally noticing how lightheaded our proximity made me. His arms adjusted around me with gentle care. “My apologies, this position is likely not very comfortable,” he murmured, his voice as soft as the dusk. “We’re almost there.”

He smiled down at me and I carefully tucked it away in my undeserving heart. After what felt like an eternity he finally slowed.

“Do you think you can walk now?”

My first instinct was to plead for him to keep carrying me, but I forced myself to nod, swallowing the ache our separation stirred when he carefully set me down and steadied me on my feet.

We'd only ventured a few steps when I stilled.

I recognized this secluded path lined with enchanted lanterns from not many days past.

Desperation had sealed off the corner of his mind that used to preserve this moment, chasing away the memories of the true Gwendolyn to protect the lie I’d woven. And in doing so, I had destroyed a piece of us —a small, quiet moment I hadn’t realized I cherished until it was gone.

If he had forgotten this memory we once shared, what else had my spell erased from his mind? I needed to find out, even as the answer terrified me.

He slowed, bestowing the tender worry I so coveted. “Do you not have enough strength after all?”

As painful as reliving this moment would undoubtedly be, I needed to see if the place would stir something in him—or if it had only ever belonged to me and was now truly gone.

“I’m fine. I want to see the area that’s so special to you.

” With this reassurance we continued forward, each step along the cobblestones like venturing backwards in time to the first evening of our courtship.

It was like stepping into a precious dream whose details had been subtly altered.

Magic thrummed softly through the glimmering air.

I recognized the curve of the flowerbeds, the enchantment woven into the lanterns, the illusion-spell laced into the moonlight to coax the blossoms into bloom.

Yet this time the beauty touched me in a new way, different than before, evidence for my shifting feelings for the man beside me.

Wonder flickered across my face before I could school it away. He caught it and his eyes lit with the same quiet joy I remembered. “Beautiful, isn’t it? This is my favorite place on the palace grounds. There’s something here I prepared especially for you.”

The words were nearly identical to the first time he’d spoken them several days ago, only now they felt both more tender colored by all I was growing to feel for him…and more painful, because I wanted them to be directed at me, not towards the princess I was impersonating.

The soft eagerness lighting his expression was the same as when we had first stood in this alcove together.

But while I had experienced that moment with him once before, thanks to my magic it had become a memory that was now mine alone.

For the first time in my life I felt a stab of resentment towards my powers that had made this loss both possible and necessary.

If this moment was gone…what others had I unintentionally taken?

Magic tingled faintly along my skin as he led me deeper into the glade. At its heart, a pool shimmered beneath the lantern glow, surrounded by flowerbeds of pale, moon-kissed blooms, their petals unfolding like stars; I marveled at the breathtaking sight, just as I had the first time.

“Moonleaf.” The word fell from me like a prayer.

“I thought you might miss the flowers from your kingdom,” he said softly. “I know how strange it must be, leaving everything familiar behind.”

The tenderness in his voice pierced deeper than it had the first time he’d bestowed this tender gesture, for now I knew that for all my earlier cynicism, he meant every word.

I reverently caressed the velvety petals between my fingers. “Did I ever tell you what moonleaf means in my kingdom?” I asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

I swallowed the ache that rose as he shook his head.

“According to legend, long ago a young woman promised the man she loved that she would wait for his return when he left to fight in a war. He never returned, but no one could tell her whether he had been killed or taken prisoner, so she was determined to keep her promise and refused to marry anyone else in case he came home. Decades later she died, and the following night when the moon rose, these flowers bloomed over her grave. So the story states that these blossoms grow wherever a vow of the heart is made and kept.”

This conversation was vastly different than the one that had filled the forgotten memory; I hoped that by changing it, I could make it all the more real.

His eyes lit. “A vow of the heart…that reminds me, I have something for you.” Just as he had during the first time we’d lived this memory, Callan reached inside his cloak pocket…only to still when his fingers met nothing.

Confusion furrowed his expression as he patted his other pockets in search for something he couldn’t find, considering he had already given me his gift—the pendant I now constantly wore around my neck due to my subconscious need to remain close to him.

His gaze caught on the delicate chain around my neck, eyes filled with an unspoken question.

I hesitated for only a moment before reaching for the pendant and drawing it from where it rested, hidden beneath the fabric of my gown.

I knew showing it to him would only deepen his bewilderment, but I was desperate to awaken the lost memory magic had stolen from both of us.

His brow furrowed as he stared at it, eyes tracing the familiar curve of the carved fleur-de-lis. Slowly, he lifted his widened gaze to mine. “I don’t understand…when did I give that to you?”

The question hung between us. I opened my mouth, but nothing came. How could I possibly explain that he had given it to me during another version of this very moment—one he had forgotten because my magic had stolen it from his mind?

But I was tired of lies. I wanted to be honest with him…

even knowing that the truth might take me from him forever.

I drew a steadying breath. “You gave it to me the first time you showed me the moonleaf blossoms,” I said softly.

“You told me you carved it yourself, and included the sweet promise to become my husband in more than just name.”

I held my breath and waited, hoping the memory might stir the way his recollections of Gwendolyn had roused from the spell’s deep sleep, desperate for the moments we’d spent together to remain a part of him.

He was silent for a long moment, his brow furrowed in concentration as he fought to push past the fog blocking the memories from view, as if searching through a room with no light.

My hopes dashed when finally shook his head, shoulders falling slightly. “I’m sorry. I remember planning to give it to you, but I don’t recall that I ever did.”