Heat pooled low in her stomach at the memory of that night in the stream—his bronze skin dripping, muscles carved by years of conditioning, the way he looked at her.Stop it, Vivienne! That’s not a good reason. Not enough of a reason to marry someone.
The priest cleared his throat, voice shrill. “Miss Banner, we need an answer.”
She glanced between them, the weight of their anticipation trampling her. Lewis. Cirrus. Owen. Each choice carried consequences. What if I pick wrong? Do I need to choose right now?
“I… well, I…” Her voice shook. “I can’t!”
Before the priest could protest, she ran. Vivienne tore down the aisle, past the startled guests, past the faceless crowd, and away from the men at the altar. She sprinted toward the vanished doors, desperate for escape.
A violent clap of thunder rocked the cathedral. The world lurched sideways—then vanished.
36
The scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine filled the air as Lewis sat in a wicker chair, fingers curled around the delicate porcelain handle of a teacup. Wisps of steam curled toward the glass ceiling of the royal greenhouse, the heat of the tea warming his hands. Sunlight streamed through the expanse of glass and metal, casting patterns of gold across the rough stone floor.
This wasn’t Verdance. He wasn’t scrambling for survival in the rainforest. He was in Vantner.
"What the fu?—"
"Daddy!"
A small blur launched into his lap, knocking the breath from his lungs. Tiny arms wrapped around his neck, squeezing tight.
Lewis’ entire body went rigid. He looked down to find a child, a boy. No older than five, with his same light brown hair, a mischievous grin, and green eyes. Not mine or Vivienne’s blue eyes.
A second small figure stumbled toward him, teetering on pudgy legs. A toddler with a mess of dark curling hair and golden-brown eyes identical to his own reached out, grasping his knee for balance.
Lewis’ mouth went dry. He knew every inch of the royal gardens and greenhouse, but this?I do not remember planting those.His brain had hardly begun processing when another voice drifted through the greenhouse.
“Sorry, honey. The sprouts are much faster than me these days.”
Bianca Kopfkino?
She swept through the doorway, a vision of elegance, a ruby red gown cascading down her frame. She tickled the boy’s sides, earning a squeal of laughter. “You two little rascals interrupted Daddy’s work, didn’t you?”
The children giggled and squirmed in her embrace, their delight reverberating off the glass walls. Biana kissed each of their foreheads before waving toward an older woman standing just outside the door. “Go with Nanny Kate,” she instructed. “Mommy needs a turn with Daddy.”
He would have been less shocked if the children had grown wings and flown away. Instead, he sat frozen, watching them disappear beyond the doorway. The moment the door clicked shut, Bianca turned back to him with a slow, warm smile. She slid into his lap, her fingers tracing idle circles over his chest. Lewis wasn’t sure if he was still breathing.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her voice a silk ribbon curling around his senses. Then she kissed him. Not a chaste brush of lips—a deep, searing kiss, full of heat and familiarity.
His stomach flipped, his mind careening into chaos.This isn’t happening. Except it is.
Bianca pulled away, searching his face. “You’ve been cooped up in here all week.” She pouted. “And we only have a few more months before things get even crazier.”
She took his hand, guiding it gently to rest against her stomach. Lewis blinked, hard. His palm pressed against the soft curve of her belly—rounder than he had ever seen it before. A tiny series of kicks reached out from beneath his fingertips.
“I think this one’s a dancer,” she whispered, grinning. “We’re about to be outnumbered.
Lewis’ eyes snapped to his left hand. A gold wedding band glinted, its delicate vine engravings encircling his finger like ivy.Holy shit. I’m married to Bianca and we’re expecting a third child. I guess I did plant those.His pulse thundered in his ears. This had to be a dream, a hallucination, something.
He struggled to find words, but his brain latched onto a single, desperate question. To the one person he was hoping could explain all of this. “Have you seen Vivienne?”
Bianca’s posture locked. The warmth in her bright green eyes iced over, her smile wilting like a flower caught in a frost.
“I can’t believe this,” she muttered, untangling herself from his lap. “You promised me, Lewis.”
His brows knitted together. “What are you talking about?”
