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Unable to speak past the lump in my throat, tears stream freely down my face as overwhelming joy crashes through me. “Lyrion…”

He leans closer and cups my face with both hands. “The spell might have pushed us together, but what I feel stopped being about magic a long time ago. I want to explore what we have. Will you allow me to court you, Isobel?”

My heart soars even as my mind whispers caution. Yet, looking into his eyes, I know there’s only one possible answer. “Yes,” I breathe. “I will.”

He captures my mouth in a claiming kiss, stealing the breath from my lungs. His lips move against mine, gentle and possessive, an intoxicating blend of hunger and reverence that sends sparks dancing across my skin.

Curling my fingers in his tunic, I melt against his powerful frame as the warmth of his body envelops me, his strong arms tightening around my waist and pulling me impossibly closer.

His fingers thread through my hair, gripping the silken strands as he deepens our kiss, his mouth moving slowly, thoroughly, as if he’s savoring every breath we share.

My senses spin, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of this moment as everything around me fades away until it contains only Lyrion—his warmth, his taste, the passionate way he claims my lips.

Despite the joy singing through my veins, a remaining tendril of doubt curls in my chest, worried that perhaps this is merelythe potion’s lingering effects. That once the magic dissipates, he’ll realize his mistake and let me go.

Breathless, I pull back just enough to look up at him. “Are you sure—absolutely sure—that it’s not the potion still?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything.” He cups my chin, directing my gaze to his. “No magic could make me feel like this.”

Relief crashes over me as happiness fills my chest.

“Well, it’s about time,” Rhystan’s voice pierces the darkness, startling us both.

We pull apart, surprised to find Hilda, Rhystan, and even Errol, on the garden path.

“I was beginning to worry the two of you would never admit your feelings for one another,” Rhystan adds.

Hilda beams, clasping her hands over her heart. “We’re so happy for you both.”

Errol tips his chin up proudly, as if this was all his doing.

Heat floods my cheeks but I laugh, leaning into Lyrion’s side as his arm slips protectively around my waist. “How long have you been standing there?” he asks, voice gruff, but I note the slight quirk of his mouth.

“Long enough.” Rhystan grins.

Errol purrs happily as he head bumps Rhystan. He then winds himself around Lyrion’s legs until he picks him up and scratches under his chin.

“Yes, yes.” Lyrion gives him an indulgent look. “You were right from the start.”

“Right about what?” I ask.

“He says he knew how I felt about you from the very beginning. It was only a matter of time before I realized it.”

Errol tips up his chin in a smug look as Lyrion strokes his fur.

“This calls for a celebration,” Hilda announces. “Let’s all go back inside and we can have some tea and honey cake.”

With Lyrion’s hand in mine, we walk back inside the manor. The future is bright and shining before us, and stars help me, I’m so happy I can’t stop smiling.

CHAPTER 42

ISOBEL

After our celebration in the kitchen, it’s late. Stepping out of the tub, I dry off and slip into my blue nightshift. Work looms tomorrow, and I’m sure I’ll be tired, but I can’t sleep.

Today was perfect—so perfect that I’m worried I’ll close my eyes and wake up to find it was all just a dream.

I’m about to lie down in bed when a thought occurs to me: I don’t have to hide my feelings any longer. Lyrion feels as strongly for me as I do for him.