LOGINKenna
“You’re not jumping like this,” Dad says sharply as he slams the door shut in the room he just booked for me in an inn in Opal Hill.
I tuck my trembling hands behind my back and squeeze my fingers to stop them from shaking. He spirited us here, thank the Goddess. If I had to spend another second in Evander’s company, I would have lost control of my already exhausted powers, but I’m still on the verge of dropping into my shadow, and Dad knows something is wrong.
His silver eyes–the same shape and shade as mine–hold my gaze with an intensity that makes me want to look away and submit, but I stand my ground.
“I want to go home.”
“To
PoseyWillow’s voice is soft. I press my phone to my ear with my shoulder, the recesses of the archives spanning out before me in dusty shelves and varying shades of black. I’m at least four levels underground, and the air is thin and murky as I zigzag, trying to find the table I claimed for myself earlier this morning.“So, wait, you’re staying with Aris?”“Yeah,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice low even though I might be the first person to take an interest in this section of the archives in like a thousand years. I balance the heavy books, standing on my toes to peer over the shorter shelves toward the lamplight that seems like it’s leagues away. “It wasn’t my decision.”“Tell me again about this Morgan chick. She sounds awful.”“She’s… gorgeous. Tall and lean, you know, like the models in your fashion magazines.”Willow snorts. “Come on, Posey. Their engagement is all over the news, but the royals haven’t uttered a word about it. Is he for real?”“I think so. I haven’t spoken to
ArisPosey’s cloaked in gray as she approaches the castle. I watch her through the window in my study, the way she’s swallowed by the faint moonlight. The last remnants of sunset have been washed from the sky, driven back by the stars, but it does nothing to light her path after a day spent doing whatever the hell she does at the temple archives. I haven’t asked in the few days she’s been here. I haven’t spoken to her at all since she arrived. She takes her meals in her room, just like me.Seeing her again was startling. Seeing her here, lit by silver shadows? She looks like she is meant for this place, which is only making this worse. The newspaper on my desk rustles as the house refills my glass of whiskey. I glance at the paper, at the headline on the front page, and stuff my fist in my pocket as I look away. “Prince Aris of Veiled Valley engaged to Princess Morgan Ravenswood of Celestoria.”I was not the one to announce it. Neither was my family. Which begs me to believe her idi
PoseySnow coats the ancient cobblestone in wet streaks of silver. Flakes stick to my gray wool cloak, the hood pulled over my hair, which is braided down my back. I blend with the landscape in shades of steel and ash, but my black boots catch the gleam of lantern light swirling a familiar magic that settles in my bones and turns my heart to dust. Roman walks beside me in silence, his phone screen illuminating the space between us in artificial blue-hued light. I try to swallow, but the knot of nerves pressing against my vocal chords makes it impossible. “He knows I’m coming, right?” I ask in a croak that sounds like a toad. Roman nods, shrugging a shoulder like this isn’t the end of the world as I know it. Like I haven’t spent three months in a purgatory of my own making because of the man who lives in the castle now casting us in its snowy shadow. The castle itself is something out of a gothic fever dream. At least a half-dozen spires stretch into the thick clouds, and four towers
ArisFour Months Later…It never snows in Veiled Valley, even in the winter. At least, it shouldn’t be snowing. Rain, yes. It rains often. So often, honestly, that I can tell what time it is just based on how the storm clouds begin to roll over the mountains with the promise of our nightly thunderstorms. But snow? I stare out the window at the silver landscape, narrowing my eyes at the guards posted at the gate. They’re just as confused as I am, but at least they’re enjoying it. “I think it’s a ridiculous name, but Soren has his heart set on it,” Maeve says from somewhere behind me with a deep sigh. “Can you imagine naming a child after a fruit?”“Is he particular to clementines?” Brie asks with a small laugh. “No, he doesn’t even like oranges. I have no idea what’s gotten into him lately, but when we found out we were having another girl, he pitched the name, and I immediately laughed at him and told him over my dead body, but he’s been calling her that, and now Fallon is calling
ArisRoman steps into the light of the kitchen, scanning Posey from head to toe before turning his sights on me. “I’ve been calling like mad for a day straight. Where’ve you been?”Posey shuffles her feet before stepping past me, but I stop her, setting one foot after the other, and let my shoulders hang, turning my skeptical expression to that charming smirk I’m known for. I have it down to a fucking science, after all, even if it feels strange wearing it now after so many days of just being… me. With her. Just us.Roman’s presence feels like an enemy has entered my territory and is currently threatening the woman trying to shrink into the shadow of the stainless steel refrigerator. I have no choice but to bite those feelings back.“We went exploring on the boat and got caught up in that storm a few days ago. I took her to the hunting cabin up north to ride it out.”Roman nods, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Yeah, I got swept up in that, too.”“Why are you here?” Posey says wi
PoseyThe fever returns in the morning when the sun rises. It’s thick and syrupy with no end in sight. I sit up, surrounded by sheets and pillows I don’t remember carrying up here from the couch. I’m wearing nothing but one of Aris’s cut-off T-shirts, which I don’t remember putting on. I rub my face on the worn fabric, inhaling deeply, trying to clasp onto whatever shred of reality I can find. All that takes up my mind is… here. Being here, in this cabin, with this man I’ve known my entire life. A man so far out of my league it’s laughable. The same man who made love to me last night like it was something fated. An act we’ve done a million times. Slow, tender, aching, the kind of touch I imagine comes from decades of knowing a lover's body. I’m delusional when I walk downstairs, my brain split into sections. Sex. Lust. Greed. Possibly, hopefully, a single shred of who I am outside of this heat, but that section is the weakest of all. Sunlight pours through the open front door, casti







