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Her gaze drifted slowly to meet his, the silence between them like a stone crashing down upon them.

She bit her lip nervously, then whispered, “Oh, fuck it.”

And in an instant, her hands were on his face, pulling him towards her, silencing any further words. When their lips finally met, it was everything they’d both been holding back—fierce and consuming.

He pulled away gasping, his chest heaving. “Take your ring off. I want to see you. The real you. Not this costume you’re wearing.”

She slid the ring off and quickly threaded it onto a thin chain around her neck. Her horns pushed through her lavender curls, and her sorceress skin changed back to its amethyst hue.

He tugged her close, their lips meeting in a fierce kiss, his hands gently cradling her neck, his thumbs pressing slowly against her throat.

He trailed soft kisses down her neck, each one punctuated by her soft gasps, her body leaning against the bookshelves as her hands clung to him, desperate to stay grounded. He felt like they were both teetering on the edge of something—something they would never be able to come back from, and he didn’t want to.

Oleander paused, just long enough to lift her effortlessly into his arms. The golden clouds that surrounded her body floated with a slow grace as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her breath hot against his jawline. Perine clung to him, pressing herself closer, as though begging him to stay with her. As though there was any chance he could pull away now. He’d been dreaming of this moment for far too long.

“Will anyone walk in on us here?” she whispered between kisses.

“They might,” he conceded, his voice low and teasing. “Do you want to head to my bedroom?”

Her response was an enthusiastic nod. Oleander glanced around the room until his eyes landed on the slightly shorter bookshelf, a detail so small that only someone who knew exactly what they were looking for would notice.

He searched for the dark leather-bound book, the one with the soft grey words scrawled across the spine. As he looked, Perine tapped his shoulder, holding out a small vial filled with a soft pink liquid.

“It’s a sobering potion to clear your head, just in case,” She hesitated, glancing around nervously. “I mean... Well, I’ve had a lot to drink, and I’d like to be able to—you know what? Take it if you want. It was a gift from Wisteria.” Her words tumbled out in a nervous rush. “I’ve already had mine. Which book are you looking for?”

Oleander smirked as he took the vial, drinking it quickly before turning his attention back to the shelves. “It’s a title that plays on the word passageway.”

“An ‘Introduction to Vestibules’, perhaps?” She pointed out a book with the tongue-in-cheek title written in an elegant sprawling script.

“That should do it.”

He pulled the book free, reaching into the empty slot behind it to find the hidden door handle. He pushed the bookshelf inward, and together they slipped through, the door snicking shut behind them. The soft glow of cerulean fungi lit their way as they navigated the passageway, hand in hand, until they stumbled into his room.

Breathless laughter bubbled from both of them. Perine looked at him, her eyes bright with a warmth that made him feel like one of her oldest, dearest friends. In another life, perhaps they’d always been this close—tangled beneath the moonlight every night, or off on research trips under a cheerful, golden sun. They would meet Brennessel for drinks often, and Oleander wouldn’t have been consumed by years of loneliness. Perine would be as ambitiously studious as she always had been.

In another life happiness would come easily, joy wouldn’t be something they had to fight for.

That thought shimmered through him, but Perine’s sudden leap into his arms wiped it away. His clothes were discarded haphazardly, her ethereal clouds carefully pulled from her body—her coronet of daggers gently lifted from her head and placed on the table beside his bed.

He laid her down on the mattress, pressing his body to hers. Her violet skin silky and warm against him, her breath quick and shallow against his cheek as his hands roamed over her. Everything about her was soft. Her moans, her skin, the curve of her waist, the way her thighs wrapped around him.

“Perine, darling,” he murmured, voice strained with desire, “we don’t have to do more than this. This can be enough.”

“It could be enough. But—” She scrunched her nose.

“But?”

“I’d like more.” Hesitating, she searched his face, lavender eyes wide. “Do you want more?”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

Without another word they crashed together, their kisses desperate and hedonistic, consuming them both.

She kissed a slow trail down his throat, her breath warm against his skin as she whispered, “If I have to give up my life, I can at least know I wasn’t scared to live it when I had the chance.”

He brushed his fingers down her back. “You can have the life you want, you know.”