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A collection like this must have cost a small fortune.

I step away from the wardrobe and toward the enormously dreamy bed with its amethyst duvet reflecting the subdued flickering candlelight from the sconces on either side of the intricately carved headboard. There are all sorts of goodies strewn across the bed I had not noticed earlier—leather-bound diaries, fountain pens with tiny jars of different colored ink, and multiple balls of colorful yarn poked through with brass knitting needles. I spy several books bearing signs of use—yellowed page edges, cracked spines, and folded corners—and to my delight, plain white tissue paper and several bouquets of fresh flowers with petals begging to be pressed.

I pick up one of the books and flip through the worn pages. “Did Quill tell you to get all of this for me?”

Carver leans into the gilded vanity as if he’s admiring his reflection. “Of course he did.”

His. Reflection.

For what must be the thousandth time tonight, my eyes go wide.

“How is that possible?” I ask, awestruck. “I thought the silver used when creating mirrors inhibited vampires from bearing a reflection.”

“Enchantments,” Carver says, fixing a wayward tuft of hair. “That reminds me. I commissioned this for you from a friend.”

He pulls something from his pocket and tosses it to me. I catch it easily.

It’s a delicately crafted ring. Moonstone sparkles from the top, and a starry pattern curves around the golden band. Upon closer inspection, I see a phrase engraved on the inside—VITA SINE FINES.

“What does vita sine fines mean?”

“Life without limits,” Eivor says. “It’s the spell used to invoke the enchantment.”

Carver holds up a hand and points to the ring on his index finger. “You’ll be able to withstand the sun and boast a reflection, among other small luxuries, like a true mortal. I also had her enchant it so your… cravings around mortals are dampened. You will not crave their blood the way fledglings normally would.”

“Thank you,” I say, slipping it on. I brace myself for a sense of sugared magic to wash over me but it doesn’t. “Am I supposed to feel any different?”

Eivor chuckles. “No.”

Well, then.

“So… I should be able to see my reflection now?” I ask.

Carver nods and beckons me toward him.

A few cautious steps across the wooden floor and I’m beside him, studying my reflection for any trace of differences in my mortal body compared to my immortal one. My hair is darker against the newfound sheen of my skin’s paleness. It actually looks prettier this way. And my eyes—the ones that were once the same miserable shade as my father’s—are now more honey than hazel. It’s… interesting. My inspection dips lower to the new scars marring my once pure skin. Two thin slits on my wrists—proof I should be dead. And two pinpricks on my neck—proof I’m alive.

Well, as alive as a vampire can claim to be.

My fingers brush the marks where Quill’s teeth sank into me. They’re tender to the touch. “Why did Quill save me?”

Carver meets my gaze in the mirror. “You wanted to live.”

Is it really that simple? I wanted to live, and he made it so?

“Actually,” Eivor begins, “we technically didn’t save you, considering you’re as dead as we are.”

I flinch. He’s right. Vivvy went through with the rite, and now I’m dead.

But I don’t feel dead.

Panic swells throughout me as worry rocks me to my core. Will I regret my decision a month from now? A year? A hundred years?

You will have no regrets, love.

I startle and glance between the two of them, folding my arms across my chest. “How does Quill know what I’m thinking?”

“It’s a vampire thing,” Eivor offers, nearly mimicking Quill’s earlier answer to this question. “The vampire who sired you has access to your thoughts. He can speak directly into your mind, and in time, you will be able to speak directly into his.”