Then Silas laughed again—but this time there was something different in it. Something that might, in a less bitter person, have been admiration.
"Very well." He straightened his collar, smoothing away the wrinkles where Thallos had grabbed him. "I can see when I'm not wanted. But this isn't over, brother. We still have family matters to discuss."
"Tuesday," Thallos ground out. "As your message said. Not before."
"Tuesday, then." Silas's gaze lingered on her for one more moment—assessing, calculating. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Bloom. Truly. I can see why my brother is so… captivated."
He turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows between the trees with the same unnerving grace he'd arrived with.
The silence stretched.
Then Thallos let out a breath that seemed to empty his entire body, his shoulders slumping, his head bowing forward. He looked like a man who'd just survived a battle he wasn't sure he'd won.
"Marigold." His voice cracked on her name. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have?—"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He flinched. "Because I was ashamed. Because every time I think about my family, I remember all the ways I've failed them. Because I was terrified that if you knew about Silas—about what he is, about what I've done—you'd realize I wasn't worth the trouble."
"The trouble." She turned to face him fully, her heart aching at the devastation in his eyes. "You think loving you is trouble?"
"I think I'm not the man you deserve."
"That's not your decision to make."
He stared at her, speechless.
"I've spent my whole life letting other people decide what I deserved," she continued, her voice soft but fierce. "My mother. My teachers. Every boyfriend who looked past me for something shinier. I'm done with that. I choose what I want. I choose who's worth fighting for."
"And you choose…?"
She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, feeling the roughness of stubble, the warmth of his skin, the slight tremor that ran through him at her touch.
"You, you ridiculous satyr." She pulled him down and kissed him, pouring everything she felt into the press of her lips against his. "I choose you."
His arms came around her—not gentle this time, but desperate, crushing her against his chest like she was the only solid thing in a dissolving world. He buried his face in her hair, and she felt the dampness of tears against her neck.
"I don't deserve you," he whispered.
"Probably not." She smiled against his shoulder. "But you're stuck with me anyway."
CHAPTER 24
The rage still burned in Thallos’s chest, hot and corrosive, but Marigold's hands on his face worked like cool water on a fever.
I choose you.
Three words. Such simple, ordinary words. But the way she'd said them—fierce and certain, her green eyes blazing in the twilight—had cracked something open inside him. Something that had been sealed shut for years.
He held her against him, breathing in the scent of wildflowers and something uniquely her, and felt the fury begin to ebb. Not disappear—Silas had ensured that wouldn't happen anytime soon—but recede enough that he could think clearly again.
"He'll be at my cabin," he said finally, his voice rough. "Waiting."
She pulled back just enough to look up at him. "You don't have to go tonight. Whatever's between you two—it can wait until morning."
"No." He shook his head, one hand still tangled in her hair. "It's been waiting too long already. Years. And now he's here, in my town, near you—" His jaw tightened. "I need to face this."
She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "What happened between you? And don't say 'nothing.' I saw his face, Thallos. I heard what he said. That wasn't just sibling rivalry."
