Aiko said something else about the food, something I barely registered, and slipped past Wylfrael, leaving us alone.

I wanted to turn away from him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop staring at him.

He was exactly as I’d pictured him, bulk and power turned svelte by a perfectly-tailored dark suit. He even had the white shirt beneath, and the tie to match his eyes. His hair was smooth and tied-back, his leather boots freshly polished. He was stunning. He literally stunned me, left me still and stupid and breathless, unable to say a word.

Much like the veil, when Aiko had asked about what men wore to weddings in my culture, I’d figured she’d just been asking out of curiosity. Never would I have imagined that Wylfrael would actually agree to wear something like this, something human. I’d pictured him in a suit, but realistically assumed he’d wear his own clothing.

What did it mean, that he was dressed like a human man when he found humans so detestable and weak? Was it meant as some sort of taunt, like a predator turning the skin of its prey into a trophy?

Or was it an olive branch, however wilted and broken? A message meant for me?

When I found myself able to speak, that wasn’t what I asked him. Like an idiot, my voice sounding pathetic, instead, I asked, “Do you like the dress?”

The question had apparently been an invitation into the room. He strode in, his sky-fire eyes never leaving me.

He stopped before me, close enough to overwhelm me with his presence but not close enough to touch, and said, “Yes.”

My reaction to his body so close was instant and inescapable. My breath came quicker, my cheeks feeling warm. The time I’d spent in bed alone, wanting him to hold me even as I wanted him as far away as possible, had become a hard ache inside me. That ache turned sharp, like a blade, as I stood before him.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

I can’t believe after everything that’s happened we’re standing here talking about dresses.

“Yes. It’s perfect,” I said, smoothing my hands over the fitted bodice. Wylfrael’s gaze followed my movements, and his wings twitched, making air swish around me.

“Though, I have no idea what I actually look like in it,” I added. I could tell by feel alone that it fit beautifully, and that would have to be enough.

Wylfrael turned from me to face the nearest section of silver wall. He held up his hand, jaw tightening and eyes narrowing. Confused, my gaze went from him to the wall and then back to him again. He was doing something... Using his power to...

I gasped when I looked at the wall again. Where the rest of the room had a roughly carved, multi-faceted surface, the area Wylfrael focused on was becoming flat. Smooth. Something began to emerge from the wall – an image. Blurry, but growing more distinct every second.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Anyone who does not see you now, in your entirety, will have suffered a great tragedy,” was all he offered in response.

He’s making a mirror.

A few more seconds, and it was done. The wall gleamed, a perfect mirror, reflecting the two of us back out into the room.

I had been right about not being able to handle seeing myself like this. I clapped my hand over my mouth at what I saw. I looked like a bride. A real, actual bride. Like someone from a movie or a magazine. And there was my groom, alien and magnificent, not looking at the knee-weakening beauty of his own reflection but solely focused on mine.

I lowered my hand and forced myself to breathe.

“It’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding,” I offered weakly.

“I do not believe in luck,” Wylfrael said.

Normally, I didn’t, either. But at this point, I figured we needed all the help we could get.

“Besides,” Wylfrael said, “I wanted to give you this.”

Before I could see what it was, he lowered himself to the ground. On one knee.

It was a ring. He held it up between us.

“You remembered,” I said, shocked to my core. I’d only said the thing about getting down on one knee with a ring once. I’d never mentioned it again.

“I’ve already told you, Torrance. I remember everything about you. Everything you’ve ever told me.”

I swallowed, my throat feeling thick and hot, and stared at the ring. He held it up carefully between his thumb and forefinger so I could see almost the entire circle of it, even though it was so tiny in his grip. It was crystal, crafted with what looked like dozens, no, hundreds of minuscule shards fitted together, creating a rainbow of cascading fire all along the loop. It wasn’t gold, it wasn’t diamond. And it was more beautiful than anything I ever could have imagined.

“I told myself I would not do this,” Wylf said. “I told myself that the deal was done. That I would give you this ring, but I would not ask. But now... now...” His voice grew deep and raw. “Now I find that I must hear your answer.”

“My answer?”

A nearly imperceptible tremor went through his hand, his finger and thumb twitching against the ring.

“Are you going to go through with it, Torrance? Will you marry me?”

“Would anything change if I didn’t?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” he said. “My life would end the same, whether you marry me or not. I will not find my true mate, and I will go into exile to keep the Sionnachans safe from my mate-madness.”

“I wish you’d tell me why,” I said softly, even though I knew by now he wouldn’t. “Well, if my marrying changes nothing in your life, it changes things in mine,” I reminded him. “It’s part of our deal, remember? Finding my people, and my freedom.”

“No,” Wylfrael bit out. His entire being seemed to thrum with tension, tail fluffed up, wings pulsing, the ring vibrating with the pressure of his shaking arm. “No.”

“No?” I echoed. “What do you mean, no?”

Was he taking it all back? Had he just been pretending this entire time, dangling the things I wanted most in front of me like a toy I couldn’t have?

“I mean that I offer those things freely to you now.” Finally, he stood, as if he couldn’t bear being down on his knee any longer. In a movement that should have been graceful for him but was rough, nearly clumsy, he found his feet and grabbed my hand. He dropped the ring into my palm, then closed my fingers over it.

“Put it on, or don’t. Marry me, or don’t.”

What? What?

My heart slammed as confusion spun inside me, whipped into a frenzy by Wylfrael’s next words.

“I’ll give you everything, Torrance. Everything. Blast the bargain, I’ll still give it all to you. Safety. Your friends. Freedom. Without the council’s help, I can’t guarantee I’ll find the human ship in your lifetime, but I promise you that I’ll search for as long as it takes.”

“But... but the Sionnachans already think...”

“I can figure out a way around that,” Wylfrael grunted. “No other stone sky gods know that I’ve apparently found my mate. They would have found out tomorrow, at the gathering.”

“But... Skalla. Even if you can find him on your own, don’t you need the council to deal with him if he’s still berserk or mate-mad or whatever’s going on with him?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But I’m no longer willing to trap you in order to save him or anyone else.”

He’ll set me free.

He would really do it. I could see it in the hard set of his jaw, his unyielding gaze. He still held my hand, and I held the ring, beautiful and hard, fisting it so tightly I knew it would leave a mark against my palm.

Any sane person would have taken his offer and run. No more being his little wife, no more confusion, no more fights, no more bargains or terms or kisses or loving him even though it didn’t matter, even though it meant nothing in the end...

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice falling to a choked murmur.