I am triumphant.
And when Braxton’s mouth opens for mine, I delve into the kiss, reveling in the sweet burn of his lips, the tenderness of his tongue, the craving of his body pressed fast to mine.
I settle onto him then, opening myself to the unlikely miracle of the two of us having found each other against every odd. Anchoring my knees around either side of his hips, I trace the scrape on his jaw with the tip of my tongue as he groans deep in his throat and nuzzles my neck.
“What happened here?” He draws away, lifts the talisman from my chest. His finger gently pressed to the spot where the gold bars are now dented.
Instinctively, I start to tell him the story of the man who turned my own dagger against me—
Of my mask failing—
Of fighting for my life—
Of losing my talisman and forgetting myself—
Of the rush of memory that came with its return—
Of my strange ability that allows me to see through time—
But in the end, I decide not to share any of that.
There are so many ways I could narrate my story; this is the one that I choose:
“I lost it. Then I found it. And now I’m back here, with you.”
Then I pull him so close, his eyes no longer resemble a storm-ridden sea, but rather an endless night sky where the moon shines, a star twinkles, and the world brims with possibility.
End ofBook One