THE NORTH WIND WHIPPED Rune’s hair across her cheeks. Lady’s hooves kicked the dirt of the country laneways. Fields and bogs and forests blurred at the edges of her vision.
I want all of you, Rune. Not just tonight, but every moment from now on.
She felt feverish. Possessed. Unable to stop thinking about what she and Gideon had done. About the possibilities she’d let herself want.
I am such a fool!
Rune couldn’t shake off the memory of his mouth trailing reverently down her body, or the tenderness in his voice as he whispered sweet things in the dark.
I’m scared, too, he’d told her.
We could trust each other, he’d said. As if he’d meant every word.
She let the tears fall as she rode, letting the wind dry them. She pushed Lady harder, wanting to kill the thing inside her that bloomed at Gideon’s touch. Wanting to put him behind her forever.
Rune had known all along that he was hunting her. That he wanted her dead. Gideon was nothing more than a cruel boy who liked to kill witches.
Sweet Mercy, why does this hurt so much?
Suddenly, Lady slowed. Rune palmed the tears from her eyes and looked up. She hadn’t even realized the destination she’d been riding toward until it loomed before her.
Thornwood Hall.
One of the stable hands saw her arrive and met her at the entrance to the house. Rune dismounted and handed him Lady’s reins, quickly taking the
steps past the two marble lions and through the doors.
Alex was in the hallway, speaking with a servant. The moment she appeared, he paused and turned toward her.
“Rune?”
At the sight of her tearstained face, his own darkened. Dismissing the servant, he moved toward her and took her shoulders in his hands. “What’s happened?”
She closed her eyes. Alexander Sharpe. The boy she didn’t have to hide from. Gentle Alex who would never hurt or betray her. The person she could tell anything to.
“You were right about Gideon. I’m done with him.”
A series of contradictory emotions chased each other across his face. Shock. Relief. And … something else. Something Rune couldn’t put her finger on.
“Did he hurt you?”
“What? No.” Not physically. “He …” She glanced toward the servant still lingering in this hall. Not wanting to be overheard, Rune took one of Alex’s hands and led him into the conservatory, shutting the door behind them.
“Your brother has suspected me this whole time.” Pressing both hands to her temples, she shook her head. She walked past the piano and toward Alex’s writing desk, pivoted and walked back again. “He was only pretending to court me because he thought I was the Moth.”
“Does he still think you’re the Moth?”
Rune thought back to the snippet of conversation she’d overheard. After waking in an empty bed and realizing it was midmorning, she’d dressed and followed the sound of Gideon’s voice downstairs. She’d only heard the end of his upsetting conversation with Laila and Harrow, but Gideon had seemed adamant: he didn’t think she was a witch.
“I don’t think so.”
“But you don’t know for sure.” “I …”
“Rune.” Alex’s voice sounded strange. Rune, still pacing, had reached the writing desk again. “Please don’t make me leave you here.”
She turned to face him. “What do you mean?”
“Here. On this island.” He started toward her. “If I have to leave you behind, it will kill me. Please come with me.”
She shook her head. “You know I can’t leave.”
Rune watched Alex reach into his breast pocket and pull something out.
Stopping in front of her, he reached for her hand.
“I didn’t think I’d have the courage to ever do this …”
She looked down to see him push a silver ring onto her second smallest finger. It was thin and cool against her skin.
“I have stood by for years and watched you strategically pick out suitors. I look at the men you choose, notice the ways they don’t deserve you, and wonder why you don’t see what’s right in front of you. But you can’t, can you?”
Rune pulled her hand from his, cradling it in the space between them, running her fingertips over the thin band.
What is he saying?
“It’s why you’re so afraid to look at me sometimes. Because I know what you are, and I know what you’ve done, and I love you.”
Rune’s heart fluttered in her chest.
What?
His face was inches from hers now, his breath warm on her lips. “I love you, Rune Winters. I have since the day I met you.”
Her eyes burned.
“I love you,” he repeated, taking her face in his hands. “Do you believe me?”
He loved her. Not like a friend, or a sister. But like a …
“Be my wife, Rune. Come with me to Caelis. Let me give you the life you should have had.”
One by one, the tears fell. Rune pressed her hands to her eyes to hide them. His wife.
Alex was her safe harbor. He was everything she didn’t deserve.
But do I love him?
As a friend, yes. Like a brother, definitely.
Could he be more than that?
Rune didn’t know. Maybe.
But there was a problem. He was leaving soon. Leaving for good. And she couldn’t go with him.
She stepped back, shaking her head. “If I went with you to Caelis, I would spend every day eaten up by guilt and self-loathing.”
“You do that now,” he pointed out.
She glanced away. “Maybe so, but at least here I can do something about it. I can’t leave helpless witches to be murdered while I live out some fantasy far away.”
“Rune.”
His hands settled on her hips. “Look at me.”
She dragged her eyes back to his.
“Do you think this is what Kestrel wanted for you? A life spent atoning for an impossible choice—a choice she wanted you to make? Do you think she wanted you to risk yourself again and again until the day they finally kill you? It’s time for you to forgive yourself.”
It wasn’t as simple as that. “I—”
“Cressida is alive and she’s more powerful than you’ll ever be. Let her take up your cause.” Before she realized what was happening, Alex leaned in. “She can finish what you started.”
And then: he kissed her.
Kissing Alex wasn’t at all like kissing his brother. Gideon was dangerous. Deadly. Literally hunting her. She could never be with Gideon unless she wanted to be dead.
When Alex kissed her, there was no hungry fire burning through her. No desperate yearning. No warm ache.
But there was gentleness, and comfort, and safety. There was love.
Maybe I could …
Alex’s hands trailed down her arms and settled around her waist, pulling her closer. When his kisses turned hungry, she leaned in, open to the possibility of him. He backed her toward the desk and lifted her onto it.
When he stepped between her legs, pulling her flush against him, Rune felt the tiniest spark flicker somewhere inside her.
One day, maybe, that spark could catch and burn into a steady flame.
“Come with me, Rune. Your grandmother would want you to be happy.”
Rune had no defense against his arguments this time. Nan had loved her more than anything; she did want Rune to be happy. And Alex was right about Cressida—there wasn’t a more powerful witch alive. It was silly to insist she could do more than the youngest witch queen could.
“You deserve to be happy,” he murmured against her lips. “Let me try to make you happy.”
Rune couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried so much in one day. “Okay,” she whispered.
He pulled back, lips parting in surprise. “Really?”
She nodded. “I’ll go with you to Caelis. I’ll be your wife.”
Alex wasn’t the strategic choice; he was the safe one. The boy she could be herself with. The boy she could actually share a life with—because he didn’t want her dead.
