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But when Lucy finally decided to wield what little strength she had left to attempt escape, Obedience took her bravery in hand and snapped it like a twig.

And so it was that Lucy’s rescuer removed her goose-feather bed and replaced it with metal bars. At last, Obedience stopped pretending that Lucy was anything other than a twisted experiment in dark magic. A mere specimen.

While Lucy continued to receive meals—meager though they were—secrets were missing from her plate after that. And their partnership dissolved before Lucy’s eyes, because it had never really existed in the first place.

She tried not to give up hope.

She filled her days with thoughts of her mother, her sisters, her father, her brother. She imagined their faces, how she might have her mother’s ears, her father’s nose, her brother’s smile—until her thoughts began to scramble like a ripped up painting, its irreparable pieces scattered across the floor.

When damp fresh air met her face for the first time in months as she was hauled into a carriage, she was barely aware.

She didn’t register the musty scent of a basement as she was placed next to a young man with honey-brown hair, a similar haunted expression in his gray eyes.

When she heard the screams, she couldn’t tell if they were hers, or his, or theirs, or if her mind was screaming at itself on the inside. She didn’t bother to wipe away her tears anymore. She let her cheeks bleed along with her heart.

She twisted her ring around her middle finger and slid little wooden pieces across a game board.

She remembered nothing and she dreamed of no one.

36

Iris and Blair didn’t speak much as they sipped their tea, both lost in their own thoughts. Iris’ mind felt worn, as tattered as the paper square at the top of her tea bag string that she’d been absentmindedly folding between her fingers as the silence all but consumed her. When she drank as much as she could stomach, she set her cup aside on the coffee table. The room was dark but for a small flickering candle and the faint moonlight filtering in through the curtains.

She slid beneath the covers, inhaling the flowery, freshly laundered scent of the crisp sheets. Despite the warmth emanating from the crackling wood stove, she shivered as she curled her legs up to her chest, her eyes falling closed as if coerced by gravity. A few minutes later, she felt the futon shift as Blair settled himself under the blankets beside her.

Her eyes fluttered open and she experienced a jolt when she realized just how close Blair was. He lay facing her with his eyes closed, his breath coasting over his pillow like a soft wind across a snowy meadow. In the semidarkness, he looked almost peaceful, but there was a crease between his eyebrows that told her he was still plagued by the fear that refused to let either of them out of its gnarled grasp.

Iris slid closer and pressed her lips softly to his forehead, just between his eyebrows. She thought of all the times she had wanted to kiss away his worry and been too scared to. If, God forbid, Blair was to lose his memory from Clement’s spell, she knew how much she would regret her former reticence, how she would resent the times she’d wanted to show him affection but had convinced herself it was safer to keep him at arm's length. She refused to let fear rule over her life anymore; that unrelenting emotion had guided far too many of her limited days on this earth already. In the span of a heartbeat, Iris decided that she would rather feel rejected than hold back the love she had to share.

At last, she let her lips fall away from Blair’s forehead and their eyes met, his pupils swallowing up most of the mist-gray irises in the darkness. His mouth parted in a soft gasp as her thumb rose to trace his lips.

“What if there was a way to make sure you won’t forget?” Iris whispered, so close she could feel his spearmint breath against her skin.

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to forget you. If the magic affected me…” He brushed his lips to hers, his words feather-soft against her mouth. “I know you’d help me remember.”

Iris threaded her hands through his hair, kissing him more firmly. Blair drew her to him. His warm hands pressed like a seal into the envelope of her back, trapping the memory of her inside like a love letter. His lips moved eagerly against hers, teeth lightly grazing her lower lip, making her shiver.

A flush crept over Iris’ cheeks and down her throat, warmth spreading through her limbs as though she had just stepped into a steaming bath. Blair shifted on the bed, his elbows indented in the pillow at either side of her face. His kisses grew more urgent, as though he feared she might be ripped away from him if he so much as allowed himself a moment to breathe.

Skin aflame, Iris ran her hands down his arms before slipping them underneath the hem of his shirt. Blair’s muscles spasmed against her hands. She fanned her fingers against his racing heart, feeling the way it strained against his chest as though it ached to break through his skin to be comforted by her touch.

Blair’s lips ghosted across her jaw, down to her pulse point, and Iris angled her neck, unable to suppress a tiny whimper as he drew her skin into his mouth. With a single movement, she pulled his sweater and shirt over his head. Her fingers curled around the belt loops of his jeans, and she tugged him to her.

A strangled gasp was expelled against her throat, and Blair froze, though Iris’ skin still blazed everywhere they touched. His gaze rose to meet hers, a crimson flush blooming across his face. “Iris, I…” He exhaled a shaky breath. “I’ve never…”

“I know.” Iris rested her hand against his flaming cheek. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t know if I can. I’m not sure I can control it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Iris’ lips formed a small ‘o’ of understanding, and she took a moment to consider his words.

But as she gazed up at him—his angelic features limned in candlelight, dimmed with worry—her love for him blossomed like a bouquet of roses across her chest. The trust she placed in him was absolute, leaving no room for fear; the certainty that he would never hurt her filled her veins like wine. Her head spun, her heart singing out against her ribs.

She wondered fleetingly how she could have gotten so lucky to find the one person she was capable of feeling this rush of emotions for, as rich and all-encompassing as an overflowing chalice.

Iris lifted herself up to kiss him. “I’ll take the risk.”

Blair hesitated, his fingers toying with the satin bow at the top of her blouse. She’d worn it to look presentable for Audrey’s dinner party that they were supposed to have attended, in another lifetime it seemed.