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He kisses like he knows he’s the only wind I need to soar.

And I kiss him right back, gasping at the intensity.

I almost don’t want to let go when he slowly draws back, his mouth red and his eyes raging with the same emotion threatening to rip me apart like confetti in the most wonderful mess.

“Gonna need that hand, Fliss,” he teases.

Sniffling, wiping at my eyes, I offer him my trembling fingers.

I can’t look away as he carefully plucks the ring out of the box and slips it onto my finger.

It’s warm like it’s crafted from love’s white-hot brightness. Its weight sits just right on my finger, this perfect presence that feels like an anchor holding me down, holding me steady.

I’m smiling my head off as I look down at it, glittering on my finger in the emerging starlight overhead.

“You know, Felicity Charter has a pretty nice ring to it,” I murmur. “I...I’m glad I know what happened to my dad, but...I’m ready to leave the Randall curse behind. And the Randall name.”

“You ask me, there never was a curse.” Standing, Alaska takes my small hands in his huge paws again. Just one of those hands could guide me anywhere, and I feel it as I look at him. “There was just the road that took you where you were meant to be, Fliss.”

He’s right.

I know he’s right.

But tonight, I feel like a fairy-tale princess, and he’s the charming prince who broke my evil spell with one glorious, sincere kiss.

Falling into his eyes, I can’t help but laugh.

There’s just too much giddiness bouncing around inside me, and I can’t stop it from coming out.

“Even if there’s no curse...are we going to keep the other tradition?” I sway closer to him. “Your timing’s good. Another week and the first frost would’ve killed all the flowers.”

“Got a better idea. Though the flowers would’ve been a good fallback if you’d decided you couldn’t stand to see another speck of gold again.” His eyes glitter with wickedness and humor. “Close your eyes and open your hands. Keep them together.”

I tilt my head curiously, wondering what he’s up to.

Only one way to find out...

Reluctantly, I let go of his hands and cup mine together, all too aware of the weight of the ring, trying not to fidget with it when I just want to touch it and never stop.

But I close my eyes and wait.

There’s a faint click, and then something pours into my palms.

Whisper-light at first, but growing heavier, a silky and almost liquid feeling like flour or sugar. I knit my brows together.

“What is that?”

“Almost done.” That weight in my palms grows just a little heavier before that clicking noise sounds again. “Okay. Open your eyes.”

I do, just in time to see Alaska closing a dark capsule with a few faint sparkles on the lid. The rest of its contents shine in my palm.

Gold dust.

Holy crap.

My palms are full of it, a soft mound of shimmering glitter finer than powder. The gentle evening breeze catches a few wisps and swirls it away from me.

I stare, my breath constricting.

“Is this...?”

“Real?” he finishes, chuckling. “As real as I am. It’s about all I ever found in that old mine up in Alaska. If you aren’t cursed, neither am I, but I figured there was no better way to let go of old memories and start making new ones.” He lifts his chin toward the cliff’s edge. “Go ahead. Make a wish.”

“I don’t need to,” I breathe. “I already have everything I need.”

But this handful of gold dust feels surprisingly heavy.

Like the promise of a bright future given form.

So, holding my hands up and smiling with a delighted laugh, I do it.

I cast it to the universe with love and dreams.

I fling the gold over the edge of the cliff, offering it to the wind.

For a second, it lifts up in an arc of beautiful shimmer like small granules of glowing sunlight—only for the wind to blow it back over us.

Laughing, we lift our arms as it glitters down in golden snowflakes, coating our skin, our hair, even clinging to my eyelashes.

As I try to blow it back, Alaska catches me, swinging me around and pulling me closer to him.

“My girl,” he whispers. “More precious than any gold ever pulled out of this planet.”

My heart might die.

No one’s ever told me I was worth more than anything.

And when he kisses me, all swirled up in gilded magic, I lose myself in him.

In that euphoric feeling—of belonging to someone who cherishes me, who sees only the good in me, who wants me as I am.

By the time we break apart, we’re a breathless mess, steaming our affection into the night with every shallow, excited breath.

But I think our smiles might be permanent.

Like an unspoken agreement, we lace our hands and turn to find the path—only to freeze at the bright snap of a camera flash.

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