Page 108 of Bring Me Your Midnight

“You do?” I can hear the hope in her voice, and it makes my throat ache, the way she only wants me to be happy, even after everything I put her through.

“Yeah, I do. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I’m proud of the role I get to play. Landon will be a good husband.”

“He will be,” she agrees, and I look at her closely. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it. I want this union to happen as much as your mother and everyone else, but I wouldn’t let you do this if I didn’t think you’d find happiness in it.”

“Thank you,” I say. Ivy goes back to applying my makeup, running the brush over my cheeks again. “And thank you for telling me everything, about the memory eraser and Wolfe. It means a lot to me, more than you will ever know.”

I feel the brush slow against my skin. “You’re welcome,” she says hesitantly. “Are you feeling okay? With all that?”

“I think so. I’m glad I know what happened, but I still don’t remember any of it. It all feels like something that happened to someone else, like a character in a book. I don’t recognize it as my own lived experience.”

Ivy nods, but her eyebrows pinch together, and she purses her lips. “Hey,” I say, putting my hand on top of hers, moving the brush away from my skin and making her meet my eyes. “It was my decision. I’m the one who took it. I’m the one who made the choices that led up to it. This isn’t on you.”

She swallows and takes a heavy breath, then gets back to work. “I know. It’s just that one day, it might be nice to remember those nights that you fully chose for yourself.”

“Maybe,” I say, looking up as she applies something under my eyes. “But why make it harder on myself?”

“Is it hard?” Her voice is casual, but it’s a loaded question.

“That’s not what I meant,” I say quickly.

“It’s okay if it is.”

“It’s not.”

“Okay,” she says, moving to my other side.

She finishes my makeup in silence, then lifts a gold hand mirror from the table and holds it up in front of me.

“You look beautiful,” she says, emotion edging its way into her voice.

“Oh, Ivy, it’s perfect.” She kept my makeup light enough that I still look like myself, but she has rimmed my eyes in black and added deep gray shadow to my lids. I look dramatic and natural and soft and fierce, just like the sea.

“Thank you,” I say.

She helps me into my dress, the gray silk sliding over my skin and trailing on the floor behind me. My hair is down in soft waves, and she gently tucks a comb into place, adorned with pearls and crystals that catch the light.

“We are so lucky to have you,” Ivy says, giving me a soft hug, careful not to smudge my makeup.

“Don’t you dare make me cry. I have a very long day to get through, and if I start now, who knows when I’ll stop.”

“Fair,” she says.

Just then, the door swings open, and my mother rushes in. “Oh, Tana,” she says, coming to a halt when she sees me. Her eyesbegin to glisten, and she takes a deep breath before moving closer to me. “You look radiant.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Ready?”

I look to Ivy, and she gives me an encouraging smile. “I’m right behind you,” she says.

I nod and squeeze her hand. Then I turn to my mother.

“I’m ready.”

thirty-nine

The lawn is packed with bodies. Bright conversation and easy laughter fill the space as I wait to make my entrance. Covenant Balls are our most sacred events, more important than almost anything else. Even though a witch hasn’t denounced our coven in years, we still celebrate each and every witch who declares themself for us because it’s a win for our way of life. It signifies that the new order will continue, that this life is worth protecting. And at the end of the day, it’s still a choice.

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