“What—?” began the baroness.
But the first low, whispery note from Herr Schneider’s soul pipe silenced her before she could utter another word. Her mouth fell slack and her eyes widened as the note almost visibly hummed through her body.
Even Margaret felt the shivery force of its power as it passed her.
Closing his eyes, the soul-piper bent into his work. Long, bony fingers flew across the open holes of his pipe as the tune he played cast ribbons of desire through the air and wrapped them around the baroness with tangible force.
Her eyes glazed over, and she gasped with delight. Shifting in place, she turned to follow him yearningly with her gaze as he strolled slowly past her, playing that tempting trail of music that led directly to her soul...
And then she began to walk, at first slowly and haltingly and then speedinginto an eager, impatient stride as she followed the inexorable call of his soul-pipe towards the looming, waiting trees.
Leonie crossed the pathway to Margaret’s side in silence. When Margaret reached out a hand, the nachzehrer took it—but neither of them spoke a word as they watched the baroness take her final walk into the forest she had claimed to own...and to the Diamantensee, where the nixen would be waiting to receive her final visit.
The baroness had been wrong. Margaret’s heart was not too soft after all to bear hard decisions...at least, not when it came to the safety of her husband and her friends.
She waited until the piper and the baroness had both disappeared into the green walls of the Black Forest. Then she let out a sigh of relief and turned to Leonie, releasing her hand. “Which way?”
“Second floor, third door to the right,” Leonie said promptly. “Herr von Krallemann is guarding him, just in case.”
It was exactly as they’d planned, and Margaret couldn’t hold herself back at the news. She lunged forward to close her arms around the nachzehrer’s lean frame. “Thank you,” she whispered with all of her heart. “Thank you!”
She’d never had a community she could fully trust before. It was a gift beyond imagining.
Leonie froze for one startled moment—but then, rather than yanking herself free, she lightly pattedMargaret’s back with one clawed hand. “I told you,” she said. “You’re one of us now.”
Margaret had used up all her own words. All she had left to fill her was emotion—and it carried her aching legs up the winding castle stairs at a run.
The third door to the right stood ajar. Panic thrummed through her at the sight, despite everything—but when she pushed it fully open, she found the glass coffin still lying in the center of the room, safely protected by the windows’ thick, floor-to-ceiling curtains, while a long, rangy grey wolf lay on the ground beside it, ready to ward off intruders.
Margaret collapsed on her knees beside him. “Oh, thank heaven!”
Herr von Krallemann gave a lowchuffand then settled his chin back on his clasped paws to wait beside her for sunset to finally arrive.
In the hours that passed, Leonie visited several times with updates. Herr Schneider made another two rounds throughout the castle, ensuring that no one would wake in time to be a witness to their presence. A low, resounding “Cawww!”outside the window marked an update from Herr Fischer that Reflection’s Heart had been safely secured within the inn, as planned, to be returned to the nixen the next day.
Through it all, Margaret sat beside the glass coffin and waited, gathering her thoughts and making plans.
Finally, Herr von Krallemann rose to all four paws, gave a leisurely stretch, and then nodded politely toMargaret before prowling out of the room. The sun must be just beginning to set.
Margaret pushed open the coffin with trembling fingers.
Lord Riven’s eyes were closed; his face, perfectly still.
Then his big chest abruptly shifted in a deep breath—and Margaret flung herself forward to kiss him with all the passion she’d been storing up for hours.
He made a startled sound, but his arms rose to close immediately around her with that instinctive welcome she had almost come to take for granted. As he rose to a sitting position, she moved gladly with him, every brush of his lips and tongue a reassurance she desperately needed. When they finally fell apart, he looked around, taking in the glass coffin itself and their unfamiliar surroundings.
His eyebrows rose. “I take it you’ve been adventuring without me?”
“Oof!” She slumped, groaning. “I’ll give you all of the dreadful details later...but first, I have to make a confession.”
“Very well.” Adjusting his seat in the glass coffin, he shook his head in rueful wonderment and then pressed a final kiss against her hair. “I am prepared, no matter how radical it may be. Have you arranged for us to join the wild nixen in their lake for the next, distinctly damp stage of our honeymoon? Or comeup with a radical new scheme for us to sleep in coffins from now on as a scholarly experiment?”
“No and absolutelynot!” Margaret shuddered. “I never want to see another coffin again.”
“Mm.” He looked down at her with a small smile playing on his lips. “In that case, what are you so worried about telling me?”
Margaret swallowed hard. It was absurd to find it so difficult to force the words out now, after everything else she’d been through today. And yet, under his steady gaze, with the memory of everything that she had so nearly lost today...
