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“It was fortunate we met by the wall of Tianxia.”

“Fortune had nothing to do with it.” I grimaced, recalling the spilled offerings and broken incense sticks. “Don’t you remember what I did to your shrine?”

His eyes narrowed. “Was that intentional?”

“For survival,” I explained quickly.

“The Winged Devils were there to snatch you away, to hand you to the Wuxin.” His face darkened as he added, “It terrifies me how close they came to succeeding. At how I almost lost you forever.”

“Fortunately, it didn’t work,” I reminded him. “I was given a choice.”

His fingers brushed the streak of white in my hair. “You aren’t immortal—not entirely. What did you choose?”

I raised my chin. “Do you think me a monster?”

“Never,” he said vehemently. “You are more than your face, more than your name. With you, I am whole.”

My heart was so full, I thought it might break. “The mirror showed me two destinies—one of the Wuxin, one of the immortal.” I braced, afraid of disappointing him to not have chosen the latter. “I rejected both. I could not bear either: the war, the suffering, the loss of countless innocent lives. Tianxia would be destroyed. There must be another way.”

Zhangwei took my hands, lacing our fingers together. “Whatever you choose, I will be with you from now on.”

I couldn’t speak for a moment; I couldn’t find the words to describe this unadulterated joy. How I loved him—even as I marveled at the depth of our emotions, jarring a little with what I knew. What could I not remember?

“I have my magic now. Some of my memories,” I said. “But I feel I’m missing something about us—something important.”

“Do you remember me?” he asked fiercely, his intensity searing me.

I searched for any recollection of him, yet nothing emerged beyond the glimpses I’d seen. We must have been close before—all the signs were there, those that had teased my mind: our inexplicable connection, our matched swords, the way he spoke to me that slipped into familiarity, the feelings that didn’t feel wholly earned from him, those I felt for him in turn.

Why couldn’t I remember? Had I truly forgotten? Or was it because these memories were so precious, so vital . . . I’d buried them far too deep.

“Not yet,” I said, biting my lip. “The Mirror of Destiny said it would take time for all my memories to return, to make sense of them.”

Light flared in his eyes like midnight fire. “Then let me help you.”

In one step, he closed the distance between us. He pulled me to him—not roughly, but not patiently either. It was like he was at the end of his tether, on the brink of snapping. I wanted this too, my heart racing as his fingers cradled my face. His eyes glittered dangerously bright—and then he kissed me. Our breaths mingled as his lips parted mine, a current running through me at the intimacy. I pressed myself against him, my arms arched around his neck, fire scorching my veins. Nothing mattered in this moment except the touch of him, his taste and scent as I inhaled, half-delirious with pleasure.

When he broke away, I wanted to protest—even as I was suddenly conscious of the thin robe I wore, the neckline gaping to reveal the curve of my chest. His gaze shifted, then darkened as he swung me into his arms and strode to the bed. This time, he did not toss me upon it but laid me down gently—almost reverently. His breath warmed my cheek, the scent of him suffusing my senses. His skin seared mine, hot or cold I did not know . . . just that I was burning all over, aching with need, craving more.

He lowered himself over me, leaving just a breath of air between us. “Liyen?” There was no sweeter sound than my name on his lips. “I want you.”

Yearning twisted me at his confession. I wanted him too, but the words stuck in my throat. I reached out instead, pulling him to me. His body covered mine, pressing me against the covers with his weight. My hands sought his, our fingers lacing as he kissed me again and again, our legs tangling between the silken layers. Hunger built within me, kindled from the moment he touched me. I drew back, tugging at his belt—unsure of what I was doing, driven by a primal urge to be as close to him as I could. A low laugh rippled from him, one that was almost a growl. If he was amused, I did not care. What was pride in this moment, buried beneath this relentless desire? Whatever this was . . . even if my memories were still hazy, I knew deep down that it was right.

I clasped him tighter, arching against him. One of his hands slid around my body again, the other sweeping the curve of my neck, his thumb brushing the sensitive hollow. His lips were soft yet firm, his breath hot against mine. Our tongues brushed, then entangled with hunger. We kissed as though it were our first and last time, and I never wanted us to stop. I wanted more; I would always want more of him, my heart beating to his. As his nails dug into my waist, I relished his roughness, his urgency. Beneath his hands, my sash broke away like a strip of paper. My robes were pulled aside, his mouth moving to my bare shoulder, seeking and hot. I curved closer, running my fingers along his back, winding into his hair that draped like silk over my face. I yanked his head back as I kissed the column of his neck, gripping his broad shoulders, feeling the raised ridges of old scars upon them—almost familiar, like I’d touched them before. How beautiful he was, how perfect. A guttural sound slipped from his throat, his hold tightening as he pressed me closer, one of his hands sliding up my leg, near the part of me that burned like liquid fire.

Only once, my mind surfaced from this haze as I clasped him tightly, moving to his rhythm. His breathing was as rough as mine, my heart pounding as his, my palms against his bared chest—his skin like sun-warmed silk. A headiness consumed me like I was drunk on wine, in a dream I never wanted to awaken from, a divine moment when reality is more wondrous than fantasy. We were so close, so intimate—we were as one.

“I know you.” My gaze searched his with aching certainty. “I knew you even before we met.”

He looked into my face, his eyes shining as the stars at dusk. “Welcome back, my beloved.”

Beloved.

The word resonated through me, healing wounds I didn’t know existed, making me whole once more. There was no doubt left in me, all of that had cleared away like the clouds after a storm.

This was happiness.

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