He leaned against a nearby tree, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I found this…I would have given it to you last time, but I misplaced it. You left it when…"
I opened it, pulling on the silk ribbon. The box was shaped like a wooden heart and my pulse began to race as I flipped open the hinged lid. Inside was a sparkling pendant. It was small—child-sized. A crystal butterfly that my aunt had given me on my fifth birthday. It was the only pretty thing I'd ever owned as a child, and when I realized I'd lost it, I'd been heartbroken.
I caught my breath. "I lost this—the day that my mother took me away from here. I thought it had disappeared forever."
"I found it after you left and kept it safe. I knew you'd come home someday. Last year, it was hidden among my things and I couldn't find it in time before you left again. But when it surfaced, I put it where I could grab it any time you called to me. I know how much you loved that necklace when you were little. I just wanted you to have it again. To have something to hold on to from your childhood."
As I cradled the pendant next to my heart, I realized that I was also holding my breath. And in the next moment, I heard myself thinking, I love him. I'm in love with Grieve.
My wolf stirred, and it felt as if it were stretching, luxuriously, enjoying the sun as much as I was.
Grieve glanced at my stomach—I was wearing a crop-top—and a slow smile stole across his face. "You're wearing my symbol. Cicely, you're all grown up now. Since last year, you've become a woman." His voice played across my heart as surely as if his fingers had stolen across my skin.
I shivered. "I had to grow up. I wanted to grow up."
"Are you still with your mother?" His eyes flashed. I knew how he felt about Krystal, but he seldom said more about her than to ask if I was still in her care.
I nodded.
"No matter, then. Come, let us walk in the wood and you can tell me what you've been doing the past year."
As he reached for my hand, I knew that if I gave it to him, I'd be lost. His voice set me spinning, and his scent was that of oat straw and apples and long grass after a cool rain. He watched me carefully and right then, I knew that he knew. He knew how I felt, and he was offering me more than his hand. He was offering me a chance at love, a chance for a life, a chance to belong to someone. He was offering me his heart.
I bit my lip, staring at his hand. The long thin fingers were delicate, and yet they could probably twist the head off an enemy. I knew that Grieve was volatile, but he'd always been just. And he played no games.
Do I dare? Do I dare take a chance on loving him? On letting him into my life? Can I ever have a life free of Krystal, free of the constant running? Do I dare choose love?
Ulean, who was sweeping along beside us, laughed, her voice tinkling on the slipstream. Dare you not?
And with that, I made my choice. As my fingers touched his, he enclosed them in his hand, then drew me to him.
"My Cicely. I will never hurt you."
He tipped my chin up to look him in the face, and I lingered over his beauty. And then, slowly, my world came tumbling in on me as he leaned down and his lips pressed against mine. The fire built as I slid into his arms, reveling in the feel of someone who wanted to hold me, someone who wanted to love me, someone who would never let me go.
"I love you, Grieve. I've always loved you—first as a child and now…"
"I am a Prince. Someday, when you're ready, you will become my Princess and rule by my side. Now that I have you back…" His voice trailed off and an odd look flashed through his eyes. "It's been so long, so very long…I've waited for you to return to me for so long."
"What do you mean? It's only been a year."
"No, so much longer than that." But when I asked what he meant, he only shook his head as his mouth covered mine, pressing his hard, lean body against me as he drew me into the kiss. The world began to spin. The pact was made as I handed over my heart to Grieve that day. And I knew that I'd never be free—no matter whether I was three thousand miles away or in the next room, I belonged to Grieve. And he belonged to me.
As Lannan left the room, I glanced at Grieve.
He motioned to me. "I have something to show you. It won't take long." He held out his hand and I took it, as he led me through the room. The others went on cataloguing our finds.
"Lannan is an ass. Don't let him goad you."
"I'd like to run him through, but you won't let me. But someday, I won't be so congenial and the vampire will find himself subject to a stake in the heart. For now, however, I will accede to your wishes." He led me to one of the doors near the back of the large room. "Close your eyes or I'll have to blindfold them."
Curious and cold, I obediently closed my eyes. I heard the door squeak open, and then Grieve led me through and the door squeaked again and closed. "We're almost there," he said. "Just a little bit farther."
And then I smelled something—it smelled like vanilla. Grieve took both of my hands in his, holding them by the wrists. He leaned close and whispered, "Open your eyes."
I blinked. We were standing in a small room and in its center was a claw-foot bathtub—it didn't look hooked up to plumbing, but there it was, filled with steaming water, piled high with fragrant bubbles. The room was lit by a good twenty candles, all white, as the scent of vanilla and gardenia wafted through the air.
"How—where…?"