Her eyes shine with emotion, and I take her face in my hands, holding it like it’s the most precious gift, marveling at the impossibility of it all. Billions of souls in this world, thousands of lifetimes into which she could’ve come to this earth, and she chose now. She chose us. She choseme.
“I love you, Starla Milan,” I whisper. “You’re my light. My heart. My goddess. And I promise you, I’ll spend the rest of my life—”
“Okay, could thisgetany more disgusting?” Carly barges into our perfect moment like a cold rain, standing on the back deck and glaring at us, her nose wrinkled, arms crossed, hip jutting out, her eyes about five seconds from rolling right out of her damn head. “Seriously. I think I’ve just lost my appetite.”
Stevie cracks up, the last of the fading sun setting her eyes on fire, and in that moment, not even Carly’s bad timing and badder attitude can ruin things.
“Can we help you, Carly?” I ask, but there’s no malice there. Only friendship. Only gratitude. Only the possibility that comes from finally being honest with the people I care about and living to tell the tale.
Despite her mock sneer, I suspect Carly senses it too. New beginnings. Potential. And dare I say… hope.
“Isla asked me to tell you dinner’s ready,” Carly says. “She cooked her Nana’s jerk chicken. Apparently it’s the—and I quote—bomb dot com. I mean, who even says that? Honestly.”
Keeping my gaze locked on Stevie’s, I grin and say, “You tell Isla to save us some leftovers. Stevie and I have plans tonight.” I lean in close and whisper the rest, just for my girl. “Disgustingones.”
Twenty
STEVIE
Baz and I never do make it to dinner—not even for the leftovers, or for Professor Broome’s famous Prosperity Cake, or for the signature cocktails Carly and Nat created to compliment the whole meal.
Hours after our backyard reunion, we’re still lying together in the darkness of my Red Sands bedroom, moonlight caressing our bare skin as we gaze into each other’s eyes, fingers trailing softly over dips and curves, kisses lingering.
Tonight isn’t about recreating all the crazy, passionate moments we’ve already shared—moments that will be waiting for us whenever we’re ready. It’s simply about feeling safe and whole. About being in the presence of love without fear, without manipulation, without judgment.
It’s about picking up the broken pieces and making something new with them—something even stronger and more beautiful than before.
So that’s just what we do.
One touch, one kiss, one whisperedI love youat a time until we finally drift off to the incomparable lullabies of crickets and the soft desert breeze fluttering through the curtains, knowing that in this room, between Cernunnos and his Star, there is only love.
* * *
The next morning, we’re up before the rest of the house, slipping into the guest room downstairs to give Professor Broome a break and spend some time with Ani. He hasn’t awoken yet, but his color is looking better, his breathing soft and even. When I lay my head on his chest, the strong, steady beat of his heart thumps against my ear, and it fills me with the same sense of comfort and peace I felt in the cave with my Princess of Cups.
“He’ll be home soon,” I tell Baz. “I have no doubts.”
“Then neither do I.” Baz leans in and kisses Ani’s forehead, the gesture so soft and tender it makes my heart melt. “You hear that, Gingersnap? Get your ass home.”
We stay with him a little longer, taking turns reading him passages from theverynaughty vampire romance novel Professor Broome inadvertently left on the night table. We’ve just finished up a particularly juicy scene that left us both a little breathless when our phones ping with an official Academy alert.
Baz digs out his phone, his face falling.
“It’s from Trello.”
“What’s it say?”
“Esteemed students and colleagues,” he begins. “I regret to inform you that due to recent unforeseen circumstances, we have made the difficult decision to end our winter semester, effective immediately. Final exams have been canceled, and all grades will be determined based on work and class participation to date. Feel free to contact your professors directly if you have any questions about individual grading policies.”
“I can almost hear the collective cheers on campus.” I let out a sigh, leaning back on the bed next to Ani. “Honestly, I’m surprised she waited this long to shut things down. It’s just not safe, especially if Eastman turns out to be a traitor.”
“There’s more,” he says, continuing on. “Unfortunately, given the volatile and often violent situation escalating outside our boundaries, students will not be permitted to return home at this time. All students will be required to remain on campus, under the sole direction and supervision of Agent Eastman of the APOA, who will be implementing new safety protocols to ensure your safety. While these protocols may feel restrictive, rest assured they are designed solely for your safety and will be lifted as soon as possible. Until that time, we are requiring all students to remain within their assigned dorm buildings. With the exception of Hot Shots, which was damaged recently after a gas leak, restaurants and stores will remain open and accessible within each building, as will the common rooms. Students are not permitted to visit other dorms or access any outdoor spaces. The Promenade is also closed at this time.”
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “She’s going into full lockdown mode. People are going to freak out.”
He scrolls a bit farther down the message, his brow pinched with concern. “Most of you are aware of the ongoing investigation involving our former head librarian, Professor Phaines. I am pleased to announce that the investigation has come to a close, and I can personally assure you that Phaines poses no additional threat, as he is deceased.”
“Murdered, incinerated,andburied,” I say, happy to remind myself of my attacker’s multi-part brutal demise.
