An ivy vine wove its way across my left thigh. Dappled with silver roses, it crossed my lower abs, extending to my ribs under my left arm. Interspersed among the roses was a trail of violet skulls, and right at my naval, a grayish silver wolf stared out at the world, his eyes emerald and glowing.

After that, I would feel the wolf shift and growl when danger was present. At times, when I was lonely, I talked to the tattoo, and it felt like the wolf was actually listening. And then, when I returned home for a brief visit a few months after getting my wolf tattoo, Grieve had met me out in the woods, and I realized that instead of trusting him like I had when I was a child, my heart had shifted, and at seventeen, I had grown up and was falling in love with the Fae Prince.

The Golden Wood was in full glory, trees thick with leaves, and the brambles were growing full with hard little berries that would burst with their rich black juice in August. The woodland smelled of sunlight and dust and lazy afternoons, and my feet were silent against the path leading through the clustered undergrowth that lined both sides of the trail.

Rhiannon opted to stay back at the house—she’d become reclusive, and I knew something had happened but she wouldn’t talk about it. All Heather would tell me was that there’d been an accident a couple of years back and Rhiannon wasn’t the same girl she had been. I wanted to ask my cousin about it—we’d always told each other everything—but whatever had happened this time seemed sacrosanct.

So one afternoon, late into the week Krystal had allowed me to visit, I wandered out to the wood where Rhiannon and I’d played as children. As I set foot on the path, the glimmer of sunlight swept me into a world far from the dirty streets of San Francisco, of L.A., of whatever city through which Krystal and I were currently prowling. They were all just names by now—one blurred into the next, and the one we’d just left was as indistinct as the one we were heading toward.

I stretched my arms wide, inhaling deeply. I’d been home the year before—my first time since Krystal dragged me off—and I’d cried when I’d had to leave. Rhiannon had been silent then, too, but I’d thought that she was just sulking over some argument with her mother.

It was during that visit that Grieve stepped out from behind a tree and I remembered all those long days of childhood, when he and Chatter had taught us magic, never straying out of decorum, never being anything but a safety net for us as I learned to speak with the wind and Rhiannon learned to harness the flames.

Letting my mind step onto the slipstream, I blew a low whistle, and whispered, Grieve, are you here? I’m home again. Come to me!

And a few moments later, the Fae Prince stepped out from behind a tall cedar. He was dressed in camouflage cargo pants, with no shirt, but I knew that his clothes were illusion. His platinum hair streamed down his shoulders, and his eyes glittered blue against the olive skin of his body. He was built, lean and muscled, and so alien he was exotic. Yet…alien as he was, Grieve was familiar to me.

“Cicely…I’ve been waiting for you.” His voice was strained. He wouldn’t stop staring at me and I began to feel exposed, raw. And then I noticed a box in his hand, wrapped with a ribbon.

“What’s that?” I pointed to the box.

Grieve stared at it for another moment, then silently handed me the box.

I stared at it. “A present?”

He leaned against a nearby tree, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I found this…I would have given it to you last time, but I misplaced it. You left it when…”

I opened it, pulling on the silk ribbon. The box was shaped like a wooden heart and my pulse began to race as I flipped open the hinged lid. Inside was a sparkling pendant. It was small—child-sized. A crystal butterfly that my aunt had given me on my fifth birthday. It was the only pretty thing I’d ever owned as a child, and when I realized I’d lost it, I’d been heartbroken.

I caught my breath. “I lost this—the day that my mother took me away from here. I thought it had disappeared forever.”

“I found it after you left and kept it safe. I knew you’d come home someday. Last year, it was hidden among my things and I couldn’t find it in time before you left again. But when it surfaced, I put it where I could grab it any time you called to me. I know how much you loved that necklace when you were little. I just wanted you to have it again. To have something to hold on to from your childhood.”

As I cradled the pendant next to my heart, I realized that I was also holding my breath. And in the next moment, I heard myself thinking, I love him. I’m in love with Grieve.

My wolf stirred, and it felt as if it were stretching, luxuriously, enjoying the sun as much as I was.

Grieve glanced at my stomach—I was wearing a crop-top—and a slow smile stole across his face. “You’re wearing my symbol. Cicely, you’re all grown up now. Since last year, you’ve become a woman.” His voice played across my heart as surely as if his fingers had stolen across my skin.

I shivered. “I had to grow up. I wanted to grow up.”

“Are you still with your mother?” His eyes flashed. I knew how he felt about Krystal, but he seldom said more about her than to ask if I was still in her care.

I nodded.

“No matter, then. Come, let us walk in the wood and you can tell me what you’ve been doing the past year.”

As he reached for my hand, I knew that if I gave it to him, I’d be lost. His voice set me spinning, and his scent was that of oat straw and apples and long grass after a cool rain. He watched me carefully and right then, I knew that he knew. He knew how I felt, and he was offering me more than his hand. He was offering me a chance at love, a chance for a life, a chance to belong to someone. He was offering me his heart.

I bit my lip, staring at his hand. The long thin fingers were delicate, and yet they could probably twist the head off an enemy. I knew that Grieve was volatile, but he’d always been just. And he played no games.

Do I dare? Do I dare take a chance on loving him? On letting him into my life? Can I ever have a life free of Krystal, free of the constant running? Do I dare choose love?

Ulean, who was sweeping along beside us, laughed, her voice tinkling on the slipstream. Dare you not?

And with that, I made my choice. As my fingers touched his, he enclosed them in his hand, then drew me to him.

“My Cicely. I will never hurt you.”

He tipped my chin up to look him in the face, and I lingered over his beauty. And then, slowly, my world came tumbling in on me as he leaned down and his lips pressed against mine. The fire built as I slid into his arms, reveling in the feel of someone who wanted to hold me, someone who wanted to love me, someone who would never let me go.

“I love you, Grieve. I’ve always loved you—first as a child and now…”

“I am a Prince. Someday, when you’re ready, you will become my Princess and rule by my side. Now that I have you back…” His voice trailed off and an odd look flashed through his eyes. “It’s been so long, so very long…I’ve waited for you to return to me for so long.”

“What do you mean? It’s only been a year.”

“No, so much longer than that.” But when I asked what he meant, he only shook his head as his mouth covered mine, pressing his hard, lean body against me as he drew me into the kiss. The world began to spin. The pact was made as I handed over my heart to Grieve that day. And I knew that I’d never be free—no matter whether I was three thousand miles away or in the next room, I belonged to Grieve. And he belonged to me.

As Lannan left the room, I glanced at Grieve.

He motioned to me. “I have something to show you. It won’t take long.” He held out his hand and I took it, as he led me through the room. The others went on cataloguing our finds.

“Lannan is an ass. Don’t let him goad you.”

“I’d like to run him through, but you won’t let me. But someday, I won’t be so congenial and the vampire will find himself subject to a stake in the heart. For now, however, I will accede to your wishes.” He led me to one of the doors near the back of the large room. “Close your eyes or I’ll have to blindfold them.”

Curious and cold, I obediently closed my eyes. I heard the door squeak open, and then Grieve led me through and the door squeaked again and closed. “We’re almost there,” he said. “Just a little bit farther.”

And then I smelled something—it smelled like vanilla. Grieve took both of my hands in his, holding them by the wrists. He leaned close and whispered, “Open your eyes.”

I blinked. We were standing in a small room and in its center was a claw-foot bathtub—it didn’t look hooked up to plumbing, but there it was, filled with steaming water, piled high with fragrant bubbles. The room was lit by a good twenty candles, all white, as the scent of vanilla and gardenia wafted through the air.

“How—where…?”

“While you were gone, I decided that you needed a hot bath to relax. I know you hate being stuck here, and I know how much the Veil House meant to you. And you do love your baths.” He pressed against my back, wrapping his arms around my waist as he nuzzled my neck. “The others know—we won’t be disturbed for a while.”

I sucked in a deep breath. As the fragrance of vanilla and gardenia washed over me, I couldn’t resist. I shed my clothes, shivering in the chill of the room. “You are the sweetest, most loving man I’ve ever known, Fae Prince or not.”

He smiled, looking satisfied. “I was hoping you’d let yourself enjoy this.”

“Are you kidding? Miss out on a bubble bath? With you, I hope?” And then I turned, pulling him to me by his collar. “Grieve, I love you. I hope you know just how much I love you.”

He took my hands in his and grazed them with his lips. “Trust me. I do, Cicely.”

“Join me?” I crawled into the big clawfoot tub, sinking into the water with a long sigh. Luxury—pure, simple luxury.

“In a moment. I have another surprise for you.”

He moved over out of the reach of the candlelight and I heard him tinkering with something as I leaned back in the tub, reveling in the delicious touch of the water on my skin. It felt like I was being cradled, rocked gently by the waves.

After a moment, Grieve returned, carrying a TV tray that he set next to the tub. It held a plate of Swirl-Delight Cupcakes, and a thermos of what smelled like peppermint tea.

“I’m sorry it’s nothing more than some junk food but…”

Grinning like a crazy woman, I wiped my hands on the towel next to the tub and grabbed a cupcake. “Are you nuts? These are golden! Now get in here.”

Grieve laughed, and just like that, he was naked. He crawled in the tub with me and sank back, a wicked smile on his face. “This is what I like. You and me in hot water together.” He shook his head. “How can you eat that? It’s nothing but sugar and fluff.”

“I like sugar and fluff.” I bit into the cupcake and closed my eyes. The next moment, I felt a hand under the water, rubbing my leg. “That feels so good. I just want to float here in the warm bubbles forever and forget the world outside.”

“I’m afraid we cannot do that, but for the moment, we can ignore the world.” And then he leaned forward between my legs, kissing me, pressing me back against the tub. The kiss went on and on, dizzying and deep and filled with his hunger.

Before I realized what we were doing, he slid inside me, moving slowly, the water rippling at our sides, splashing over the sides in little drips and drops. I closed my eyes, thrilling to our slow rhythm and the comforting scents and the candlelight.

“This night was not meant to be for sex,” he whispered. “This was meant to give you a rest. But I need you now. I need to be inside you.”

“Sex is okay.” I kissed his nose. “Sex is good, and sometimes sex in the tub is the best.” I popped another bite of the cupcake into my mouth. Feeling almost giddy, I laughed. “And sex and chocolate are really good.”

“Give me a bite.” Grieve’s starlit eyes flashed and his teeth shimmered in the dim light. He was dangerous and fierce yet…yet…he was my Grieve.

“I thought you didn’t like sugar and fluff,” I teased him, holding the cupcake just out of his reach.

“The sweeter the bite, the more delicate the blood.” And then he snapped at my fingers, playfully nibbling on them, drawing the cake into his mouth. A crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth and I moved forward, my gaze never leaving his, and licked it off. As I leaned back, with him still filling me full, he moaned and shifted, moving inside me, thrusting deeply.

I gasped, pushing against him, my clit rubbing against the base of his cock. “Don’t stop. Just keep going forever.”

“Sugar and fluff have their place, but Cicely, for you, I would give you black raspberries and honey, and rich, warm roast beef cooked rare and juicy. I would serve you beet soup, and rich cream puddings…” He nuzzled my neck. “And dress you in a silken gown, to wear under the moon, with a circlet of silver for your hair.”

I began to cry, so aware of him, so aware of us. “Will we ever get out of this mess? Will we ever make it out of the dark and the snow?”

Grieve paused, gently kissing away my tears. “I believe we will. I have to believe it. But Cicely, wherever we are, as long as we’re together, we live in the heart of Summer, where I am the prince and you are my princess.”

“I don’t need to be a princess. I just want to be your wife.” I rested my head on his shoulder, and he slowly began to move inside me again. We moved leisurely, without hurry, our breaths rising and falling with the ripples in the bath. Without warning, our passion flared and Grieve stared deep into my eyes as I came, crying out as my world expanded. Then, a moment later, Grieve moaned, his jaw clenched as he rode the wave. After he finished, he rested his head on my breast, and we stayed locked together, in our own private world, until the water cooled.