Page 12

Zoya

" O h, Nadia," Mom whispers, dabbing at her eyes as Nadia steps out of the dressing room in her wedding gown. "Look at you!"

"Mom!" Nadia cries, fanning her face. "Don't make me cry."

"Oh my gosh. Neither of you should be crying. Weddings are supposed to be happy things," Innessa says, shaking her head at both of them before she breaks into a big smile. "But you do look beautiful, Nadia."

"Yeah, you do," I whisper. The A-line style wedding dress features off-the-shoulder sleeves and a lace sheath that peeks through the leg slit. It hides her little bump beautifully, not that I think she cares who sees it. She and Teo are thrilled about the baby. "Like a princess."

Nadia spins in front of the mirror, looking at herself. "I feel like a princess," she admits softly.

"It reminds me of your prom dress," Aunt Miranda says.

Nadia glances down, smoothing her hands over the fabric. "That's why I chose it," she admits. "It reminded me of who we used to be and how far we've come since that night." She chews on her bottom lip, eyeing us in worry. "Is it too much? Maybe I shouldn't be bringing the past into this."

"Honey." Mom rises from the sofa, pacing toward her.

"You two have a lifetime of history. Some of it is beautiful, and some of it is devastating.

But you two made it, and you're so much stronger for it.

You're proof that love can survive time, distance, and heartbreak.

The kids you were that night deserve to be remembered because those kids are survivors.

If this dress helps you remember them, then it's the right one. "

Nadia flings her arms around our mom, hugging her fiercely. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears. "For everything." Her eyes come to me, Innessa, and Aunt Miranda, who is dabbing her eyes. "All of you. We owe all of you so much for not giving up on us."

"As if we would ever," Aunt Miranda says. "Jason and I love you like you're our own daughter. We always knew you and Teo would find your way back to one another."

"And Teo is the son we never had," Mom agrees. "Now, he'll be our son in truth."

"I can't wait to marry him," Nadia whispers, a happy smile tipping her lips up at the corners. "I can't wait to meet our little girl."

Mom hugs her tight again, laughing. "I know you can't, sweet girl."

I watch the two of them, my heart aching in a way that doesn't make sense. I'm beyond thrilled for Nadia and Teo. They deserve their happiness. But…I don't know. All I can think about is Jareth. My feelings for him are so damn confusing.

I keep telling myself I don't want this. I don't want to be the one in love. It'll never be me in a wedding dress. But looking at Nadia, seeing how happy she is now…I'm not honestly sure if that's true anymore. Part of me is envious, I think. And I don't know what to do with that.

My life made complete sense before Jareth appeared in it.

I was going to finish college and eventually open my own non-profit to rescue wild animals being held in captivity.

That was my plan. Now, it's all confused.

I still want those things. But Jareth keeps hovering on the edges of my planned future like a specter.

Like he said this morning, though, this place is his reality.

It's his home. It's in his blood. And my reality is back in Tennessee.

Even if I do want him, it'll never work.

We're from two different worlds, looking for two different things.

That shouldn't make me sad because he was never part of the plan. But it makes me sad anyway.

He just had to kiss me. He just had to touch me.

He just had to keep showing up, wrecking my defenses.

Now, he's in, and I can't get him out, and I'm seriously worried that I'm going to end up just like Nadia.

Except there is no happy ending in my future.

There are just two different worlds and two people who were never going to work in the first place.

I'm going to end up with a broken heart. I can see it coming. But I think I may already be too far gone to stop it. Because I want him so damn badly it's driving me crazy. I want him all over me again and again and again. It's a terrible idea. I know it's a terrible idea…but I want it anyway.

"Maybe you'll be trying on a wedding dress next," Miranda says, nudging me.

I blink over at her to see her eyeing me with a bright smile. "What?"

"I said, maybe you'll be trying on a wedding dress next. You and Connor?"

"Yeah, maybe," I lie, glancing down at my phone like I'm checking it.

But I see my mom eyeing me, her expression full of empathy, like she's fully aware I've gotten myself into a situation I'm not entirely sure how to get out of.

The web I've woven isn't tangled. It's in freaking knots right in the pit of my stomach.

Yet again, I've made a mess of things.

"Um, I need to go," I lie, bounding to my feet before Mom can say anything. I don't have the heart to lie to her again. But the truth? Well, I'm not sure I have the heart to tell her the truth, either. Not when I know how it ends for me.

Jareth and I are impossible.

And somehow, I want him just the same.

I know I'm playing with fire when I slip out of my room in the middle of the night, too restless to pretend I'm sleeping. I pause outside of Jareth's door, contemplating pushing it open and stepping inside. But I'm not nearly that brave.

Instead, I scurry down the stairs and out the front door. He told me that if he caught me out here alone again, he'd do the same thing he did this morning. I'm not sure if that's what I want him to do or if I'm trying to escape the thought of it.

But when I don't even make it halfway down the path between his house and the guesthouse, and I hear his footsteps behind me, I'm not surprised. A thrill of anticipation goes through me.

I am in so far over my head.

I keep walking, pretending I don't hear him. Right up until he grabs me around the waist, pulling me off the path next to a shed.

I gasp quietly, my heart racing.

"I warned you, princess," he groans, burying his face in my hair. He doesn't turn me to face him, though. He just wraps his arms around me from behind, cradling me against his chest like I'm something precious.

So I spin in his arms, crashing my lips against his, driven by desperation and the wild spinning of my mind. It's been in snarls all damn day because of him. Because I shouldn't want this nearly as much as I do, but I want it anyway.

"Fuck," he growls, thrusting one hand into my hair to crane my head back. He licks into my mouth, setting every inch of my body on fire with his brandy and mint taste.

He pushes me up against the wall of the shed, boosting me up into his arms. My legs circle his waist, my hands tangling in his hair to keep him right where he is.

"I missed this fucking mouth today, Zoya," he groans, kissing me deeply again.

"Then do something about it."

"Plan to," he grunts, squeezing my ass.

One hand slips between our bodies, delving into my shorts.

"Fucking hell." His eyes snap to mine, his hand stalling in its quest. "You aren't wearing panties."

"I can go put some on if you prefer," I retort.

"Oh, you feel like being a smartass tonight, huh?" He parts my slit with his thumb, pressing it to my clit. "Maybe I shouldn't let you come."

I whimper in protest, ready to strangle him if he means it. I need this. I need him. My body literally aches for his touch at this point.

"Greedy girl," he whispers, reading the need in that sound. His lips touch mine again, his kiss wrecking me. Or, hell, maybe it's him wrecking me. Maybe it's the fact that he's relentless, and I love that. "You going to let me taste you, Zoya?"

I meet his gaze in the moonlight, my eyes wide, startled. "I…I've never…"

"Me either." He jiggles his thumb on my clit. "But I've had your taste in the back of my throat all day. I want more."

"Yes," I whisper, believing him. He isn't who I thought he was. He's something else entirely.

Mine, a little voice whispers. He's mine.

I think it might be right.

He grins at me, a predatory, wicked smile that has my stomach turning flips, and then presses a hard kiss to my mouth and lowers me down his body. Once my feet are beneath me, he drops to his knees right in the dirt and grass, looking up at me.

"Damn," he whistles. "You're even more beautiful from this angle."

"Jareth."

"I mean it, Zoya." He taps my hip, drawing me toward him. "Lift your leg over my shoulder. Hold onto the wall for support if you need it." His eyes glitter in the moonlight. "Don't let anyone hear you screaming."

Oh, my god…

I obey his instructions with my heart in my throat and a moan tumbling from my lips. The sheet metal is cool beneath my palm as I brace against it, but Jareth? He's hard heat, warm breath, and bad intentions between my legs as he tugs my shorts to the side, his gaze locked between my legs.

"Goddamn, princess," he breathes like he's looking at a masterpiece. "I can't wait to see you sprawled across my bed in the daylight, where I can see every inch of you."

I clutch his hair with my free hand, trying not to lose my mind even though he's barely touched me. It's him, though. It's the way he looks at me, the way he speaks to me, the things he says to me. It's like he knows I'm his, and he fucking loves it.

"Don't scream," he reminds me before yanking me closer to his mouth.

I choke on a moan at the first touch of his tongue to my clit. At the way he growls like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted. At the possessive way he holds onto me, his fingers digging into my flesh.

He licks me from top to bottom, groaning like he's in heaven. But I'm the one floating above the clouds. With the mountains on one side, the ocean on the other, grapevines all around us, and his mouth wrecking me, I'm on some plane of existence that shouldn't be real.