My heart squeezes in my chest, hearing his admission.

I set the jar down on Rita’s desk and then lunge at Bran, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely.

He sinks into the kiss easily with a welcoming ferocity, his hands griping the backs of my thighs, hoisting me up into his arms.

When we break the kiss, I tell him, “You’ve taught me how to be calculated.”

He kisses me again, slipping me his tongue.

I pull back. “And you’ve taught me how to be brave.”

He grumbles. “Should have never done that.”

“And most importantly, you’ve taught me how to be fierce.”

He spins me around and presses me against the doorframe, planting another kiss on my mouth. And all of his love and worry and fear for us makes me fizzy with happiness, but it also makes me bold.

“I want to take my rightful place in the court,” I confess.

Our mouths linger, just an inch apart. My hair spills forward as I press my forehead against his.

“Whatever will come of me, I need to do it, Bran.”

He closes his eyes, stealing the amber glow for a split second. His shoulders rise with a deep breath and then he expels it, ruffling my hair.

When he opens his eyes again, he nods against me. “You must do what you must do. No one knows better than me that regret will haunt you like a ghost.”

I don’t need him to tell me he’s referring to his little sister and I don’t want to press him for more of it.

“Thank you.” I kiss him with a quick peck and then he lets me down to retrieve the flower.

Is it reckless to put so much faith in a flower trapped in a jar?

Maybe. But this is about more than defeating the Summer Queen.

It’s as much about her as it is about saving my brother.

And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get him on my side.

Episode Eighty-Eight

COME, DOGGIE

BRAN

The flower is innocuous on its own. Faintly tropical with its long, curling petals and vibrant red color. But when Mouse opens the jar and plucks the flower from inside, the petals unfurl for her and the stamen glows brighter.

If there was any question of its magical nature before now, it’s quashed.

Mouse looks up at me and smiles, the glow of the flower glancing off her cheeks.

Watching her become the fae princess she’s always been is fucking sexy as hell. Even if I object to her chasing power and waging war. Even if I dislike her endangering herself. Perhaps there was always some deep, dark part of me that wanted a partner who could fuck shit up beside me.

Because watching that powerful, magical flower react to Mouse like she’s the sun, has me slightly aroused.

“So now what?” Mouse asks Baspin. Long curling vines grow from the cut stem. Several of them curl around her index finger, but gently, I notice. As if they don’t want to hurt her.

Behind me, the Alpha and his third-in-command are whispering to one another. I can hear every word—she’s still worried about the risk, and the Alpha is being far too nice about being questioned.