They’re beautiful.
She’sbeautiful.
My chest tightens, and the heat in my hands flares hotter.
This isn’t Riley.
This isBree.
And I’m not being forced to watch.
I’m choosing to stay.
Jace’s magic stirs in the room—cool currents of air swirling around them, teasing her skin in ways that make her gasp.
I see the moment he focuses it. The way her entire body arches off the bed, a shocked cry tearing from her throat.
“Oh god—Jace—what—”
My breath catches.
The fire inside me pulses in response—answering the spike of need, the heat building between them.
I should leave.
But I don’t.
I step forward instead.
One step. Then another.
The floorboards creak under my weight, and they both freeze.
Jace’s head snaps toward me, eyes wide.
For half a second, I see it—the shame crashing over him. The memory of Riley.
Not again.
But I’m not here to hurt him.
I’m not here to take anything.
Not this time.
I’m here because Ichooseto be.
Bree shifts, reaching for the sheet and drawing it loosely over her chest as Jace moves. The movement is careful. Bashful.
Nothing like Riley.
She stands slowly, the sheet draping around her like a cloak, and crosses the room toward me.
I can’t move. Can’t breathe.
She stops just in front of me, one hand holding the fabric in place, the other reaching for my wrist.
Her touch is warm. Solid. Alive.
