Page 58 of Bone Year

“What?”

“He said in light of that my father must’ve been anything but human.”

Jace thinks it over and shakes his head. “Mae, that’s... Do you have any idea what that means? What could he have been?”

“I don’t know anything anymore,” I stammer. “I thought I knew who I was. I thought I knew who he was, and now everything feels like a lie.”

Jace drifts close enough that his knee brushes mine.

“Hey, whatever your father was or wasn’t, it doesn’t change who you are. You’re still Maelis. You’re still the girl who used to beat me at races through the village and patch me up when I scraped my knees trying to keep up.”

I snicker, “Yeah, until your legs grew, and now I can’t keep up. I always let you win a few too.”

“Liar.” He grins. “You’re the most competitive person I know.”

The tension in my chest loosens a little. He knows exactly when to make me laugh.

“Can I ask you something?” I say.

“Anything.”

“What was it like for you when you touched the mirror?”

He scratches his head, thinking. “I put my hand in, and it was like…warmth, and then Flick was there. I felt him before I saw him, this presence that was suddenly part of me. It didn’t ask me questions or show me anything.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment. Poppy finishes her crackers and curls into a ball in her pillow nest, eyes closing.

“Mae.” Jace grows serious. “I’ve wanted to say something for a while now.” He reaches out and takes the pillow from my hands, setting it aside. “I keep waiting for the right moment, but there never is one, so I’m just going to say it.”

My heart starts beating faster. “Jace⁠—”

“I know you’ve been holding back. I know you’re scared of ruining what we have.” He takes my hands in his. “But I need you to know that you could never lose me no matter what happens. I’ve been yours since we were kids , Mae. That’s not going to change. I’m not asking you to love me back. I just need you to know you are loved.”

I stare at our hands. His are so much bigger than mine, warm and steady and familiar. Loved.

“I’m scared,” I admit, not looking up to meet his gaze, “of letting myself have this and then losing it.”

“I know.” He squeezes my hands. “You don’t have to figure it out tonight. I’ll wait. I’ve been waiting.”

I look up at him. He’s close enough that I can see the silver flecks in his blue eyes. I can feel his breath.

“Jace.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

I close the distance between us.

The kiss is soft at first, like we’re both afraid to break something fragile. His hand comes up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing my cheek, and I feel something open inside my chest, something I’ve been holding shut for years.

This is my Jace. The boy who used to sneak me honey cakes from his mother’s kitchen. The boy who held my hand at my father’s burial and didn’t let go until I was ready. The boy who has always been there, patient and steady, waiting for me to see what was right in front of me.

I kiss him back, and it feels like the most natural thing I’ve ever done.

Then it deepens enough that I feel it everywhere. His tongue presses in, and I part my lips, tasting him as he pulls me into his lap. One hand wraps around my lower back, and I close my legs around him. My arms go around his neck, and his tongue explores my mouth.

When we finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against mine. We’re both breathing harder than we should be.