“It was nice?” I asked, hearing the lock on yet another future I’d imagined clicking shut. “Nice?”

“Yes,” he replied, his mask of indifference held in place.

“You said you’d never had it so good,” I whispered. “You told me it was amazing.” Rifts formed in my heart, the cracks spreading out as his expression remained stoic.

“It’s time to go,” was all he said as he headed for the door, grabbed my cloak and held it out to me. “You belong with your family. Not out here with the monsters.”

I took the cloak and wrapped it over my shoulders, hating this. Hating that I’d let him nourish me like a parched desert plain and now, with one fell swoop, he’d swept a hand and washed it all away. I wasn’t entirely sure what to name this feeling. All I knew was his cold indifference threatened to dissolve me into nothing.

Once I was dressed, we headed outside.

The world was covered in a blanket of sparkling white; the snow crunching beneath our feet as we headed for the pass and the doorway back to a life I thought I’d lost. One I was no longer sure I wanted.

We approached the narrow opening, the sky overhead grey and cloudless. The air was cold and damp, and I shivered the entire way, partly from the chill and partly from the pieces of my spirit crumbling away.

Wicked walked ahead of me, his steps full of purpose. We didn’t speak and while we drew closer to the castle, my stomach tied into knots formed from threads pulling in a thousand directions. I wanted to see Margaret and my parents, and even Ellis. But this forest and its secrets had filtered into my veins and rooted me to the earth.

When we arrived at the gates of my home, there was a shout as the guards registered my presence. Ellis flew out of the castle, followed closely by Margaret and my mother and father.

“Rowan!” He wrapped his strong arms around me and swung me around. Placing me back on the ground, his hands went to my face as he peered at me. “Are you okay?” I nodded as my family enveloped me from every side, shielding me in the cocoon of their love.

“We’ve been searching for you for weeks,” my father said. “There was no trace of you after that beast came back.” He spat the words out like they were bitter orange peels.

“I haven’t found a way to break the decree,” Ellis said. “I’ve had the overseers working around the clock, but it’s ironclad. I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

“It’s okay,” I said quietly, my heart bearing the crushing weight of all my sorrows. “There’s no need. He let me go.”

“He did?” my mother asked, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, thank the gods. You’re home, and you can get married and Rowan, I’m so happy you’re home.” She wrapped me in a fierce embrace, as everyone collectively mistook the reason for my tears.

I pulled away to say goodbye to Wicked, but when I turned around, he was already gone.

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Chapter Eighteen

“Come inside,” my mother said as Ellis grabbed my bag where it lay on the ground, abandoned by Wicked. I felt just like that shapeless sack spilling out on the snow.

She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and touched my cheek. “Did he hurt you? Did he—” she cut off, casting a side glance to Ellis and my father as if the question was too ghastly to ask in their delicate male presence.

“No. It wasn’t like that. I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.” At least not physically, I didn’t add, the pit in my chest throbbing.

We went inside, the scents of the kitchens and the warmth of the lit hearths enveloping me in a familiar embrace. My mother held my hand the entire way up to my room, where a hot bath was being drawn.

I went through the motions, bathing, eating, and readying myself for bed. As the sun fell, I cast a look out my window, yearning for a small, shabby room in the heart of a broken-down castle.

Wicked would be cooking for me right now, something hearty and nourishing. When we were done, he’d pull me onto his lap and kiss me and touch me in a way that made my eyelashes flutter and my chest fill with light. When Ellis bid me good night and told me we’d resume preparations for the wedding, I feared no one would ever make me feel that way again.

“That sounds wonderful. I’m so happy,” I said to him, our hands clasped as I swallowed the sour bite of the lies that tripped off my tongue.

For weeks, I moved about the castle like a ghost seeking its final resting place while preparations for the wedding drew into full swing. At night, I’d lie awake staring at the ceiling, my opulent bed the last place I wanted to sleep.

It was the night before I was to be wed when I slid out from the covers, pulled on my lush velvet robe, and sat by the window, peering into the shadows of the forest.

The moon was high; the snow reflecting a luminous glow against the sky.

A movement in the trees caught my attention. With my nose nearly pressed to the glass, I watched it. I knew that shape. The breadth of those shoulders and the cadence of those steps. My breath kicked up, striking me in the chest.

I didn’t stop to think. I stuffed my feet into my boots and then pulled on my cloak and sprinted through the castle. A numbing blast of cold greeted me when I emerged into the night and headed for the spot where I’d seen him.

My breath fogged in the air as I ran, my boots thudding heavily with the pounding of my heart.

“Wicked! Where are you?” Gasps sawing through my chest, I searched the shadows. “I know you’re out here.” I directed a look back at the castle. Sentinels would be keeping watch over the grounds. If I remained in sight, wearing my nightgown, and shouting into the forest, someone would alert the king, eventually. “I saw you!”

I plunged deeper into the trees, the darkness closing around me like a fist. “Please. Wicked.”

Finally, a form melted from the gloom, taking the shape of my desire. He wore his great fur cloak, his hair loose and blowing in the breeze. He was beautiful and brutal, and the sight of him sliced through every layer of feigned emotion I’d been building.

“Go back inside, Rowan.” His voice bore the texture of smoke and secrets. He came closer, moonlight reflecting off his strong jaw and high cheekbones. His dark eyes flashed, his mouth set into a grim line. “That’s where you belong.”

“What are you doing out here?” I pulled my cloak tighter, my teeth chattering. My feet were bare inside my boots, and the cold seeped in from the earth.

“Nothing.” His face was tense as his gaze darted to the sentries posted on the battlements. I rolled my eyes.

“You’re obviously lying.” I stepped closer, only inches separating us. My body drew closer to his like the sky pulling on the stars. “Tell me why you’re here.”

Wicked stepped back, putting distance between us. Refusing to let it hurt, I took a step closer. “What are you doing here?”

“Go back inside, Princess.”

“Tell me why you threw me out. Why you wanted to be rid of me so quickly after everything we shared? That meant something to me. Did it mean nothing to you?” My voice cracked, pain bleeding out between the syllables.

His jaw clenched, his eyes blazing. “No. It meant nothing.” I swallowed as the burn of his words traveled down my throat and squatted in my gut. “Go back inside, Princess.”

“No,” I said, sure I detected the same flavor of the lies I’d been telling myself for weeks. Sure he hadn’t been faking everything he’d said and done. “I won’t go back inside until you talk to me.”

“Then I’m leaving,” he said, turning his back and stalking into the forest.

“You’re not getting away from me that easily!” He didn’t stop, walking deeper and deeper into the woods as I trailed him like a persistent shadow. “Come back here!”

Finally, he stopped and whirled so quickly I crashed straight into his bulk and nearly toppled over. “Go back home,” he snarled, his teeth gritted. But it wasn’t fury in his eyes. It was panic and fear and an unmistakable tremor of longing.