in a sweep of dingy gray, they came rushing to our rescue when we were being chased by an army, and carried our pursuers away on a surge of rattling shells. I’m even more grateful now than I was then. I just hope no one saw anything.
“Don’t worry about the guests,” Jeb says as if reading my thoughts. “Your dad kept everyone preoccupied. He took them on a tour to the other side of the beach where the sailboats dock.”
Relief washes over me. But it’s only temporary, considering everyone is going to see me soon.
“Shouldn’t we address the flying elephant in the room?” I ask, flapping my wings.
Jeb lays his dripping shirt over the chair’s wooden arm. His Adam’s apple moves on a slow swallow. “You mean the fact that you’re the most radiant and magical woman I’ve ever seen?”
Woman . . . I don’t think he’s ever called me that. His gaze is so intense, my legs wobble. I inch toward the bed, needing its support against the back of my calves and thighs.
His gaze stalls on my blue lips.
I rub them. “It was dumb. I ate a cupcake that came out of nowhere . . . I know better than to eat anything strange.”
“No. Mort would’ve found some way to make this happen, with or without you eating anything. He’s making a point. I’ve proven my worth to be a husband to your human side by almost dying for you more than once. But he wants me to be worthy of your netherling side, too.”
My mouth gapes. “That’s what he said in my dream!”
Jeb frees the rose from his pocket and strokes one of the petals. “I shared his magic once. I know how he thinks. He’s proven his love for your human side when he wouldn’t let Ivory crown you and destroy it. So, he wants me to prove myself like he did. I’ve got no problem with that. It will be my honor to marry you today, in front of God and everyone, with your wings and netherling attributes in full view.”
As lovely and sincere as the sentiment is, I can’t get past the logic of it all. “But this”—I spread my wings out behind me and they cast shadows over both of us—“I don’t know how to face an audience of humans without giving myself away. This is impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible. You taught me that a long time ago. On the bright side, we know the effects of the cupcake are temporary. Morpheus cares too much about your mending heart to endanger it by ruining your ability to live a fulfilling life here.”
I nibble the end of my thumb, careful not to mess up Jenara’s meticulous French manicure. “Temporary can be anything from hours to a whole day.”
“True. It’s going to last through the ceremony at least. But we can handle it. Just let me worry about what everyone thinks or sees. I’m going to fix this with human ingenuity and a touch of magic.”
A touch of magic. “Wait . . . you’re not going to use your wish, are you?”
“No. I promised you I’d find the right time to use it. It’s safe still. Your mom and Corb are taking the mirror portals to a few costume shops.”
“For what?”
“It’s a surprise.” He glances over his shoulder at the door, then again at me. “I should leave before Jen gets back. I was supposed to just hang my shirt outside on the doorknob so she could fix the stains and iron it. She’s going to flip if she knows I looked in on you before the wedding . . . but I wanted to tell you happy birthday.” He holds out the rose, a bit too far away for me to reach.
“Come closer,” I plead.
His clean-shaven jaw ticks. “Bad enough I saw you. Who knows what havoc would be unleashed if I touched you.”
“Let’s find out.”
His expression grows fierce and hungry. He shoves the chair aside and starts toward me.
The gusts from the window pick up the scent of his cologne mixed with the rose he carries. He stops just a few inches away, free hand fidgeting at his side, as if considering his options. A sweet, torturous tension stretches between us—like the charged lull before a lightning strike. Three strands of my hair break free from the knot at my nape and twine around him and the rose. One brings the flower to me and I capture it in my right hand.
Jeb watches, captivated.
I try