She took it.
Dante handed Alessandro his jacket to wrap around his waist. Bea started chattering about cleanup and repairs and all the practical matters that needed handling. Estelle watchedthem with ancient knowing eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
But Marina barely heard any of it.
Through the bond, she felt Alessandro’s love, pure and asking nothing in return. He wasn’t gripping anymore. He was just there.
Tomorrow they would face the full moon. Tomorrow they would make their choice.
But walking hand in hand through the clearing storm, Marina already knew what her choice would be.
The idiot who had crashed into her life and wrecked it and rebuilt it wrong and then rebuilt it again, better. Who had burned down hotel lobbies but also set her ovens to preheat every morning at 3:45 AM without being asked.
Together, they walked back toward town while the clouds began to part overhead.
By the time they reached the edge of Sweetwater Cove, the first stars were visible.
Alessandro’s hand was warm in hers. His scales had receded, but his knuckles were scraped raw, and she could feel the bruise forming along his ribs where Malachar had struck.
“You need ice on that,” she said.
“I need food. And sleep. And approximately six showers.”
“I can manage two of those. You’re on your own for the showers.”
He almost smiled. Close enough.
The bakery was dark when they reached it, the fire damage visible even in starlight. But the walls stood. And through the front window, she could see her grandmother’s photo still hanging on the wall, untouched.
Marina unlocked the door and held it open.
Still standing, she thought. The bakery. The town. The two of them.
Battered, scorched, and improbable. But still standing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The full moon rose over Sweetwater Cove, and Alessandro waited for the bond to break.
They stood on the beach together. Marina clutched her pelt, Alessandro still covered in ash and demon residue from the battle. The night was clear now, the storm having burned itself out along with Malachar. Stars scattered across the sky, and the moon hung massive and silver above the water.
Twenty-eight days since an enchanted latte had bound them together. Twenty-eight days of forced proximity, shared emotions, and the slow, painful process of learning to love someone you’d accidentally trapped.
The bond should break now. That was what they’d been told. When the full moon reached its peak, the accidental magic would dissolve, and they would be free.
Alessandro waited.
And waited.
The moon climbed higher. Its light painted the waves in silver and shadow. Marina’s hand found his in the darkness, tentative at first, then certain.
The bond didn’t break.
If anything, it felt stronger. Cleaner. The desperate, clinging quality it had possessed in those early days was gone, replaced by something that felt less like a trap and more like a bridge.
“It’s still there,” Marina said. “I can feel you.”
“I can feel you too.” Alessandro turned to face her, trying to understand. Her confusion bled into him, and beneath it, hope. “Maybe the full moon calculation was wrong. Maybe we need to…”
