Page 135

Yet somehow, through everything, Gwyn never lost her softness.

She didn’t let their cruelty shape her into someone rough around the edges. Instead, she leaned into her kindness, her sure-heartedness. All that suffering revealed who she is at her core: someone warm and considerate, outspoken when others are not.

“What are you doing so far away?” Gwyn asks, voice sleepy. She props herself up on one hand, white hair spilling over her shoulder, and pats the mattress. “Come back to bed.”

I pad across the room as she lifts the covers for me to slide in beside her.

She stifles a yawn. “How long have you been awake?”

“A while.”

“And you’ve just been… watching me?”

“Black hell,” I say, pulling a face. “Give me some credit. I’ve also been thinking.”

“Thinking?” She arches a brow. “Thinking about what?”

“Well… What if,” I ask, drawing shapes on her smooth skin, “you become my wife today?”

Her silver eyes brighten. “Today?”

“Today.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, stroke the piercings lining the shell. “We could hold a private ceremony, just the two of us, in front of the Viretree. I… I don’t want to wait until midsummer. Fuck, I only set midsummer as the original wedding date because I thought it might give me enough time to convince you to be my wife.”

She reaches for her throat, for the ribbon that’s no longer there.

It’s puddled atop the bedside table, waiting to be used again.

My cock stirs at the thought of last night, how she let me tie her up, squirming in her too-small bed as I worshiped her like the queen she will become.

If she still wants to marry me, that is.

I keep my tone light as I tease her. “Having second thoughts, little witch?”

“Of course not,” she says, glaring at me.

Sovereign Sisters, I love it when she glares at me.

“Would you rather have a large ceremony?” She scowls, and I laugh. “Then what is it?”

“What if your people hate me?”

“They won’t.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“And yet, I do,” I say matter-of-factly. “I’ve seen how they’ve interacted with you during our outings. My people will love you, Gwyn.”

She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. Her gaze drifts out the window as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. Even her shoulders deflate as she pulls the sheet up over her naked body, a silken shield.

But mostly, it’s in her silence.

“Little witch.” I pinch her chin with my forefinger and thumb, turning her face toward mine. “I promise they are going to love you, probably more than they love me.”

“How can you be so sure, Riven?” she asks quietly. “I spent so long being hated by my own coven. I don’t want⁠—”

She cuts herself off and sighs, as if she’s defeated.

“Oh no,” I say, holding her gaze. “Finish your thought.”