She takes a slow breath, steps forward, and the room quiets without a single spell.
“Thank you,” she says, voice steady. “Truly.” She looks over her family, her eyes softening. “This year has brought a lot I didn’t expect,” she continues. “Some difficult things. Some terrifying things. But it also brought me someone who stood by me even when I didn’t know what I wanted. Someone who stayed. Someone who fought for me. Someone I—”
Her voice catches. She turns toward me fully, and the world narrows to just her. “Someone, Ichoose.”
Heat thunders through my chest. The bond pulses—soft, then stronger, then burning bright and wild.
She steps toward me. “Slade,” she whispers, “I accept the bond.”
The rush hits us both at once.
Magic pulls taut between us—then surges, brilliant and unrestrained. Her power rises like a tide, luminous and warm, blooming against my shadows as if they’ve always belonged together.
A wind sweeps through the ballroom—not harsh, but cleansing—carrying the scent of pine and spellfire.
The curseshatters.
Not slowly. Not gently. But like a chain breaking under the force of her choice.
A soft gasp ripples through the room as golden sparks lift from Piper’s skin, swirling upward like freed fireflies.
Her eyes glow. My chest burns. The bond seals with a final, perfect snap—an ancient lock findingits missing key. She exhales, swaying slightly, and I catch her before her knees give.
Around us, the Bellamy family bursts into joyous noise—cheers, laughter, applause, warm magic sweeping the room in waves of relief and celebration.
The curse is broken. She choseme. And I realize, holding her against me, that this—this exact moment—is the truest magic I’ve ever witnessed.
I lean down, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “Piper Bellamy,” I whisper, “you’ve just rewritten the fate of your entire line.”
Her smile wavers, soft and luminous. “We did it together.”
Aunt Petunia dabs at her eyes dramatically. Rhea hoots. Elle fans herself like she’s overheated.
The room returns to joy and celebration as the orchestra swells into a jubilant Yule hymn.
And I stand there, holding the woman who just broke a five-hundred-year-old curse with nothing more than her heart…
While the ring in my pocket burns quietly, patiently, waiting for the moment I will finally ask her to be mine forever.
***
The applause is still echoing in my ears when I take Piper’s hand and guide her away from the center of the ballroom. She’s glowing—literally glowing—her skin lit from within by the bond, by her choice, by the new magic settling into place inside her blood.
I can’t breathe in this room anymore.
Not when every instinct in me screams to taste her gratitude on my tongue. To feel her in my arms without half the Bellamy family watching like happy vultures.
I lead her down a quiet corridor lit by floating candles, the noise of the ballroom fading intoa warm, distant hum. Evergreen garlands wrap the banisters. The air smells like pine and winter berries. The enchantments woven into the walls hum with old magic.
Piper laughs breathlessly. “Slade—people are going to notice—”
“Let them,” I murmur, pulling her gently but insistently until her back meets the wall. “You just broke a curse older than your bloodline. They can indulge me for five minutes.”
Her breath catches when I step closer. The light from the candles glints off her skin, her gown, the gold snowflake belt around her waist. My fingers find her hips instinctively, fitting there like they’ve belonged there from the beginning.
“You’re radiant,” I whisper against her throat, brushing my lips along the place where her pulse flutters unevenly. “I felt every part of that bond settle. Every piece. Every breath you took.”
She shivers—beautifully, uncontrollably. “You felt all of it?” she whispers.
